With the aid of Mike Bai's alcohol, many of the wounded soldiers successfully avoided infection, and more than half of them were able to keep their limbs, and even their lives. The healed soldiers, along with the monks and nuns who tended to them, all praised it as a blessing from the Lord, bestowed through the hands of the Adler family, shielding the Crusaders.
As the word spread, it didn't take long before the Archbishop of Bethlehem himself arrived at Mike Bai's estate.
A magnificent carriage, adorned with golden filigree and intricate patterns, slowly pulled up in front of Mike Bai's manor. Behind it followed monks, servants, and a few armed knights from the Church. The Archbishop, draped in a robe of gold-threaded white, wore an ornate mitre and held a scepter in one hand, with a large ruby ring adorning the other. A man of around fifty, his white hair gave him a distinguished air of authority.
With graceful steps, the Archbishop descended from the carriage, stepping delicately on the backs of his servants to reach the ground. Upon seeing Mike Bai, he smiled slightly and extended his right hand.
Mike Bai, fully aware of the Archbishop's expectation of a "kiss of the hand," found the idea of kissing the hand of this decrepit old man utterly unacceptable. Before the Archbishop's hand could fully extend, Mike Bai took a swift step forward and grasped it with both hands.
"Your Excellency, the Archbishop, your visit today is a great honor to the Adler family!" Mike Bai exclaimed, shaking the Archbishop's hand with exaggerated enthusiasm.
The Archbishop raised an eyebrow, mildly surprised by Mike Bai's unorthodox greeting. But then, realizing that Mike Bai was only a young baron from a rural area, and barely twelve years old, he quickly composed himself.
"Baron Mike Bai, may the Lord bless you," the Archbishop said, his voice measured.
Mike Bai responded with a look of faux reverence, as if being blessed by the Archbishop was the highest of honors. After some meaningless small talk, Mike Bai led the Archbishop and his entourage into the estate.
Outside, many of the Danish mercenaries, who had been recovering from their wounds, basked in the sun. These towering men from the north, having used alcohol to ward off infection, had recovered quickly and were now back to their full strength. They flexed their muscles and cracked lewd jokes under the sun.
When they saw the Archbishop's procession, the mercenaries didn't stop their activities. They continued to joke loudly in Danish, entirely indifferent to the presence of the Archbishop. Their attitude toward the Church was more for convenience than true faith, and they had little respect for the Archbishop.
Seeing this, Mike Bai feigned anger and marched toward them. He had intended to kick one of them in the rear, but given their towering height of over two meters, he settled for a kick to the leader's calf instead.
"Get out of the way! Don't block the Archbishop's sight," he ordered sternly.
Had it been anyone else, the mercenary leader would have challenged him to a fight, but facing Mike Bai—his young employer, who had provided them with food, medical care, and everything else—the leader simply nodded and waved his men off.
The mercenaries dispersed at his command.
"Apologies, Your Excellency. My humble men have little manners," Mike Bai said with an apologetic scratch to his head, though his innocent expression belied the fact that this entire scene had been carefully staged by him.
"They are all warriors who fight for the Lord. A little impoliteness cannot overshadow their contributions," the Archbishop replied with a smile, before turning to ask, "Have they also received the Lord's blessing?"
Mike Bai nodded fervently.
"Indeed! They have all been blessed by the Lord!" Mike Bai declared with intense enthusiasm.
Now that his point had been made, Mike Bai led the Archbishop to a storage room, making a show of drawing a cross in the air before pointing dramatically at the door.
"Inside lies the gift we discovered from the Lord's hand, Your Excellency," Mike Bai said with fervor.
As the door creaked open, a burst of white steam poured out, followed by the rich scent of wine. For a moment, everyone seemed to be lulled into a slight stupor by the fragrance.
As the mist cleared, a massive distillation apparatus was revealed. The iron pot used for cooling was marked with a red cross by Mike Bai.
Approaching the contraption with pride, Mike Bai addressed the Archbishop, his voice full of reverence.
"Your Excellency, please take a look. This is the Blessed Wine—consecrated by the Church as the blood of the Holy Son."
One of the servants, who had bought wine at great expense from the monastery, poured it into the ceramic pot for distillation. Mike Bai, meanwhile, personally took a jug of water and began slowly pouring it into the iron pot used for condensation.
"This is the holy water, freshly blessed by the Archbishop this very morning," he continued.
As the distillation process began, the steam thickened and the strange fragrance grew stronger. The clear, colorless liquid began to drip from the wooden tube into small ceramic vials.
"This is the Lord's blessing!" Mike Bai exclaimed, raising a vial filled with the liquid like a cult leader, his voice dripping with fervor. "When the wine, symbolizing the blood of the Holy Son, is purified by the flames and merges with the holy water in the sacred pot, it is transcended!"
"This is the legendary holy water!" One of the men, placed by Mike Bai in the crowd, gasped in awe, then dropped to one knee to pray.
Several other confused servants followed suit, kneeling and praying in gratitude for the Lord's blessing.
The Archbishop and his knights were astounded. Experienced men, they weren't easily deceived, but watching Mike Bai use the simplest tools and materials—all blessed by the Church—successfully distill a liquid with an exotic fragrance from wine, which was said to represent the Holy Son's blood, left them in stunned wonder.
"This legendary holy water cannot be exposed to the air for long, or it will return to the embrace of the Holy Son," Mike Bai explained dramatically. "It symbolizes His mercy toward mankind, and not only can it purify evil (disinfect), but when applied to the skin, it can ease the suffering of those with fever (due to its volatility)."
"It also represents the Lord's warning—any unclean soul bathed in this holy water will find peace from their suffering." Mike Bai continued, his voice rising in intensity.
Mike Bai felt as if he were delivering a masterful performance, embodying the fanaticism and delusional fervor of a cult leader, and he couldn't help but think he was on the verge of winning an award for "Best Leading Male."
The Archbishop, seeing the performance and reflecting on the reports he had heard and the extraordinary circumstances, was now fully convinced of the sanctity of the "holy water."
"This is indeed the Lord's blessing!" the Archbishop exclaimed, trembling as he took the vial of enhanced holy water from Mike Bai, his voice filled with awe. "This is the essence of the Holy Son's blood! This is His blessing upon the world!"
With a reverent look, the Archbishop held the vial aloft, and without hesitation, drank the liquid in one swift gulp.
Mike Bai was momentarily stunned, unable to contain his surprise. The old man dares to drink alcohol!
Almost immediately, the Archbishop's face turned crimson, his trembling body shook violently, and after a few moments of struggling, he collapsed into the arms of his attendants, his eyes glazed over as if he had glimpsed Heaven. A smile spread across his face as he muttered incoherent prayers.
Clearly, the Archbishop was in no condition to remain. His attendants hurriedly helped him back to the carriage, and just before it closed, the Archbishop seemed to regain a brief moment of lucidity. With a weak, wavering voice, he pointed at Mike Bai and said:
"Mike Bai... very well…"
As the carriage slowly pulled away, Mike Bai stood there, staring after it. He couldn't help but wonder if he had overdone it—had he truly caused the old man to collapse?