The Dung Beetle Prince (1)
A few hours later, we were able to head back up with the head butler, who had come down to meet us after receiving our message.
"Head Butler, could we stop by the cathedral before we head back?"
"Of course, young master. I shall explain the situation to the Master and Mistress, so please, take your time."
As expected of a head butler. I wish I had a secretary this competent. On a whim, I glanced over at Eri.
Honk-shoo... Honk-shoo...
Eri was sleeping with the most blissful expression on her face. She was even using my thigh as a footrest, sleeping like she didn't have a care in the world. How is this girl supposed to be an assistant?
'Expecting Eri to become like the head butler... that's definitely asking for the impossible.'
I didn't think the words "Eri" and "delicacy" could ever coexist in the same sentence. I shook my head, trying to clear away the idle thoughts.
Before long, the car arrived in front of the cathedral. As soon as the black limousine stopped, a holy knight guarding the entrance asked a polite question.
"What brings you here, brother?"
"My colleague is in bad shape due to a curse. Is it possible to receive treatment?"
"Understood. Please lay the patient down over here."
Apprentice priests immediately loaded Otto onto a stretcher. We were then guided to the senior priest's examination room. The guidance was based on the assumption that I was a noble, given that I had arrived by car.
'Usually, senior priests work by appointment only.'
However, we were able to sit in the senior priest's office immediately, without any waiting lines or reservations. It was a sad reality, but even a religion that preached equality and love could not remain entirely detached from capital and power.
I laid the collapsed Otto on the bed and sat down across from the senior healing priest, with a desk between us. A woman's voice, aged and steady, drifted from behind a veil.
"Greetings, young master. What kind of curse has the patient been exposed to?"
"The Curse of the Pustule grazed him."
To be precise, it was a breakthrough infection, but explaining that would require me to start with the concept of vaccines, so I just glossed over it. If I started explaining vaccines, I might end up getting burned at the stake.
"Fortunately, the patient's own resistance was high, so he avoided a direct hit. It seems to have stopped at severe cold symptoms, muscle aches, and a high fever."
"Have any pustules formed?"
"It hasn't been many hours since he was struck, so I believe they haven't formed yet."
"I see."
The priest continued the interview.
"Have you checked his urine?"
"The color was fine."
"How is his breathing?"
"I didn't hear any wheezing or wet sounds."
"You have summarized the symptoms quite well. Are you perhaps aspiring to be a healing priest?"
"Yes."
Technically, I'm a doctor, but close enough.
"Understood. Based on what you've told me, I don't think any special dispelling magic will be necessary. Basic healing magic should allow for a quick recovery."
"Thank you, Priest."
"Then, let us move to the treatment room."
The senior priest, myself, and Otto on his stretcher headed toward the treatment room.
Creak.
As the heavy door opened, a space so white it made my eyes ache greeted us. From the walls and ceiling to the marble tiles covering the floor, the room was painted in a perfect, flawless white, without a single speck of dust or a tiny stain. A faint scent of oil, meant to soothe the nerves, tickled my nose.
"Please lay the patient down here."
Beyond the altar the senior priest pointed to, a massive Y-shaped cross stood tall. A statue of a woman draped in thin cloth was suspended on that cross, arms outstretched. Clear water was flowing from the feet of the statue. A thin stream of water, starting from the spot where a nail had been driven, flowed down the instep, following a groove that gathered in the center of a magic circle on the floor.
'Mercy, sacrifice, purity, purification... and harmony.'
Every object and arrangement filling this room was tuned for the singular, blind miracle of "healing."
'Well, holy magic is magic, after all.'
Feng shui is surprisingly important. Especially in a world where you can't even see the sun.
The senior priest laid Otto down under the Y-shaped statue with practiced movements, then slowly clasped her hands together and began to pray. I stepped back a pace so as not to interfere with the treatment.
"O you who carry the flesh of suffering upon the branch of mercy..."
As the holy power flowing from the priest's fingertips seeped into Otto's body, his ragged breathing became noticeably calmer.
Scratch, scratch.
I took a notebook and pen from my pocket and jotted down the priest's incantations.
'Could I find some inspiration here?'
