The Enduring Princess
“May the Sun God’s blessing be with you.”
“Oh, I pray for the Sun God’s grace. Are you Priest Arthur?”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
“Ah— I am Priest Cardon. This is Bishop Haman.”
I had assumed the older man was the bishop, but it turned out the younger one held the title. “My apologies.”
“Not at all. I often receive that misunderstanding because I look younger than my friend here. Haha.”
“That’s hardly fair. I’m the younger one.”
He wasn’t merely young—he simply had a youthful face. Even after I mistook his rank, he showed no offense.
“I’ve heard you’re leading the temple quite well.”
“I’m doing my best with my limited abilities.”
“How humble. Who taught you to conduct yourself this way?”
“Rather than receiving direct instruction, I’ve simply worked together with the other priests.”
At that moment, Priest Chillan cut in. “Priest Arthur is remarkably modest. Honestly, we only assisted—he did everything himself.”
From then on, Priest Chillan began boasting about me. No amount of subtle glances could stop him. Seeing Priest Ando nodding along beside him, it was clear the two had planned this in advance.
“Oh~! Priest Arthur devised that system himself? Remarkable. It would be wonderful if it could be used elsewhere. What do you think?”
“It would be an honor. If it can ease others’ burdens, I have no objections.”
“Excellent. Very good.”
Bishop Haman nodded with satisfaction, a smile on his face.
“Entering the Labyrinth is important, of course, but so is the well-being of our priests. It’s impressive that you can care for so many patients with limited staff without any issues arising.”
“However, there are aspects that aren’t realistically feasible. The study sessions, for example?”
Priest Cardon voiced the concern he had been most worried about.
“Of course, there are parts that need improvement. Still, it’s a worthwhile experiment.”
I hadn’t expected someone who had risen to bishop to show such clear understanding. Meanwhile, Priest Cardon—the younger chief healer—remained skeptical. Bishop Haman seemed to see the larger picture that Cardon had missed.
‘Not just anyone can become a bishop. He recognized how efficient the system is the moment he heard about it.’
While answering the bishop’s questions, I explained in full how I hoped to develop the system further. Priests Chillan and Ando looked concerned that I was revealing too much, but I spoke freely, knowing it would be difficult to implement in practice anyway.
Before I could finish even half my explanation, Priest Cardon interrupted our pleasant conversation.
“Your Grace, you’ve already used too much time. Please remember the subjugation force is waiting.”
At his words, we both realized the time. Though reluctant, it was time to part.
“So it seems I had other matters to attend to.”
Bishop Haman gazed at me with such longing that one might think he was parting from a lover. In the end, I could only offer words of comfort.
“Please go ahead. I can always make time for you.”
“You have far too many responsibilities. There’s more than enough to prepare for.”
Priest Cardon spoke as though the idea was impossible. Bishop Haman sighed and placed a hand on my shoulder.
“It will likely be difficult to find time until you return from the Labyrinth. Won’t you be entering the Labyrinth yourself, Priest Arthur?”
“As the person in charge here, I can’t simply abandon my post.”
Even without my answering, Priest Cardon replied on my behalf.
“Aigoo, I was hoping to have a quiet chat with Brother Arthur. What a shame. Priest Arthur! I’ll return once my work is done, so please prepare the summary materials for the Holy Empire by then. Just organize what you’ve told me.”
“Yes. Understood.”
His request for formal documentation meant he genuinely intended to apply this system to other temples—not merely offering empty praise.
‘It won’t be easy to overhaul the temple system according to my methods… I wonder if it’s even possible.’
Though everyone acknowledged the system’s efficiency, many priests preferred to maintain tradition. In that regard, Bishop Haman’s openness to change suggested which faction he belonged to.
‘If Bishop Haman is truly interested and proposes a trial run at other temples, even if I leave, they won’t be able to change things arbitrarily.’
That was why I had shared the information so readily. Once I left and washed my hands of this place, it wouldn’t matter how the Labyrinth Temple changed. But the Sun God had gifted me knowledge in my dreams, praising my work. Receiving such a reward for doing well, I couldn’t comfortably allow everything to revert to how it was before.
‘Our Sun God is merciful, but even so, doing something like that would probably earn me a scolding.’
I wasn’t a particularly devout priest of the Sun God. Still, when He had directly told me, “You’re doing well. How admirable,” I wasn’t shameless enough to ignore it.
If I wanted to grow the Labyrinth Temple according to my plans, at the very least the bishop needed to be someone like Bishop Haman—someone I could reason with. The problem was that not every bishop was like him. Moreover, to implement a new system, it was far more effective for someone of bishop rank to advocate for it rather than a chief healer.
