Overlord: Start from the Goblin Lair

As a mortal, Perglan naturally didn't understand what the gods were thinking, but judging from the current results, they were good, and she was satisfied.

"Little girl, do you want to go back to the Land of Delusion to help?" Ernest's figure gradually became illusory, and the barrier that shielded other people around him gradually disappeared. "Or do you plan to go back to the Molten Iron Barrier and continue to fight the demons in the abyss?"

"If it's the third option, I'll give you a ride."

Pelglan blinked. When she read the literature before, she knew some of the deeds of this versatile Lord. His few believers were almost all his incarnations, so he had more humanity than other gods. After a little contact with him in the past two days, it was indeed true.

"Thank you for your grace, may..." Perglen sighed and swallowed the words "Tyr bless you" at the end. "I will not go back until the Molten Iron Barrier calms down the internal affairs. The same is true for worshipping the gods here. I also need to think about... His teachings."

The Ender, who had almost disappeared, nodded slightly, said no more, and disappeared in the wind.

All those who have come into contact with Him here will remember that the gray-robed monk had been here, and will also "remember" where he went. When they are about to step into the grave, this "old friend" who has met once will come to pick them up, instead of the image they are familiar with or afraid of.

This is a kind of gift. If these believers who converted to Tyr cannot return to the Kingdom of God after death, their fate will not be very good. Those who use souls for trading or filling their stomachs will also come to find them. Ernest left this memory in their hearts, so that they can avoid similar unprovoked disasters.

There is no need to say much about the future of these monks, but on the side of Delusion, although Ron could guess that Zandia might be referring to Perglan, he was not sure how a mere priest could achieve such a degree, so he had to put it aside and think about the remaining patients first.

As Ron expected, the potions made by Lavinia after he fell asleep could not work on patients of other races; and unexpectedly, when he re-mixed the potion, he found that there were also problems with the reactions of making intermediates!

Some of them did not react!

Although Ron would not be stumped by such problems, after many days of research, he quickly determined the omissions of some of the reaction conditions: because he was a little eager for quick success, he intentionally or unintentionally ignored the slight difference between theoretical and actual data, but...

If it is not successful now, it should not have been successful before!

In Gillianis's laboratory, Ron grabbed his hair and smashed his head on the test bench that had just been cleaned-the problem was solved, but what was the reason?

Some unbearable memories from the past came to his mind. It was a scene where a group of young people in white coats came together to worship their ancestors after encountering similar problems...

It was really a group of... a gathering of heroes. On the desk were celebrities from ancient and modern times, both at home and abroad, for thousands of years. At the very least, they were people who could be on the cover of textbooks. One gentleman still felt that it was not enough, so he "invited" the professor from the next office to come over and worship twice.

As for why he worshipped instead of asking questions directly - the poor old professor had not done experiments himself for more than 40 years, and the experiments he did back then were not the ones he did now. If he was asked, he could only find the reasons from a theoretical level.

Why was it successful before but not now?

How could he know? !

So it is better to worship and seek peace of mind. After all, he is a teacher, and his disciples can certainly afford to worship him.

"My Lord, this is normal,"

Gillianis couldn't help but comfort him: "It is inevitable that some uncertain factors will appear during the experiment. You are not in a hurry to publish a paper..."

"The paper is not urgent, but the patients are," Ron raised his head and glanced at the moon elves faintly, "Many races with strong physiques are naturally not a problem, but humans are not! With such a long high fever, they will be 'burned to death' even if they are burned."

"Although they are now relying on some stopgap measures to prevent them from falling to such a point, they are all consuming the limited inventory of Delusion. Now there is a shortage of manpower, where can we replenish it?"

"It's hard to say, I have to work for a few weeks without sleep..." Ron sighed, and was about to start the next round of experiments, but he heard the door open and a petite figure ran in like the wind.

This halfling dressed as a priest, who else could it be but Boonie?

"Sir Ron! Sir Ron!" The priest of Tymora panted and handed a scroll to Ron, holding his knees and taking a breath, "Just now, a traveler passing by saw our plight and offered to donate some of his research results to help us treat the plague! I thought it might be helpful to you, so I sent it to you as soon as possible!"

"Well, I see, thank you." Ron smiled and expressed his gratitude to the conscientious priest, but Ron did not have high expectations for the information he sent.

It should be some information related to the plague, or at most the plague, but outsiders generally don't know that what they are facing is the power emitted by a dragon lich, and this kind of information can't really play a big role.

It would be good if it was delivered a few days earlier, and it would save Ron a lot of time, but now...

"Hmm?!"

Ron opened the scroll, but his eyes widened immediately - the information written in the common language was not about the plague, but... it was actually!

This was almost all the physical and chemical data in the world that Ron could use! And after these data, there was a string of gold-plated magic runes written on each line. As Ron observed, they were automatically combined and converted into the values ​​and units he was familiar with!

What shocked Ron the most was that at the bottom corner of this scroll, there was a coin with a human face facing up!

This was the holy emblem of the goddess of luck, Tymora!

"Fortune favors the brave, Sir Ron," when seeing Ron raise his extremely shocked eyes, Boone just smiled at him, hiding the fatigue between her brows with the running just now, "Fortune also favors the kind."

"From the moment you first took the risk to agree to my request to save Lavinia, and then you were willing to take us in, I was absolutely sure that you would be favored by the goddess - even if you never prayed to her for anything." (End of this chapter)