In the end, holy magic is just an extension of magic. The only difference is that the resource is holy power, but the fact that symbols and incantations are important remains unchanged. However, strangely enough, there is no magic in this world that heals people. The miracle of healing people is concentrated in holy magic instead. That is why I have been studying the symbols of holy magic whenever I have a spare moment. Thinking that perhaps I could reproduce that miracle with pure magic, rather than holy magic. Of course, there hasn't been any progress for several years.
Scratch, scratch.
It was when only the sound of the pen running across the notebook and the senior priest's prayers were filling the quiet treatment room.
"To try and trap a miracle within the framework of logic. A truly audacious idea."
At the sudden, unfamiliar voice from behind me, I instinctively hunched my shoulders.
'Holy crap, you scared me.'
Fortunately, thanks to the acting I'd practiced since I was four, I didn't let a curse word slip out reflexively. I turned around. An old man with a coat draped over his shoulders like a cape was looking down at me. He was a dandy-looking old man with a large scar visible over the eyepatch covering his right eye. His remaining left eye was fixed on my notebook.
I closed the notebook I was writing in and opened my mouth.
"Are you perhaps..."
"Shh."
The old man brought his index finger to my lips. He pointed toward the area under the Y-shaped statue with his chin.
"Isn't the priest in the middle of performing a miracle? Let's keep our voices down so as not to disturb her."
I nodded. And lowering my voice as much as possible, I whispered in a voice no louder than a mosquito.
"Are you here to see the priest?"
"Ah. I stopped by to get some holy water. It's rare for a senior priest to be working at this hour. I didn't know there would be a predecessor."
The old man also whispered in a secretive voice.
"Holy water?"
"Yes. I, like you, am very interested in holy magic. I have some use for it in my research."
I scanned the old man from head to toe. For someone who came to buy holy water, his attire and aura seemed far removed from faith. Judging by his "like you" comment...
"Are you a mage?"
"Hm? Usually, wouldn't you ask if I'm a magician before asking if I'm a mage?"
"There is a bloodstain on your sleeve. I thought you preferred the field over a laboratory, am I wrong?"
"Haha. You are not only audacious but also a bright little magician."
The old man's gaze shifted to the notebook in my hand.
"In that case, I must apologize. I didn't know you were a magician, and I committed the rudeness of peering into your grimoire."
To a magician, a grimoire is no different from their life. Peering into such a grimoire without permission was an act of rudeness that could easily lead to a life-or-death duel between magicians.
"As one walking the same path of magic, I apologize."
"No, it's not quite a grimoire yet."
I shook my head and opened the notebook again.
"You are welcome to look at it as much as you like. It's still just notes, after all."
"Hmm..."
The old mage rubbed the stubble on his chin. After muttering to himself for a while, he spoke again.
"Even if it is a draft, a grimoire is a grimoire. An idea is just as precious as a discovery itself."
"Thank you for saying so."
"Allow me to make amends. As it happens, I am conducting research similar to yours. Would showing you my grimoire be sufficient as an apology?"
Oh. Such an unexpected stroke of luck. I didn't hesitate to accept this sudden opportunity.
"Would you allow this ignorant young magician to catch a glimpse of your wisdom, sir?"
"Haha. You are a mature magician for your age. Very well. I shall give you my grimoire as well."
He took a notebook out of his pocket and handed it to me.
"This is..."
"Keep it. It's a copy of my grimoire. It will disappear in a week, so make sure to copy it down somewhere beforehand."
I rubbed the notebook the old mage had handed me. Only then did I feel a very faint magical power at my fingertips. It meant it was a notebook replicated by magic.
'My god...'
I looked up at the old man with wide eyes. Unless you're someone peculiar, you wouldn't carry a copy of a grimoire around, so I probably had to assume he'd just replicated it a moment ago. The problem was that I hadn't noticed any incantations or formulas just now.
'Then...'
Goosebumps broke out all over my body. The rank of the old man I could feel right now was 1st-circle. Naturally, I had considered the possibility that the old man's rank was higher than that, but I started to think it might be unimaginably higher.
I couldn't hide my astonishment and froze in place. Seeing this, the old man gave a kind smile and lightly stroked my hair.
"Don't be too surprised, junior. It's just a little trick that time has brought me."
"I am learning a lot, sir."
"Yes."
The old man who was stroking my hair muttered.
"...You have good eyes. They are very clear and deep, like the night sky, fitting for your name."
'Excuse me?'
