When Pan Long said this, the old man was silent for a while, and then asked: "Why do you think that those false holy grails that can kill people will have the same effect as the true holy grail?"

"Because they were made by you," Pan Long said. "I believe in your skills, and I believe you can't be bored to make a lot of fakes with the opposite effect."

As he said that, he couldn't help laughing: "You may not be able to make a cup as powerful as the original Holy Grail, but you should never make that kind of toxic cup. The different effects of the two cups should be done by you through rituals, not that they themselves have completely opposite effects."

"That is, do you think I can make the Holy Grail?"

"certainly."

The old man laughed loudly, and the laughter echoed in the cave, arousing countless echoes. For a moment, it was like many people laughing happily.

After laughing for a long time, he stopped and said happily: "You are the first person to admit my skills! You are much better than the knights whose muscles have grown into their brains! They just don't believe in my research on the Holy Grail. Especially Galahad's psychopath, he insisted that the real Holy Grail will definitely guide mortals to heaven. In the end, I had to make a special Holy Grail for him that can quickly send him to heaven. Alas, it's really embarrassing!"

Pan Long smiled: "As a great sage, one of the most amazing magicians in the history of Britain and even Europe, this kind of thing will definitely not hinder you."

"Yes. In order to make that Holy Grail, I spent more than a month carving the birth of the Son and the Passion of Jesus on both sides of the Golden Cup. Alas! It's really hard! I'm a scholar, not a craftsman!"

Pan Long raised his eyebrows. He now knew why the German officer Donovan died so simply and wonderfully.

Among the piles of true holy grails, he just picked the fake holy grail... No, that fake holy grail was fooled by Galahad, the famous round table knight, back then. It was nothing strange to fool one more.

The old man suddenly remembered something and asked happily: "By the way, which one do you think is the real holy grail in those piles of cups?"

“…Isn’t that wooden cup?”

"Of course not. The wooden cup was made by Jesus for his father Joseph to bury him, but he probably didn't drink wine with this cup."

"Then I can't guess."

"Haha! I knew you couldn't guess it! In fact, no one could guess... The real Holy Grail is actually a pretty big silver cup with the inscription "God loves the world" on it. At the beginning, they made a meeting, and everyone donated money and made this cup. Later, every time they gathered, they used it to pour wine for everyone." The old man said, "But they really didn't use this cup to hold his blood. They were not crazy, so why did they put the blood in the cup? That's not a pervert!"

Pan Long recalled that there was indeed such a cup on the altar.

It is neither simple nor gorgeous, and looks ordinary among a group of cups of all kinds. Even the wisest people probably cannot distinguish it from other gold cups, copper cups and even silver cups that also have inscriptions.

Perhaps, only those who have truly experienced that era, have seen or even used this cup with their own hands can recognize it.

"So does the True Holy Grail have that wonderful effect?" he asked.

"Of course there is." The old man replied, "The cups made by Jesus have such effects. It is better to say that it is precisely for that effect that he made those cups."

“Those cups?”

"Yes, he made many cups in his life. Unfortunately, most of them were destroyed during wandering, escape and fighting, and there were very few left." The old man sighed, "He can give others a strong life, but he cannot make people's strength bigger, speed faster, and harden his skin... Faced with the Roman swords, spears, a group of civilians who were not even sufficient weapons, relying on his treatment, it was too late."

"Then why didn't he find a small place first and relied on his own abilities to pull up a large army?" Pan Long asked.

"I also asked him this question, and he said 'It's my responsibility'. I think he might be self-comfort. After all, he has divine power, and the Romans were not without it. It was impossible to rely on the power of one person to fight against the entire empire."

Pan Long sighed regretfully, he felt that it might not be impossible... But the past is gone, and it is meaningless to argue about this.

"So back to the initial topic, what price should I pay before you are willing to teach me the whole set of techniques?" he asked.

"No need." The old man smiled, "I taught others things and never received any compensation."

As he said that, a circle of pink light rose on the ground, and a roll of thick parchment appeared in the light and slowly flew to Pan Long.

"The key content of this technology is all in it. As for those that are not important... If you can't even deduce those by yourself, don't blame me."

The old man smiled and said, "I gave you the technique. As for the Holy Grail, you can just go and get one on it. As for the sacrifice... I'm sorry, I can't give this to you, so I won't be called a disrespectful teacher."

Pan Long nodded, took the scroll, expanded it and saw symbols and magic circles, and then mixed with many languages ​​that he could not understand.

His expression suddenly became a little stiff and he asked, "What language is this scroll in?"

"Celtic, I originally planned to hand this over to Gao Wen, but he died in the sword bar... The group who had a good relationship with me also died in the sword bar." The old man sighed, "There are not many knights who can read! The result is so extinct."

"I'm sorry, but... I don't understand Celtic either."

The old man frowned and showed a disgusting expression: "What about Latin?"

"don't know."

“Where is Norman?”

"What is that?"

“Where is the Saxon language?”

"...I understand English and modern English." Pan Long said helplessly, "or you can change it to Chinese for me, or you can either do ancient Chinese."

The old man rolled his eyes: "Ancient Chinese? Do you think I look like someone who can write oracle bone script?"

"Then let's put it in regular script, you will definitely do this, right?"

The old man muttered angrily: "The young people nowadays have such high requirements! It's better to have students from the past. They learn whatever they say they want to learn. He doesn't even have to let him fall with a bear..."

Even though he said so, he waved his hand and used spells to turn the text on the scroll into Chinese.

Well, Chinese. Regular script adds ancient vernacular language similar to Romance of the Three Kingdoms.

Pan Long glanced roughly, and was sure that he could understand it, and finally breathed a sigh of relief.

"Thank you very much for your generosity, respected Master Merlin." He saluted the old man, "Then, I will say goodbye."

"Go and go, go and go to the holy land by yourself, don't bother me again."

Pan Long smiled and nodded, left the cave, swayed up in the wind, and soon returned to the secret room, and took the large silver cup engraved with Hebrew from the Altar Mountain.
Chapter completed!