4. Imperial Capital Lumentium - 13
4. Imperial Capital Lumentium - 13
I couldn't fathom the reason, but Ariel was refusing to heal Lucian. A cleric who has renounced all worldly things to return to the Goddess is supposed to offer healing equally to all people—yet here she was, rejecting another's request for healing. On the purely personal grounds that she simply "didn't want to," without any grand explanation. In the middle of the banquet hall, no less, where countless ears could hear.
"....."
'...She's completely out of her mind.'
I'd been wavering a little before, but now I was certain. The Ariel of today had a screw loose. Or maybe she'd always been like this.
Of course, I'm not naive enough to spout dusty old platitudes like "a cleric must dispense her Divine Power fairly to all." Divine Power comes from the Goddess, but the one exercising it is a person. I know perfectly well that clerics are human, and because they live their lives entangled with others in the mortal world, that Divine Power can't be meted out equally. To put it bluntly, a cleric doesn't dig money out of the ground, and they can't survive on dew alone like the elves—though, to be fair, elves don't actually live on dew either.
Anyway, the point is this: just as the Imperial Princess was making a fuss earlier about Ariel not bowing to her, clerics are deeply tied to the powerful of this world and are far more mindful of their moods than you'd think. For instance, if a noble and a commoner visit a temple at the same time, the noble gets healed first. If nobles hold a Consecration Ceremony, clerics will drop everything to attend and bestow blessings. I don't mean to blame them for that—after all, the one thinking these thoughts is me, a card-carrying member of that privileged class. Nothing is more repugnant than a man who's sucked all the sweet and bitter marrow from the bone muttering about privilege.
Among them, Ariel was a woman who stood at the very pinnacle of the clergy. She hadn't yet received the title of "Saintess" at this point in time, but her immense Divinity from birth and the Divine Authority granted by the Goddess made her one of the most prominent figures in the Church. In other words, there was a real danger that a single word from Ariel's lips could be mistaken for the will of the entire Church.
In short, openly declaring that she would refuse to heal someone for a purely personal reason was a remark that clearly didn't come from someone in their right mind.
My face went pale before I knew it, and I hurriedly glanced around. By some genuine stroke of luck, no one else seemed to have overheard Ariel's explosive statement just now.
I shot a look at Lucian, sprawled out on the floor, blissfully ignorant. What in the world had this guy done wrong to make Ariel say she "didn't want to heal him"?
'...Did he commit some act of blasphemy in the past?'
From what I remembered, Saintess Ariel had been such a frustratingly kind woman that even on a forced march north, she'd slow the entire party's pace if it meant helping someone in need. To earn the enmity of a woman that gentle—was this fool completely unaware that a woman's grudge could bring frost even in midsummer? I clicked my tongue once and looked down at Lucian, who knew nothing about a woman's heart.
"...Nothing for it, then."
The ideal outcome would have been Ariel healing him, but if she refused, I'd have to wake the guy myself. Leaving him to roll around the banquet hall floor like a piece of trash would just be a nuisance to the serving staff too.
"Lord Kain, don't tell me you also studied the healing arts in the past?"
"Picked up a few things here and there. Passably."
It was nothing more than the odds and ends I'd picked up before the regression, trailing behind four women far stronger than me. Or, to be more precise, it was a desperate flailing I'd learned so I wouldn't be a burden to them.
I might not know much else, but waking one fool passed out on the ground was easy. After all, it was the very "treatment method" the Imperial Princess had used on me after beating me senseless every single day.
I placed my hand neatly over his heart and focused a "Flow" into my fingertips.
Thump—
I could feel it. The beat of his heart. Once I reached this point, my job was simple. Gather the Flow scattered throughout his body, then stimulate it forcefully, as if jolting his heart—
"Keu-heok—!"
...And the unconscious person would wake up. I didn't know the exact principle, but it was one of the first-aid techniques the Imperial Princess had taught me—supposedly for emergencies—while instructing me in the Flowing Star.
Still, to be fair, it was just a half-baked emergency measure that could only be used on someone who'd collapsed unconscious in this manner.
"Hah, hah, hah..."
His heart must have been squeezed rather sharply, because Lucian spent a long while gasping for air, his complexion pale. Then, looking around, he finally noticed my presence watching him in silence and spoke with a bewildered look.
"...Kain von Estel. Don't tell me you're the one who woke me up?"
At Lucian's question, I nodded calmly.
"That's right. You were lying on the floor, making a nuisance of yourself, so I woke you to get a grip."
"...Why did you wake me?"
When Lucian aimed those words at me, looking faintly reproachful, I answered in disbelief.
"What do you mean, why? A young noble of your standing was taking a nap on the banquet hall floor like some drunkard, and nobody could touch you. I woke you so you'd stop causing a scene for everyone else."
At my helpful explanation, Lucian rubbed his temple once, then stared at me with a dazed expression.
"...I see. Then I have been defeated by you."
As he spoke, Lucian took in the sight of the banquet hall, which was already beginning to wind down, and murmured quietly.
"...It seems a fair amount of time has passed since we fought our duel. Kain von Estel, you were right. If I'd lain here unconscious in the banquet hall for so long, I must indeed have been a great nuisance to others."
Lucian slowly rose to his feet, speaking with surprising decency. But with his right cheek swollen up like a balloon, it didn't look remotely dignified.
"Then I shall take my leave. Kain von Estel, I will be sure to repay you someday for waking me. Until then, stay in good health."
Leaving those noble-sounding words behind, Lucian spun on his heel.
"Hey, wait."
"...What is it?"
Lucian looked confused at being stopped so abruptly. Without a word, I pulled a few gold coins from my leather pouch and pressed them into his hand.
"...What's this?"
"Call it professional courtesy toward a business partner. Or a little kickback. Or both. Anyway, take it."
"...I don't follow. Are you insulting me?"
An insult? What a hurtful thing to say. Giving him gold coins was an act of pure goodwill. I'd earned so much money thanks to Lucian, and I thought it wouldn't be right to send him off without some small return. To be honest, the guy also looked a little pitiful.
"...Hah. Charity born from pity is also a form of insult. Remember that."
Even as he said that, the guy slipped the gold coins into his own pocket. Then, heaving a sigh for some unknown reason, he turned and... left the banquet hall. ...Indeed, a relentlessly sincere attitude really does get through anywhere in the world. See? Even a blockhead like that departed without another word.
As I sighed in relief, thinking I'd taken care of my one task, someone beside me tapped my shoulder repeatedly. When I turned my head, Ariel was looking at me, a leisurely smile no different from her usual one on her face. It was a stark contrast to Aria, who was keeping her eyes downcast for some reason.
"Then it seems I really must be going as well. Until next time, Kain. Farewell."
With those words, Ariel gave me a polite nod and then vanished from the banquet hall.
"....."
I silently watched Ariel's retreating figure, and a sudden suspicion took root.
"Aria."
"Yes."
"That woman... don't you feel like she's treating me a bit too casually?"
"...What do you mean?"
Aria tilted her head, as if she didn't quite understand.
But as I watched Ariel's figure receding into the distance, a single suspicion had taken root.
Could it be, that woman—