Chapter 77: The Power of Faith?

After all, the toxins from the cassava pearls inside milk tea no longer had any effect on a fourth-rank magician.

Merlin felt that he was simply too magnificent, too selfless. Everything he had done—every clever scheme, every twist of words—was, in his heart, “for the sake of his classmates.” With the miraculous “meridian cleansing” effect he claimed his drinks carried, surely the students would now train even harder, pouring their sweat and tears into cultivation while also buying more milk tea.

I want this Arcane Academy to be filled with dragons in human form! he thought, his ambition swelling wildly.

Merlin quickly forced down the dangerous tide of pride rising in his chest. If he let himself daydream any further, he might start imagining himself as the Headmaster of the Academy. Of course, he didn’t even realize at this point that he had already reached the peak of deception—he had lied so thoroughly and so convincingly that even he himself believed that pearl milk tea truly possessed the power to cleanse one’s meridians.

As for whether Merlin drank milk tea himself? Of course he did! But he always ordered it without the pearls. That way, there was nothing to worry about.

In fact, his scheming mind was already racing with new product lines. He could create honey pearl milk tea, or perhaps blueberry milk tea using frozen blueberries from the northern tundra. Each new flavor wasn’t just a drink—it was a gold coin in his pocket.

Pearl milk tea could cater to the upper-class students, but he couldn’t neglect the ordinary ones either.

Let me think… if I rent out the lemon orchards from the Beast-Taming Academy, I can slice up a few lemons, add a pinch of industrial saccharin, and there it is—the most premium iced lemon water imaginable. As for the water? Filtered river water will do. The students here aren’t that picky anyway.

The plan unfolded in his mind with dazzling brilliance. Merlin was going to create the very first beverage empire in this world. The brand name came to him in a flash—Snowy Sweet Time. Its flagship menu: iced lemon water, pearl milk tea, and to top it off—ice cream.

…Though, when he thought of the complex process of making ice cream, he frowned. Troublesome… too troublesome. Why not just sell shaved ice instead? Drizzle some cream or condensed milk on top, sprinkle a few blueberries, and call it “Arctic Blueberry Shaved Ice.” Simple, cheap, and profitable.

Yes, this was absolutely the most lucrative plan. The Snowy Sweet Time Beverage Shop must succeed.

At the mere thought of the overflowing wealth awaiting him, Merlin’s lips curled into a crooked grin. A low, sinister chuckle escaped from his throat—“Jie jie jie…”

At that very moment, the students training in the open clearing behind the mountain slowly awakened from their meditative states. One by one, they turned toward Merlin. In their gazes swirled guilt, awe, and heartfelt gratitude.

They truly were remorseful. They had doubted Boss Merlin. Yet Boss Merlin had given them so much—rare and precious pearl milk tea, even granting them the blessing of meridian cleansing.

They had actually suspected him of using them as experimental guinea pigs. The shame was unbearable.

We are unforgivable!

A loud smack rang out. One student slapped himself across the face, tears brimming in his eyes. Bowing deeply in Merlin’s direction, he shouted:

“Boss Merlin, I was wrong! I never should have doubted you earlier. Please forgive my ignorance! You’ve done so much for us—you gave us milk tea of immeasurable value. We thought it was giving us diarrhea, but in truth, it was purging our bodies of toxins!”

Spurred by his example, the rest of the students broke down as well. One after another, they cried out, sobbing, begging Merlin for forgiveness.

“Uuuu… I’m worthless! How could I ever doubt the great Boss Merlin?”

“Me too! Boss Merlin treats us with such kindness, yet I dared suspect him!”

“That’s right! Without Boss Merlin, where would we ever find such light, carefree work—only twelve hours a day, with optional overtime!”

“Boss Merlin, I was wrong! From now on, I’ll believe in you without hesitation!”

“Boss Merlin, forgive us!”

“I may not know what those pearls are made of, but surely they must be some kind of high-grade magical ingredient!”

Hearing their desperate cries, Merlin’s heart was touched despite himself. He nodded gravely, wiping away two meager tears he forced from his eyes. Ah, my dear classmates. If only you knew the pearls were made from toxic cassava that even pigs refused to eat… my fate would be too tragic to imagine.

Best to leave the risky work to Scarlett or Stacie. If things were ever exposed, he could always push the blame onto Scarlett—backed as she was by a Demigod, the students wouldn’t dare stir trouble.

As for Stacie… she believed in him unconditionally. She never questioned, only carried out his instructions with total devotion. A subordinate like her was priceless, a treasure beyond compare.

Where else could one find such an obedient employee?

Merlin spread his arms magnanimously, his voice warm and forgiving:

“It’s alright. The fault is mine for not explaining clearly. I only wanted to give you a pleasant surprise for your hard work. I’ve already forgiven you.”

And with that, he embraced the prettiest girl—the one crying the hardest—gently patting her back. Lifting his head, he addressed all the gathered students:

“Pearl milk tea is wonderful, but do not overindulge. Once a day is enough for meridian cleansing. And remember, this cannot compare to true magical potions. After all, once you reach the fourth rank, the effects will weaken greatly.”

The students nodded seriously, their eyes shining. At this moment, Merlin was no longer just a man in their eyes—he was sacred, their guiding light, their faith itself.

Arcane Academy · Mage Tower · Garden

Two figures stood frozen in shock: the Demigod Weber and Pope Jones of the Holy Light. Both stared at the young man before them—Merlin—who was casually carrying trays of drinks.

Merlin noticed their strange expressions and tilted his head in confusion. Setting down a cup of milk tea, a glass of lemon water, and blueberry fruit tea, he asked, “What’s wrong? Do I have flowers blooming on my face? Why are you two staring at me like that?”

Weber was dumbfounded. Each time this boy appeared, he brought some bizarre novelty. And it wasn’t even the pearl milk tea that startled him—it was what he sensed emanating faintly from Merlin’s body.

Faith.

Genuine faith energy.

“Merlin,” Weber asked solemnly, “tell me honestly… are you the reincarnation of a god? Why do you carry faith power within you? Weak, yes—but unmistakable.”

“What?” Merlin’s eyes widened. “Faith power? Where? I don’t see anything! And isn’t it true that only Demigods can accumulate faith power?”

Faith was the foundation of divine might. Only beings who had reached the level of Demigod could withstand it.

On the continent of Aize, countless gods fought to gather faith, appointing mortal Apostles to serve as their vessels. Pope Jones himself was one such Apostle, chosen by the God of Light, tasked with spreading doctrine, building temples, and strengthening his deity through faith.

“You’re too weak to sense it yourself,” Jones muttered, frustration in his voice. “Only when you reach the rank of Seventh-Circle Archmage will you even begin to touch such power. But… how can a mere third-rank mage already harbor faith?”

Weber, circling around Merlin like a hawk, sipped his milk tea and nearly burst out laughing in disbelief. “Unbelievable! In all my years, this is the first time I’ve seen a third-rank magician hold faith power. Merlin, could it be? Are you the reincarnation of the God of War? No… that can’t be. The God of War never fell. Unless… unless you’re his son?”

“Me? The God of War’s son?” Merlin pointed at himself, dumbstruck. His thoughts raced to the smoky tavern where his father tended the grill, flipping skewers with expert ease.

Don’t tell me… is my kebab-grilling dad secretly one of the strongest gods in existence? Am I actually the son of the War God?!

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