Winds of Change
The prolonged applause gradually died down. I scanned the room with a satisfied expression before speaking.
“Recently, an unfortunate incident occurred at our temple.”
I had debated whether it was right to bring up something unpleasant right in front of the people involved, but I decided it would be better to address it openly and move forward. After all, I wasn’t saying this to shame the two of them.
“While it was indeed a tragic accident, I also believe it was one that could have been prevented if someone had paid just a little more attention to the patient. Of course, there aren’t just one or two patients, so how could anyone possibly look after them all? Even so, I must ask that you manage the patients with even greater care. Aren’t we the ones who deal with life itself? A single small act of attention from any of you can determine whether a patient lives or dies.”
A patient had been neglected and died. Because of that, the two people responsible had been removed from their administrative positions. As the newly appointed chief, I needed to create solutions so the same problem would never happen again.
“In truth, this kind of thing happens fairly often in other temples. It’s never been treated as a real problem before. However, this is a neutral zone. Foreigners from many different countries come here and use our temple. That means our Labyrinth Temple is essentially the face of the Holy Empire.”
Therefore, the priests needed to pay closer attention when caring for patients.
“What was never considered a problem before will now be treated as one. Since we must prevent this from happening again, I have to come up with solutions.”
The Holy Empire had already pointed out the problem and even issued disciplinary measures, so any future changes could be defended as legitimate reform. Some people would surely complain that it was too drastic, but the moral high ground was clearly on my side.
“Does anyone have ideas on how we might eliminate cases of neglected patients? If you have any opinions, please speak up without hesitation.”
“……”
“……”
The atmosphere grew heavy. No one immediately raised their hand to offer a suggestion.
“Is there really no one?”
“I’m sorry.”
“If you give us some time, we’ll think about it.”
“No. We don’t have time. If the same thing happens again, it’s over. There won’t be another chance.”
“Then what should we do?”
“How can we prevent it?”
Closing the temple doors until the problem was solved was out of the question.
“The root cause of patients being neglected is the tendency to pass patients who can’t be treated on to other healers. The more difficult the illness, the more people try to avoid taking responsibility.”
At my candid observation, the priests avoided making eye contact. There probably wasn’t a single person in this room who had never turned away from a difficult patient.
“So what would the solution be?”
One of the chick healers enthusiastically shot his hand into the air, proving that my teaching had not been in vain.
“We learn! If we study and gain more knowledge, the number of incurable diseases will decrease!”
“Exactly.”
That was precisely what I had wanted to say.
“I have no intention of forcing anyone. Studying under duress never yields good results. Instead, I want to gather those who genuinely want to learn and work together to solve these chronic problems. I’m not saying I’ll unilaterally teach you. Everyone will take turns being both student and teacher. We’ll share what we know and fill in each other’s gaps.”
“Priest Arthur, aren’t you making this into something rather large?”
Chillan must have realized this would become far bigger than simply giving personal instruction here and there, because he expressed clear concern.
“As long as we don’t address the fundamental cause of the incident, this problem cannot be solved. I believe this is the only way.”
“Who would actually want to do that?”
“Thank you for your concern, but look.” I gestured toward the priests. “Everyone seems quite eager.”
When Chillan turned to look at the other priests, he saw their eyes sparkling with motivation. Sharing knowledge with others might feel awkward and unfamiliar at first, but once they tried it, they would quickly realize how beneficial it was.
We had no idea how many more patients would come to the Labyrinth Temple in the future. This would help both the patients and the priests’ own growth.
“Wait, are they really willing to share their own knowledge with others?”
Chillan still couldn’t understand the other priests’ decision. He seemed to be thinking, What if someone else rises higher than me by using the knowledge I shared?
“Since they’ll gain other priests’ knowledge in return for what they give, there’s no point in keeping score.”
Since I had already taken on this role and escaping the position anytime soon seemed unlikely, I decided I might as well go all out. Someday I would grow enough to take on administrative duties anyway. Experiencing these ideas I had only vaguely imagined before didn’t seem like a bad idea.
