The Price of a Miracle

Right in the heart of the capital's main thoroughfare, in the center of the bustling Great Plaza, a dark red flag fluttered high. The emblem rippling in the wind was more than enough to capture everyone's attention at once. It was the flag of the Ifrit Church.

Beneath that flag sat an exquisitely designed sales booth. It was a clean, tranquil structure—not overly flashy, yet possessing a strange, eye-catching sophistication.

What truly caught the eye, however, were the glass bottles lined up on the table. Inside these vessels of various sizes and hues lay a transparent liquid: lower-grade, mid-grade, and upper-grade Holy Water. Catching the sunlight, the liquids slowly and subtly reflected the rays, shimmering as if they were alive.

At first, no one approached. Passersby didn't even stop, merely glancing over their shoulders as they walked past.

"Is it real?"

"Isn't it just a rumor?"

"What if it's a trick...?"

The concept of being the "first" always carried a heavy pressure. Under that ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠weight, no one dared to step forward, choosing instead to watch from a safe distance. Then, breaking the heavy silence, someone slowly stepped forward.

It was a middle-aged mercenary wearing a worn coat. One look was enough to tell he had survived countless battlefields. His hands were thick with calluses, and his eyes were deep, looking as though they wouldn't waver at any ordinary threat.

"Um... this. Does it really work, Priest?"

At his cautious question, Anna of the Church stepped forward with a radiant smile. "Yes. Would you like to see for yourself? The first trial is entirely free."

Anna held up a transparent bottle. There was no hesitation in her movements. It was a display of pure confidence and practiced grace—less like a simple transaction and more like a sacred ritual.

She had already anticipated this much, and she had a countermeasure ready. The answer lay in the teachings of the Prophet: 'Showing it once is better than explaining it a hundred times.' A visible miracle was stronger than any words, and above all, it would be remembered the longest. And if possible, it was best to make it as flashy as possible.

To save time, Anna brought out the upper-grade Holy Water. It possessed the fastest healing speed and, above all, produced the most dramatic visual effect.

The mercenary accepted the bottle without hesitation. He didn't dally; instead, he quietly sliced the back of his hand. A small but clean cut appeared, and scarlet drops of blood slowly welled up. The crowd's eyes instantly locked onto his hand.

With his lips tightly sealed, he tilted the bottle. At first, nothing happened when the liquid touched his skin. A brief silence fell as the liquid made contact. Lower-grade Holy Water took quite some time to work, and while mid-grade reduced that delay, it still required a waiting period.

But then, a crimson light bloomed over his skin. A faint vibration rippled outward like a heartbeat. The light wrapped around the wound as if it possessed a life of its own. In less than ten seconds, not a single trace of the cut remained. His skin had completely restored itself, without even a speck of blood left behind.

"..."

The crowd gasped. The plaza fell dead ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠silent. No one could utter a word. There was no explanation, no extra gimmicks. Only one thing—the raw sensation of a 'miracle'—was the shared emotion dominating the space.

The mercenary pulled out his coin pouch with trembling hands. Reality had cut through his awe. "...How much is this! I'll buy it right ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠now!"

As if she had been waiting for this exact moment, Anna replied with a bright, sweet smile. "Yes, valued customer! For the upper-grade Holy Water, let's see... it is normally 40 gold. However, a special promotional discount is currently active, so you can purchase it for the highly reasonable price of just 39 gold and 39 silver!"

The mercenary, who had been confidently opening his pouch, froze. "...What? 40 gold?" The solemn, serious persona he had been maintaining instantly crumbled.

As if she had expected this reaction too, Anna maintained her flawless smile and continued. "For your information, while it doesn't have the same dramatic effect, our lower-grade Holy Water—which is more than sufficient for everyday healing—is normally 40 silver! Likewise, this is also on a special discount right now, so it is only 39 silver and 98 copper coins!"

Those words were the starting pistol. The realistic metric of price recalibrated the crowd's judgment. People began nodding and stepping forward.

"Give me one too!"

"Can I get two lower-grade bottles? My mother is sick..."

"Get in line, get in line! Keep order, please!"

Within just a few minutes, the plaza erupted into a chaotic uproar. The people who had been whispering and hesitating earlier were now eagerly reaching out their hands, and the sales booth was quickly surrounded by a dense crowd.

Even in that chaotic situation, the church priests and the assistants from the revolutionary army moved in perfect order. It was as if they had practiced these movements dozens of times. There was no confusion, and no instructions were needed. Everyone understood their role perfectly, and the crowd naturally formed an orderly line.

That day, the miracle named 'Holy Water' that first appeared in the heart of Elium began to spread in all directions through street rumors in just a few hours. At this time, no one knew how massive of a spark this quiet beginning would become.

Except for one person, that is.

The Holy Water continued to sell out day after day. It wasn't cheap, either. In fact, it was several times more expensive than the medicines commonly found on the market. Yet, people opened their wallets without hesitation, their faces filled with a desperate determination to buy it no matter what.

Honestly, I could understand their feelings. This world was called medieval, but in reality, it was pure barbarism. If you needed treatment, you had to go to an apothecary or a mage. The problem was that most of their medicines were slow-acting or had side effects. Medicines derived from a combat-oriented system were far from precise recovery.

