I Became a Priest Impostor (4)
I managed to open my eyes even at this early hour once more.
I had no intention of dawdling over a leisurely breakfast, so I snatched up a single loaf of bread and set out immediately, heading not toward the clinic but straight for the bustling market.
“How much for a maple-wood piece?”
“Just a half-coin will do.”
“...Could you give me change?”
Since I had no idea what a half-coin even was, I handed over the entire coin I’d been offered. The merchant cut me a half-coin in return, looking thoroughly amused.
“So that’s why they sell half-coins,” I muttered to myself, a wry grin tugging at my lips.
Back in Korea I would never have imagined such a transaction. Even if the merchant had cut me a fake coin, he probably wouldn’t have been caught—unless someone wanted to report a currency forgery. But here it was simply part of the day’s business.
“Now all I need is a proper knife for the wood,” I said under my breath.
Maple-wood pieces were easy to find, but the real obstacle was the blade.
“...Is this small knife really worth an entire silver coin?” I asked, holding it up.
“Small or not, it’s forged steel and has been honed to a razor edge. An honest price is one silver coin.”
I tried asking directly at the stall, half-hoping for a discount, but the price held firm.
Well, if it wasn’t a haggling scam, I had little choice but to pay. The expenditure was necessary, yet the thought of my almost-empty purse made my chest tighten—the inevitable reaction of anyone with even a shred of conscience.
Still, I was grateful I’d found work so quickly, and I trudged wearily toward the clinic, my steps heavy.
…
“Good that you’re here on time,” Margaret said the instant I stepped inside the clinic, her voice carrying the weight of someone who had feared I might vanish.
“...Were you worried I might not show up?”
“Of course I was. Anyone who can actually wield healing power and has been wandering the streets for years? How could I simply trust them? And yet here you are—someone who doesn’t even need to worry about money.”
I kept my thoughts to myself. Margaret was, after all, just doing her job.
The clinic’s interior was unusually quiet today—nothing like yesterday’s usual bustle.
“That’s a relief,” I thought.
There were errands I needed to run away from prying eyes.
“I’ll step out to familiarize myself with the surrounding area,” I told Margaret.
“Running away again?”
“Come on, you can trust me, Priest.”
I slipped behind the clinic, away from Margaret’s ever-present suspicions.
“Perfect—sunlight and no one around,” I noted.
I found a spot and sat down, pulling out the maple-wood piece and the dagger I’d bought as a makeshift knife.
The dandelions blooming around us gave me an excellent reference for shaping the symbol.
Square—square—
...tch.
“Hmph,” I grunted, accidentally nicking myself a few times. But I immediately used my self-healing to seal the cuts and kept carving.
“What are you hiding from?” a voice called from behind.
I froze mid-stroke. When I turned, Margaret stood there, studying the half-finished dandelion shape on the wooden board.
She’d clearly been searching for me, half worry, half curiosity.
“Troublesome,” I sighed internally.
She narrowed her eyes at the half-finished dandelion.
“That’s a symbol, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“Then why are you carving it yourself?”
The excuse slipped out before I could stop it, and I realized I’d already gotten quite good at lying.
“...I lost my belongings while fleeing an orc ambush. The symbol went with them.”
“So you’re making it from scratch?”
“If the Flower Church were nearby I could have it reissued, but there’s none close by.”
Margaret stroked her chin thoughtfully.
“True. It’s hard to find a priest of the Flower Goddess unless you’re near a capital or holy city.”
Fortunately, no suspicion showed on her face. She simply nodded, as if a wandering priest losing his symbol was an everyday occurrence.
With her guard down, I continued carving.
“...This is surprisingly fun,” I admitted to myself.
My fingers had nicked themselves a few times, yet my carving skill seemed to be improving by the minute.
Just under an hour had passed when a dandelion bloom appeared on the round board.
It was crude compared to the reference photo, but unmistakably a dandelion.
Now came the real test.
According to the gallery, the true symbol required a unique aura infused into it—not just an identical shape.
“If it needs aura, I’ll just add some,” I decided.
I placed my hand on the finished shape.
Whoosh—
A radiant light slowly seeped into the wood.
“You know how to infuse blessing,” Margaret murmured in admiration.
“Blessing?” I thought, startled. I had simply been trying to make it look real, yet to her it appeared to be a true blessing.
“At least this method isn’t wrong,” I reflected.
Confident, I kept infusing power. The engraved dandelion began to glow faintly, carrying an ethereal scent.
At that moment Margaret’s voice cut in.
“It’s already complete—stop before you overdo it. Do you plan to die making a holy relic?”
She grabbed my wrist to stop me.
“...I got carried away.”
“If you get carried away twice you’ll actually die making one,” she warned.
Only then did I pull back my power.
I examined the finished symbol.