“A lot of things are going to change from now on. I sincerely hope that both Priest Chillan and Priest Ando will help me a great deal.”
“It’s surprising that there’s still more that can change.”
If he heard about the treatment center I was envisioning, he might actually faint. I wonder if he’s ever heard of Internal Medicine and Surgery.
Dividing things too precisely from the start would be hard for everyone to understand, so I planned to split into two broad categories with the widest possible meaning. From teaching the younger healers, I had realized that each priest had fields they were naturally better at. Some excelled at internal medicine issues, while others handled surgical matters far more smoothly. That was why I wanted to begin by dividing into internal and external departments.
Of course, the diseases humans suffer from couldn’t be fully covered by just those two categories, but since my own knowledge in those areas was limited, I intended to start with what I could actually do and build from there.
Besides, the priests here used divine power to heal, didn’t they?
That means localization is necessary.
Naturally, dividing into two departments would involve plenty of trial and error. How many people could instantly choose one or the other when suddenly told to pick? Before officially dividing the departments, we first needed to let the chick healers learn enough to discover what they were better at and what they actually enjoyed.
Just thinking about the administrative procedures I had to handle and the reports I needed to submit to my superiors already made my head throb.
“We will divide the priests into two departments and distribute personnel accordingly. However, we’ll need to assign more people to Surgery than to Internal Medicine. After all, most of the patients here will likely require surgical care.”
I willingly shared my thoughts with Priest Chillan and Priest Ando. Since this would be difficult to carry out alone, I absolutely needed their help.
“We’ll establish the departments through examinations later. Those who meet the criteria and pass the test will be accepted into their chosen department and work as specialized healers. I’d like Priest Ando to take charge of administering these exams.”
“Impressive.”
“Pardon?”
Priest Ando, who had been quietly listening, suddenly spoke up with an unexpected comment.
“It’s as if you’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time. Did you perhaps see the future?”
“What? Of course not.”
“Then did you come up with this entire plan in such a short time?”
The look in Ando’s eyes as he stared at me was far from ordinary.
“Not at all. These are plans I’ve idly daydreamed about for a while. Everyone imagines things like ‘It would be nice if we did this’ or ‘It would be better if we did that’ at least once, don’t they?”
“I’m not so sure. Even if people have such thoughts, not just anyone can create a plan this systematic and concrete.”
I simply copied the system from a university hospital in my previous life, but facing those overly sparkling eyes made my conscience hurt quite a bit.
At that moment, Chillan, apparently growing impatient, jumped into the conversation.
“What should I do?”
“I’m actually worried because I’ve already asked so much of you, Priest Chillan. Managing the other priests isn’t an easy task, is it?”
“Haha! Don’t worry. I’m a capable man. This much burden is nothing to me!”
He seemed concerned that he might end up with a less important role than Ando.
“About this Internal Medicine and Surgery division. I heard it’s divided according to treatment methods. In that case, shouldn’t each department have a representative?”
Perhaps thanks to his seasoned political instincts, he quickly realized where he could expand his influence.
“Yes, that’s correct.”
For now, Chillan was handling everything, but later I planned to appoint representatives for both Surgery and Internal Medicine to manage the healers under them. Of course, all of this could fall apart once the new bishop arrived. The new bishop might dislike my plans, after all. People at the bishop level generally disliked change.
“Then I’ll take Surgery.”
“What kind of nonsense is that?”
When Chillan immediately claimed Surgery, Ando pushed back. In the Labyrinth Temple, if nowhere else, Surgery would inevitably hold more influence than Internal Medicine. Chillan had moved first because he knew that.
“The departments aren’t even properly established yet. What meaning would there be in becoming a representative now? We should decide carefully and deliberately.”
Under Ando’s ironclad defense, Chillan could only smack his lips in disappointment. The fact that they could fight so consistently was a skill in itself. Even though they bickered constantly, they never refused work and actively helped. I was truly grateful.