Even my own master, the bishop of Palmore Church, had once been a formidable Inquisitor in his prime. Bishop Haman likely had an impressive background as well.
‘Who would dare ignore a bishop’s recommendation?’
Once Bishop Haman and Priest Cardon departed for their duties, my seniors lamented that I had shared far too much. Somehow, the image they held of me seemed to be growing increasingly strange. I was human too—I had desires of my own.
‘Even a monk who has attained enlightenment isn’t without desires. Still, if this misunderstanding works in my favor, I might as well leave it be.’
Being seen as an unambitious junior wasn’t harmful to me, so I accepted their peculiar gazes with feigned nonchalance.
◎◎◎
The temple had been abuzz with excitement upon the subjugation force’s arrival. Yet even on such days, patients continued to arrive without pause, and the treatment center quickly returned to its usual state.
While treating a patient—
“?”
A familiar knight approached me with an urgent expression. The moment I saw his face, I understood why he had come. After entrusting the patient to another healer, I hurried toward the private room.
Knock, knock, knock—
“It’s Priest Arthur. I’m coming in.”
Even after arriving, I couldn’t easily compose my expression. The first treatment had been at ten in the morning, and now it was five in the afternoon—only seven hours later, and her symptoms had returned. I had suspected the cycle would shorten, but I hadn’t expected it to happen this quickly. The situation was serious.
The light that had still been burning brightly when I left that morning had already gone out. In the darkness, Princess Canaby lay on the bed and extended her left arm toward me.
“Treatment…”
Seeing her body drenched in cold sweat, I realized she hadn’t called for me the moment the symptoms began.
“I told you to summon me as soon as symptoms appeared. You didn’t. How long did you endure?”
“…Two hours ago.”
“…”
I couldn’t understand why she kept trying to hide her pain. It was absurd that she had endured two hours of suffering alone when a healer was within arm’s reach.
“Your Highness.”
If I wanted her active cooperation, I needed to make it clear that she shouldn’t force herself to bear the pain.
“Even if you hide it from others, you must be honest with me—the one responsible for your health. I understand this isn’t something that can be resolved through force. It must be especially difficult for you. But I am someone who prays for your well-being.”
I would pray very earnestly at evening prayers that she sleep well tonight.
“So please, be honest with me at least. Don’t endure the pain alone.”
The harm caused by her lack of cooperation would fall entirely on her, not me. If she continued to hide her pain even after this, there was nothing more I could do.
‘If she won’t cooperate, what can I do?’
Perhaps my sincerity had reached her, for Princess Canaby spoke.
“Wouldn’t it trouble you if I kept calling for you?”
“How often do you intend to call?”
“You said to tell you whenever it hurts. I feel pain constantly. That’s why I endured as long as I could before calling you.”
“Then let’s do this instead.”
“??”
Rather than repeatedly telling someone with inhuman patience to call for me, it would be better if I simply came to her myself.
“I’ll visit whenever I have time. Frequently.”
“Here? Frequently?”
“Yes—if Your Highness permits it.”
“How often do you plan to come?”
“Well, whenever there are no patients?”
She seemed unable to grasp how often that would be.
“There isn’t much of today left, so would you like to experience it, even briefly?”
“Coming often means using up your time. Are you certain this is all right?”
“Yes. I have my own personal life as well, so I’ll treat you within reasonable limits. What do you say?”
After a moment of contemplation, the princess finally gave her consent.
“Until midnight, then.”
“A wise choice. I’ll do my utmost for Your Highness’s recovery.”
While I couldn’t remove the curse itself, I could at least buy her more time to endure it.
“I’ll begin the treatment.”
I also had a duty to ensure no traces of the curse remained in her body to cause aftereffects. Princess Canaby seemed puzzled that I had started without asking any questions.
“You’re not asking about the symptoms this time?”
“Hallucinations, auditory hallucinations, and pain in the arm—am I correct?”
“You are.”
“I already know all of it. If any other symptoms appear, please tell me then. And don’t hide things like insomnia only to mention them later.”
“…I won’t.”
The treatment itself didn’t take long. Having performed it multiple times already, I had grown proficient and the process had shortened.
“How do you feel?”
“The curse has completely vanished. As always, it’s remarkably comfortable.”
“You endured well today as well. I hope that monster is caught soon…”
It was an abrupt thought, but I couldn’t help wondering what kind of creature had cursed Princess Canaby in the first place.
‘Is it a difficult one to catch?’
I would need to have entered the Labyrinth myself to even guess, but without any knowledge of the place, even imagining it was difficult.