“It’s glowing,” I noted, smiling faintly.
The engraved dandelion shimmered with soft light. Somehow it even smelled faintly of flowers.
“The blessing has this kind of effect too,” I realized, not entirely surprised.
After all, I had never expected a simple wooden piece to gain such abilities. The world after the Towers had taught me that anything was possible.
“Won’t you engrave a name?”
“Name?” I glanced at the reference photo.
Indeed, faint letters could be seen beneath the dandelion engraving—too small for me to notice earlier.
“This is awkward,” I thought.
I still couldn’t read the local script well enough to engrave a proper name. Luckily the gallery had a chart of the alphabet.
I checked the pronunciation for each character and carefully carved them in one by one.
Flowey.
The moment the last letter was finished, Margaret stared at the completed symbol for a long time before speaking.
“Plawi… that’s your name, then?”
“Did you not hear it from another priest?”
“I did hear it. But isn’t an introduction usually part of it?”
She was teasing, of course, but the underlying message was clear: introduce yourself properly.
Straightening up, I crossed myself and began.
“This humble servant of the Flower Goddess, Iris, is Plawi.”
“The elderly servant of the Earth Goddess Gaia is Margaret,” she replied, mirroring the gesture.
“It is an honor to meet you, Priest Margaret.”
“The pleasure is mine, Priest Plawi.”
Thinking back, we had spent the entire day together yet had only exchanged names today.
“It’s no wonder Margaret was worried I might disappear without introducing myself,” I chuckled.
From her perspective, a healer who could be exploited had finally arrived, yet he refused to reveal even his name—how could she not be anxious?
…
“Stop pretending to be lazy and come inside,” Margaret said.
“There’s no patient anyway. No rush—just take your time.”
I had only come out because there were no patients to hide from.
Still, Margaret gave a small laugh.
“No patients, but something more bothersome is coming soon.”
“Someone who lent you money?”
“Something like that.”
Knock—knock—knock—
Just as I wondered if a tiger really came when you called its name, hurried footsteps echoed down the corridor.
A moment later the female priest from yesterday burst through the back door, her face deathly pale.
“Priest Margaret!”
“Already? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
The contrast between Margaret’s weary expression and the newcomer’s ghostly pallor was striking.
And then the woman spoke, and I finally understood why there had been no patients all morning.
“T-the Lord has arrived!”
“...She’s here,” I thought, a wave of dread washing over me.
Given the Lord’s reputation, I had no desire to meet him—let alone because it would be awkward.
“Then let’s go quickly, Priest Plawi,” Margaret said.
“...Am I coming too? I’d rather stay behind out of embarrassment.”
“The Lord came specifically to see your face. If you run now it would be pointless.”
“Understood,” I nodded, though my stomach churned.
“Damn it,” I swore internally.
Still, pretending I wasn’t bothered, I followed Margaret.
Following the female priest’s lead, we reached a courtyard where several soldiers stood beside a middle-aged man with a stern expression.
Clearly the Lord.
“He has the bearing of a noble who squeezes the blood from his subjects,” I thought.
Margaret noticed my expression and whispered.
“The Lord has a kindly face despite appearances. Do not misunderstand.”
“C-certainly, Priest Margaret,” I replied, though the Lord’s ears had heard every word.
“Pretend you didn’t hear that,” she muttered.
“Haha…”
Margaret’s cheeky attitude only made the Lord smile awkwardly.
Soon he composed himself and approached me with a warm smile.
“I’ve heard much about you, Priest Plawi! I am overjoyed that you have come to our city!”
“...Thank you for your welcome.”
But what was I supposed to say?
His appearance suggested a greedy, tyrannical man, yet the Lord’s personality was nothing like that.
“I was already worried about Margaret Priest alone bearing such a heavy burden.”
Surprisingly, there was no pretense of distance.
“With Priest Plawi here in such circumstances, I feel as though I have gained an army of ten thousand.”
The Lord spoke at length, like a city’s true master.
“And I heard you are staying at an inn. If you wish, I can build a church for you to stay in. Please consider this city your home and remain with us for a long time. Of course, I am not forcing you.”
What was even more astonishing was how humbly the Lord—the ruler of the city—had approached.
Comments flooded the gallery as soon as the news spread.
Finally it made sense.
The Lord wasn’t simply desperate to keep one priest. He was rolling out the red carpet to lure an entire moving university hospital to his territory.
Now that the pieces had fallen into place, my worry lifted.
At least I knew it was for the sake of the city.
“Oh, and I heard from the gate guards. You lost your belongings while fleeing an orc attack.”
“Yes.”
“Fortunately the soldiers caught the orcs yesterday. Finding your belongings should be a simple matter of time.”
"…"
“There’s nothing there,” I thought.
The earlier lightness vanished, replaced by renewed heaviness.