“By dividing the fields like this, we’ll be able to decide which priest is responsible much faster when a patient arrives. Even if someone can’t treat the case, they can ask a more senior priest for help, or if that doesn’t work, call for the chief healer.”
“Indeed.”
“Oh ho.”
For now we were only dividing into Internal Medicine and Surgery, but later we could subdivide even further. Thinking that far ahead was too headache-inducing, so I decided not to dwell on it. If it worked, great. If not, that was fine too. This was essentially a pilot operation anyway.
Eventually, we could build a treatment center that rivals a large hospital. I’m just planting the seeds.
How the new bishop who would arrive tended those seeds would determine the future.
What remained now was how well the priests could adapt to the changes. The current medical system involved personally approaching each patient and asking if they could treat them.
“If things go according to my plan, the number of patients who die from neglect should decrease dramatically.”
“What about that study thing? How is it progressing?”
“Everyone is participating very actively.”
“They’re really willingly sharing what they know?”
Chillan asked with clear doubt in his voice. He still seemed unable to believe that the study group I had created was running properly. I smiled and answered.
“Of course. It’s going very well.”
And so, an unexpected wind of new change began to blow through the Labyrinth Temple.
After a certain amount of knowledge exchange had taken place, we divided the priests into Internal Medicine and Surgery and distributed personnel as planned. First, we surveyed which department each person wanted, then I personally assessed the priests’ skills before making final decisions. Some people had an objective understanding of what treatments they were confident in, but there were many cases where that wasn’t true, so I had no choice but to verify myself.
Still, it was worth the hard work.
If all that effort dividing the departments had been for nothing, I would have felt drained, but fortunately that wasn’t the case. The effects after dividing the fields were astonishing. Even Chillan and Ando, who had been watching skeptically to see if my plan would actually work, acknowledged it. The number of patients left neglected because no one was responsible had noticeably decreased.
Previously, the chief healers had taken turns to ensure no one was abandoned, but now that was no longer necessary. The fact that they had been studying while sharing knowledge with each other also played a role.
Of course, it would be a lie to say there were no growing pains in implementing all this. Some priests had agreed to share all their knowledge but hid important information, causing problems.
I just don’t understand why they cling so desperately to knowledge. It’s not like you can take it with you when you die.
Having lived in a previous life where knowledge was so abundant it was almost a problem, I found this world’s closed-mindedness difficult to relate to in many ways. Since only a small number of people caused trouble, I relied on Priest Chillan’s help to soothe and persuade them.
And once the departments were divided and the real effects began to show, no one opposed my plan anymore. The pointless resistance disappeared as well. Moreover, the response was extremely positive—people said that studying one field in depth made it much easier to retain related knowledge.
“Everyone seems to be adapting to the changes well. Maybe it’s because they’re young.”
“That’s a relief.”
Of course, simply changing the system didn’t mean we could save every patient. Some patients still lost their lives, and there were those who ultimately died without receiving proper treatment. But it was definitely an improvement compared to before.
“By the way, have you noticed that patients’ wounds have become extremely severe lately?”
“I was actually going to bring that up myself. More people are dying in the temple, so the morale of the brothers is quite low. They’re working hard, but the results aren’t good.”
“There are priests who are studying with great enthusiasm, but because bad things keep happening, some have started blaming themselves.”
Chillan’s worries soon proved true.
“Lately I keep thinking, why am I so incompetent? If only I had been a little more skilled, I might have been able to save them…”
Several more people had died today. Seeing a priest suffering alone from the emotional wounds, I decided he needed counseling and called him in.
“Why are you blaming yourself like this? There’s no one who studies as diligently as you do, Brother.”
I remembered this priest clearly because he burned with unusual passion for studying. Seeing him wilted like a drooping spinach leaf made me realize how serious the situation was. I wondered how I could comfort him so that he could regain his strength.