Su Nan slowly raised his left hand. With a mental strength of 9.8, his baseline psychic power reached 1.6—stronger than that of a Lycanthrope Emissary. However, the true strength of the Sacrificial Hand lay in its ability to trade life force for amplified psychic power.
This trade-off wasn't one-to-one. Instead, the greater the injuries, the more psychic power was multiplied. The Brain Assistant even speculated that irreversible injuries might yield extraordinary psychic strength.
In essence, this Sacrificial Hand potion was likely an unconventional tool designed for a sorcerer organization's suicide operatives. Yet, after extensive calculations and refinement, the formula had been significantly optimized by the Brain Assistant.
Su Nan extended his hand toward the thick wooden door of the storage room. From four meters away, a faint handprint appeared on its surface before the heavy door slowly creaked open.
The moment the door fully swung wide, a shadow darted out. A figure wielding a dagger moved swiftly, aiming for the spot behind the door.
To his surprise, there was no one behind it. His blade plunged into the crevice of a cobblestone floor.
"Impossible!" The armored, bearded man, clad in chainmail and leather boots, exclaimed in shock. "No one's here?"
His movements were quick and decisive. Using his hand to gauge the force behind the door, he had calculated his opponent's height and aimed a fatal strike at their throat.
But his calculations had missed one crucial detail—there was no target.
Realizing his predicament, the knight squire turned to flee toward a nearby window. His task was reconnaissance, not a life-or-death battle.
Yet, before he could leap, he felt an invisible force grip his throat. The pressure was overwhelming, rendering his struggles futile. The knight squire was lifted off the ground and dragged back into the storage room, helplessly flailing.
"Brain Assistant, analyze him and record this battle," Su Nan ordered mentally. Combat records were invaluable for refining potion formulas.
As he stepped into the room, the door slammed shut behind him with a resounding thud, guided by psychic energy. Su Nan felt the resonance of his Lycanthrope network—the others had sensed his engagement and were rapidly approaching.
The Brain Assistant quickly provided an analysis of the intruder:
[Subject Analysis: Knight Squire]
Strength: 1.4
Speed: 1.8
Constitution: 1.4
Notes: While agility is the subject's strongest attribute, their explosive force briefly exceeded 2 during combat. However, fatigue set in quickly, allowing Su Nan's consistent psychic strength of 1.6 to overwhelm them.
The knight squire gripped his dagger tightly, eyeing Su Nan warily. "I recognize you—you're the young baron of this land."
"Damn it! I thought this would be a simple task," he growled. "I was just supposed to infiltrate this castle and gather some information. But you… you're dabbling in sorcery!"
"Ridiculous. You noble types and your ancient texts—have you actually uncovered something real?"
As he spoke, he lunged with his dagger, aiming for Su Nan's chest. However, Su Nan's psychic energy seized the man's leg mid-stride, causing him to stumble and crash to the ground. The dagger flew from his grasp, landing several feet away.
Su Nan's psychic grip snatched the blade out of midair. The family crest engraved on the hilt was unmistakable—it belonged to the Garth Pasha household.
Noble heraldry was a complex but essential area of study, with every emblem reflecting its lineage's history and glory. As the baron of Peter's domain, Su Nan instantly recognized the emblem of one of his rebellious knights.
With a cold determination, Su Nan unleashed a barrage of psychic punches. Invisible blows battered the knight squire's face, leaving him reeling. Each time the man attempted to retaliate, Su Nan's psychic energy would trip or restrain him, sending him crashing back down.
After five minutes of relentless assault, the knight squire was beaten, his face bruised and swollen. Panting heavily, he slumped to the ground, temporarily incapacitated.
Su Nan's psychic reserves had only been half-depleted. It was evident that the Sacrificial Hand, even in its base state, could easily overpower an average knight squire.
If combined with enhanced Lycanthrope abilities, Su Nan believed even the strongest knights would struggle against him.