I almost asked him back without realizing it. The night sky? Can the night sky be clear in a world where you can't even see the sun? The metaphor seems a bit off. And before that, I never told him my name!
Whether he knew my feelings or not, the old man just wore a meaningful smile.
Our subtle tension ended as the senior priest finished her prayer.
"...As the tears of the branch reach the roots, new leaves shall sprout from the roots."
The senior priest lowered her hands as she finished the final prayer. The soft white light that had been circling the treatment room also faded. I immediately checked Otto's condition. His ragged breathing had changed to be as steady as a baby's.
"Phew..."
The senior priest, who had been praying under the statue, also let out a long breath. As she stood up and turned toward us, she discovered the one-eyed old man standing behind me, flinched in surprise, and immediately bowed her head.
"Oh my, sir. Today was the day you were coming. Please wait just a moment."
The senior priest welcomed the uninvited old man without the slightest hint of displeasure.
"I think I only need to take three bottles of holy water today."
"Yes, I will prepare them for you right away."
The senior priest began to collect holy water from the feet of the Y-shaped statue. In the meantime, the old man took a few silver coins from his pocket and placed them on the altar.
"This is a donation."
"Thank you as always, sir. Ah, I will speak to you again after I check on the patient."
"My apologies, I have disturbed you."
Afterward, the senior priest informed me of the precautions for Otto. Summarizing the contents was as follows:
— Roughly speaking, if he starts coughing again when you get home, come straight to the cathedral.
— For a few days, magic won't work well due to the holy power remaining in his body, but it will all evaporate in two days, so don't worry.
— Don't pick up anything strange on the way home, and don't pick up anything like strange dolls.
I memorized the priest's instructions and took Otto to the car. Before leaving the treatment room, I made eye contact with the old mage.
Wink.
The old man winked with his left eye.
"Farewell. My name is written in the notebook. I hope we meet again if fate allows."
"Thank you, sir."
I bowed to the old man and left the treatment room. And just before getting back into the car, I suddenly remembered one fact.
'Huh? Come to think of it...'
During our conversation just now... I didn't remember seeing that mage open his mouth.
***
"Sir. What on earth were you and that young master talking about so happily?"
"Hehe. It's a secret."
After Julian left, the two old men sat facing each other in the senior priest's office. The old mage, who had been called "sir," crossed his legs and said.
"Priestess—"
"I told you, I'm not the Priestess anymore. It's been five years since I handed it over to my junior, what are you going to do if you keep calling me that?"
"Hm? My apologies. As I get older, five years or yesterday, it all seems the same."
Haha. The old mage let out a hearty laugh and continued.
"Anyway, Priestess. How are the black mages doing these days?"
"Their methods have changed. Instead of proselytizing like before, they are scattering their grimoires here and there to make it easy for people to enter the world of black magic."
"Is it difficult to catch them?"
"Even the church cannot stop self-study."
"Hmm..."
"Instead, since it's self-study, the quality is lower compared to when it was an apprenticeship."
"But the quantity can never be ignored. I ask of you. Please recover the black mages' grimoires as much as you can."
"Understood, sir."
The senior priest bowed her head. Then, suddenly, the old mage remembered one fact and added.
"Ah, just in case, don't recover the grimoire of that child who just left."
"Yes? You mean the one you gave him?"
"Not that one. I mean the grimoire of the black mage that you said you had to recover just now. There is one belonging to a very bloodthirsty guy inside that junior's pocket."
"...What?!"
The senior priest's eyes widened like saucers.
"T-then you should have the knights confiscate it immediately...! No, why did you let him go even though you knew that? You even gave him your own magic!"
The old man burst into laughter at the horrified senior priest.
"I have something to check. Trust me and leave it alone for now."
"Sir..."
"I ask of you. Don't worry. If it looks like the child is going to go astray, I will stop him immediately."
The old mage turned his head and looked out the office window. In the distance, he could see the black limousine heading up to Sanctum Hill.
"Youth is a good thing. Isn't watching those fresh ideas also a joy of my remaining life?"
*
Meanwhile, at the same time, inside the limousine returning to the mansion. Relying on the flickering light from the car window, Julian carefully opened the first page of the copy notebook the old mage had given him.
'The name is... Fitch? That's a unique name.'
Julian remembered the name written in the notebook.
'I don't think this is his real name, but well.'
Because according to genre conventions, it didn't seem like this encounter would be the end.