Imprisoned for a Trillion Years, I Was Worshipped by All Gods!

Daniel offered a sly, knowing smile, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a pale golden rune stone, handing it over to Alan.

Alan took it and examined it carefully. After a moment, he realized with shock that this was a high-grade rune stone containing a stored value of over a hundred million gold coins!

His hand nearly slipped. It took him a few seconds to steady himself before he managed to ask, "You managed to sell off those items already?"

Daniel didn't answer directly. Instead, he countered with a question of his own: "What do you think—was it better to sell those Legendary artifacts, or not?"

Alan gave it some thought before replying, "Selling them is definitely better. Keeping them here is pointless. Carrying around valuable treasures isn't always a sign of good fortune—it often attracts disaster."

Daniel laughed again. "Now you're just being overly cautious. There's no fault in the treasures themselves. It's the greed in people's hearts that leads to sin. It is jealousy that drives people to commit wrongs against those who possess such items. The holy oracles passed down by the divine teach us to cherish our loved ones, our friends, and to never…"

Alan raised a hand, cutting him off. "Archbishop, surely you didn't come all this way just to preach doctrine to me? Let's get to the point—please. In my current state, I really can't engage in lengthy philosophical debates."

He sighed and rubbed his temples again.

Seeing Alan's impatient expression, Daniel could only shake his head and relent. "Very well. This money wasn't simply from selling the artifacts. I personally submitted a request to Patriarch Moses and received special approval for this fund. Its sole purpose is to help you rapidly increase your power."

"At the same time, consider this a personal gift from me—a token of gratitude for all you've done for the Church."

Alan spread his hands and said dryly, "You give me too much credit, sir. Everything I did was for my own survival. I never went out of my way to help the Church."

"You say that," Daniel replied, "but that's not how we see it."

He continued earnestly, "Because of our neutral position, the Church has long remained uninvolved in worldly conflicts. That's both a blessing and a curse. As you just said yourself—what seems like good fortune can sometimes bring calamity."

"After failing to win our allegiance, many factions have become increasingly wary of us. They're afraid that if their enemies manage to sway the Church with better offers, the balance of war might tip drastically."

"But then you appeared. You became the lightning rod. All attention shifted onto you, easing the pressure on the Church. You took on the scrutiny that would otherwise have fallen on us. That contribution—whether you see it or not—is immense. That's why I came here personally to thank you."

Outwardly, Alan smiled and nodded, but inwardly, he was already turning over Daniel's words.

It was a clever way to phrase it.

He made it sound like Alan was a savior to the Church—a benevolent hero who, through his existence, provided them with a strategic reprieve.

But the truth was more practical: the Church had used Alan's rising fame and growing influence as bait, diverting attention away from themselves to buy time and space to breathe.

Alan didn't like being used—but he also knew better than to complain. After all, the Church had gone out of its way to help him—offering manpower, wealth, and now even high-level funding to support the rebuilding of Sirius Academy.

If he turned around and accused them of manipulation, it would make him seem petty and ungrateful—unfit for the mantle of Headmaster.

This was one of the things Alan had come to understand since taking on the leadership of Sirius.

He wasn't just responsible for himself anymore—or for his sister. Now, he had a school. He had people to protect. He had a future to uphold.

He couldn't afford to act recklessly or emotionally. He had to weigh the big picture. This, he realized, was what people meant when they spoke of "growing up."

After a few more minutes of polite small talk, Alan finally redirected the conversation back to the rune stone.

"Mr. Daniel, I appreciate the gesture, truly. But don't you think giving someone money outright is a bit… tacky? I know Sirius Academy is still under reconstruction and could use funds, but personally, I'd prefer it if you could send us some skilled, hardworking believers—craftsmen who are willing to get their hands dirty. The royal architects are just too extravagant."

As he spoke, he pointed behind him at the enormous wolf-shaped sculpture on the wall, his expression somewhere between amused and helpless.

Daniel, however, shook his head. "Alan, I think you misunderstand. This money isn't meant for the Academy."

"Oh?" Alan blinked. "Then what's it for?"

Daniel pointed directly at him.

"For me?" Alan was startled. "You're saying… this money is for my personal use?"

"Exactly."

With a downward motion of his hand, Daniel released a wave of mana, forming a sound-isolating barrier around them.

Alan's expression immediately turned serious.

Now we're getting to the real reason for this visit, he thought. Everything before had just been pretense—distraction for any eyes or ears that might be lurking.

Currently, Sirius Academy only had four core members. Security was naturally weak. In the woods surrounding the Academy, Alan had already spotted numerous spies from various factions.

It was frustrating—he couldn't kill them all, nor could he find them all. He had no choice but to tolerate them for now. Once the Academy had enough staff, then he'd handle them properly.

"Alan," Daniel began again, his tone far more solemn than before.

"You're currently at Tier-Gold. And maybe you haven't realized this yet, but once you reach Tier-Platinum, the cost of further advancement will skyrocket—exponentially."

"It's not just the mana stones you'll need to absorb during training, or the enormous expense of acquiring new skills. No, the biggest cost will come from daily upkeep."

"Cosmetic powders that preserve youthful vitality, potions that ensure mana flow remains unimpeded—you're still young, so you may not appreciate how rare and vital these things are. But trust me—once you age even slightly, you'll understand. These items? Each one is nearly priceless. Even if you have the money, you might not be able to buy them."

Alan had braced himself for some shocking military revelation—but instead, Daniel had launched into a lecture on skincare and mana health.

He chuckled bitterly.

Daniel wasn't entirely wrong—but in Alan's case, it didn't apply. Thanks to his unique identity as a Hellwarden, his lifespan was nearly limitless. He didn't have to worry about things like aging or mana flow deterioration.

Still… there was something Daniel was absolutely right about.

He did need money. Desperately.

As a special-type mage, Alan's growth was tied to absorbing powerful staves—more specifically, the Origin Mana stored within them.

But those staves didn't grow on trees. Most had to be acquired with massive sums of gold.

And as Alan's strength continued to rise, so too did the quality—and cost—of the staves he required.

A Tier-Gold staff might cost a million gold coins.

At Tier-Platinum, that number could jump to ten million.

And at Diamond-tier? Even a plain-looking staff could fetch over a hundred million.

Realizing this, Alan suddenly didn't think the rune stone in his hand—worth just over a hundred million—seemed all that extravagant anymore.