For mortals, sorcery was simply too unpredictable and overwhelming to counter effectively.
"Why did Garth Pasha send you to my castle? And whom do you serve?" Su Nan demanded coldly.
The knight squire's allegiance was clear—he was no follower of the Lawful God or the Storm God.
After a moment's hesitation, the man replied, "I… I'm a follower of the Great Rat."
"The mayor of Mapleleaf Town sought Sir Garth Pasha's military protection. Sir Garth agreed. The mayor suspects you're behind the recent merchant attacks. Though Sir Garth was skeptical, he sent me to investigate due to the mayor's insistence."
"But damn it… I didn't expect you to be a sorcerer…"
"Wait, was it really you attacking the caravans?" The knight's eyes widened with fear.
For decades, the church had cultivated an image of sorcerers as ultimate villains, responsible for all misfortunes—famines, plagues, and even bizarre anomalies.
The revelation of Su Nan's sorcery struck terror into the knight.
Su Nan's expression darkened. Garth Pasha's involvement complicated matters. Any action against Mapleleaf Town would now require preparations to face at least one seasoned knight.
Official knights, particularly Storm Knights, were known for uniformly impressive attributes, with all stats at 3.
Currently, Su Nan's strongest Lycanthropes capped at 2, making a direct confrontation a daunting prospect.
While his creations were remarkably resilient, their vulnerabilities were not insurmountable. Moreover, the church-trained knights undoubtedly possessed the means to exploit these weaknesses.
As Su Nan pondered his strategy, he noticed a glint of metal beneath the knight's tunic.
The squire had covertly drawn a miniature crossbow, aiming it at Su Nan.
With a casual flick of his left hand, Su Nan redirected the bolt mid-flight.
It struck the squire's throat.
The man's eyes widened in horror as the bolt pierced his neck. His body slumped lifelessly to the ground, his head drooping at an unnatural angle.
Death had come swiftly and bizarrely—testament to the Sacrificial Hand's power.
"Warwick, take care of the body," Su Nan called out to his steward outside the door.
Warwick, slightly alarmed, asked, "Young master, are you hurt? I can smell blood."
Su Nan smiled faintly. "That would be his, not mine."
Still, the encounter highlighted the need to enhance his physical resilience. The proximity of the knight's attack had been unsettling.
"How's progress on the Alpha Lycanthrope Potion?" Su Nan asked mentally.
[Alpha Lycanthrope Potion: 99% complete. Nearly ready.]
With Warwick disposing of the body and salvaging the chainmail as spoils, Su Nan turned his attention back to his research.
Over the next week, he successfully brewed additional Emissary Potions, creating ten new Lycanthropes.
His mental and psychic strength had both reached 9.9, though progress toward the milestone of 10 had slowed to a crawl.
Nevertheless, each dose of Enhanced Mental Strength Potion (+1) edged him closer to a breakthrough.
For now, Su Nan ordered his Lycanthropes to cease attacking merchant caravans. With Garth Pasha's involvement, further raids posed significant risks.
Instead, Su Nan concentrated on perfecting the Alpha Lycanthrope Potion and stockpiling Sleep Bug Potions, preparing for future confrontations.
Half a month passed quietly until an invitation arrived from Mapleleaf Town.
The town's trade market had suffered devastating attacks. The mayor was now on trial, accused of gross mismanagement. The town's guild leaders had invited Su Nan and his knights to serve as jurors.
Su Nan declined outright.
Firstly, he had no time for political theatrics, with his research and training taking precedence.
Secondly, the invitation reeked of a trap.
"Warwick, what exactly happened in the market?" Su Nan asked.
Warwick replied, "It seems a rogue cult staged a massacre, indiscriminately killing merchants. The mayor's position is increasingly tenuous. Strangely, the mastermind claimed he didn't orchestrate
the attack—it was the work of 'another self' within him."
"Though I suspect that's just an excuse," Warwick added with a wry smile.