But here was immediate, visible recovery. And without pain, without side effects. People who saw wounds vanish like a miracle thought: 'I don't know when or how I'll get hurt, so I should keep at least one on hand.'

That simple thought set off a wildfire. Before long, Holy Water went beyond a household medicine and became survival insurance—a luxury that brought peace of mind just by owning it, even if it wasn't immediately necessary. That psychological comfort drove the demand, and people lined up to buy it.

That psychological security stimulated the desire to purchase even more. Thus, Holy Water sold faster with each passing ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠day, and rumors naturally spread along with it. Inquiries flooded the church daily. What started as dozens of contacts a day exploded into hundreds, then thousands. The priests were utterly exhausted from dealing with them all day.

"Prophet! Today, the inquiries have exceeded three digits again. Foreign delegations are also pushing us, wanting to officially verify the authenticity of the Holy Water!"

The demands and attention of the people grew fiercer by the day. However, I did not open my mouth to confirm or deny anything. 'I don't know.''I won't say.' These two phrases often stimulate human emotions more than any other words. Curiosity. Humans are most confused, and at the same time, most driven mad, when they cannot know.

Limited quantities. Difficult distribution channels. A structure that made it harder and harder to obtain. All of this inflated the value of the Holy Water even further. Eventually, the giants who rarely took action themselves—the massive merchant groups of this world—began to move one by one.

The Golden Cog Merchant Group, the Blue Creek Trade Association, the Laurel Wreath Gold Exchange, and the West Wind Trade Guild. These were not mere local merchants. They were colossal merchant groups backed by entire kingdoms, dominating trade across the continent. And right now, every single one of them was hovering around my mansion.

The garden in front of the entrance was packed with luxury carriages, each fluttering a golden flag engraved with their respective crests. High-ranking officials in delegation attire stood in long lines, sweating profusely as they waited for permission to enter. I looked out the window and thought: It's about time.

In the first place, my purpose in creating Holy Water wasn't for domestic consumption. I didn't make it to profit off Elium's citizens. Right now, it was selling because of the "let's buy it for now" atmosphere, but this fever wouldn't last forever. Healing is only needed when there's an emergency. Eventually, demand would drop. Therefore, I needed to pave a new path. The answer lay with the people outside my mansion.

Of course, even if I made a deal this time, I would only release lower-grade potions. Holy Water was a bait. A magnet to draw them here, a signboard to attract spectators. Anyone who drank the lower-grade potion would inevitably seek out stronger effects—advanced potions that healed faster, stronger, and more swiftly. That desire would create another demand.

And to get that? They have to come to Elium. They have to contact the church. They have to spend money. Every single copper they spend on eating, sleeping, and living in this land benefits me. Thus, the lower-grade potion is a temptation. And for that, the grand merchants are the most suitable means of transport. They are perfect for it.

I had thought about raising domestic merchant groups, but honestly, it was too much of a hassle. Raising a merchant group? I'd have to stuff bribes down the nobles' throats and get royal permission. I'd have to bypass local territorialism to forge new paths, and wait years for a small merchant group to establish itself. Why on earth would I do such a foolish thing?

The ones lined up right in front of me now. The giant merchant groups that already have the infrastructure. Utilizing them is much faster and more efficient. If I leash them tightly and distribute the profits appropriately, they will submit on their own. Holy Water is an irreplaceable item that cannot be made without me. As long as I hold this, they can never escape my grasp.

"Prophet, two hundred glass bottles, sorted by grade, are all prepared." An Apprentice Priest approached and reported. I nodded and walked toward the glass bottles. As my fingertips lightly touched the glass, my divine power seeped into them. In an instant, the red liquid inside the bottles began to glow with a subtle light.

Using only Heal felt a bit cheap. It was a mysterious potion made by mixing a few cheap herbs, with a base material cost of about three copper coins. I tweaked the color a bit and adjusted the taste to be slightly sweet with a hint of bitterness.

My divine power was recovering faster than I could use it even now. If I wanted to, I could make thousands of bottles a day. But I wouldn't do that. Value comes from scarcity. The real 'Special-grade Heal,' the skill-based item that can only be used three times a day, was stored separately.

I also paid meticulous attention to the appearance of the glass bottles. The bottles, commissioned to high-end glass artisans, were all on the level of artworks, and the exclusive packaging boxes exuded luxury from their appearance alone. An item that looked expensive at a single glance. And this wasn't an item that could be bought simply with 'money.' Only those who contributed to the Ifrit Church or donated above a certain amount would obtain the 'qualification to purchase.' This was a device to make the value of the Holy Water more than just money.

In the beginning, I planned to give only a small taste to each merchant group. "Tell them to gather in the drawing room." The servant hurried out, and a moment later, a report came in that everyone had gathered. I slowly rose and headed to the drawing room.

Gathered there were the people who operated on the grand stage of this continent. The Franz Kingdom, the Zenith Kingdom, the Verora Kingdom, and the Karis Empire. They were not mere merchants. They were the financial lifelines that moved nations, the hands that shook economies. Even if Elium was the center of trade, having such prominent figures gather in one place was... an extremely rare event.

And the eyes of all these people were now focused on one person.