The Healer Who Hates Training (2)
"Come sit here. You're early, aren't you?"
As I sat down across from the bishop, he greeted me with a gentle smile. My anxiety only climbed higher.
"I was startled when they told me you were looking for me first thing this morning. I wondered if I'd done something wrong again, like when I was a kid and about to get scolded."
"Oh dear, is there something weighing on your conscience? I shudder to think what trouble you're plotting to spring on this old man next."
"I haven't done anything wrong. It's just that I get nervous the moment you call for me. You only ever bring bad news, after all."
"Have I really been like that?"
Things like ordering me off on training, or discussing my grades. Those were the sorts of topics he used to bring up. Naturally, none of them left pleasant memories.
After I received my church education and awakened my divine power, I was assigned here to Palmore Church for further training. It was a tiny rural church in the middle of nowhere, hardly worthy of being called a temple. When I first arrived, the bishop took me around everywhere, showing me all sorts of things so I could learn.
He's my master. Even if he did leave me to my own devices more often than not.
Thinking back on the training process still makes my teeth grind. Still, I couldn't resent him completely. Thanks to him, I was able to become the skilled healer I am today.
If not for the bishop's teachings, I never would have become the youngest chief healer.
"The tea you brew is still the best, Bishop."
"It's my only real pride."
"Only? Now that's just not true."
He was currently responsible for the church in the small city of Palmore, but in his younger days he had been a fearsome Inquisitor with a notorious reputation. Even though he was smiling warmly like this, I never knew when that face might change and reveal the Inquisitor beneath. The Inquisitor division only accepted the church's most elite talents. For someone with that kind of past to claim his only pride was his tea-making skills was absurd. He was just being modest.
We drank tea and chatted about this and that, and before I knew it, quite a bit of time had passed.
"Could you please just tell me already? The longer you stay quiet, the more nervous I get."
He had something difficult to say, so of course he was dragging it out. I figured it would be better to just take the blow first.
"Haha, you noticed?"
"What is it?"
"An official notice arrived from the church headquarters."
"An official notice? Don't tell me I have to go somewhere again?"
"That's right."
I don't know why my ominous hunches are never wrong.
I accepted the document from the bishop and read it carefully.
"...Labyrinth priest support?"
The largest words on the page were ominous from the very first glance.
"You remember the big uproar that happened in the Holy Empire recently, don't you?"
"Yes, I'm aware. It was because an oracle was delivered."
It was something no clergyman could possibly not know.
"Exactly. If you've studied history, you'll understand what it means for the Labyrinth to open. And how dangerous a Labyrinth that has reopened after three hundred years will be."
The Labyrinth. The document the bishop handed me was a call for priests to volunteer to go there.
"Please don't tell me I have to be one of them."
"Tsk!"
I'd tried to get the first word in with my bad feeling, but it was pointless.
"I'll take on almost any dirty work without complaint, but I cannot agree to going to the Labyrinth. It's dangerous there!"
"I have no intention of forcing you. I simply thought it would be a good opportunity and decided to suggest it. And while no mandatory order has come down from above yet, there's talk that they'll soon change the priests' training requirements to include a journey to the Labyrinth."
"......"
What the bishop was really saying was this: Do you want to be dragged there against your will, or go of your own accord? Either way, the destination remained the same.
"You said you weren't going to force me."
"Of course not. If you end up going later, that wouldn't be me forcing you, now would it?"
"Is there any benefit to volunteering?"
"They said it would cut the training period in half."
Priests undertook training not only to cultivate their divine power but also to accumulate training points. If someone planned never to advance in rank, they could scrape by without filling the quota, but anyone who wanted promotion had to complete it.
"Cut in half? Then quite a few healers would volunteer, wouldn't they?"
Even I felt tempted right now, so the others must be even more so.
"Well, no one knows how strong the monsters inside the Labyrinth have grown over these three hundred years. I doubt many priests will step forward willingly. Healers capable of overcoming that kind of fear are rare, after all."
The Labyrinth. In this world, there exists a Labyrinth that cannot be entered. Or rather, there used to be one. The reason I said "there used to be" is because its doors closed three hundred years ago. Adventurers now recorded as heroes in history supposedly struggled to close those doors. After tremendous hardship, they succeeded, and the world was able to reclaim peace.
It would be more accurate to say they sealed it rather than simply closed it.
Though it's history from three hundred years ago, the moment was so critical that it would decide whether the world survived or perished. History books therefore emphasized the Labyrinth's dangers repeatedly. Of course, many records have been lost, so there is far more that we don't know than what we do.
In any case, it was said that the Labyrinth had to be closed. If it wasn't conquered, monsters would pour out and cause massive casualties.
Inside the Labyrinth, monsters that threaten humanity swarm in droves, along with countless traps. Yet if one overcomes those adversities, they can receive tremendous rewards.
An oracle had descended announcing that such a Labyrinth would reopen after three hundred years. There was chaos because so little was known about why the sealed Labyrinth's doors were opening again, or how to respond when it did.
"The seal was imperfect. They said it would inevitably open again with time, and unfortunately that time has come during our generation."
"If we'd known earlier, we could have prepared in advance. What a shame."
If we'd known, we would have raised warriors to conquer the Labyrinth, wouldn't we? The bishop simply smiled and offered no answer to my question. Truthfully I already knew the answer, so I hadn't really been seeking one.
People wrapped up in the joy of barely managing to close the Labyrinth and survive wouldn't have wanted to think about ominous future events. They probably hid the future in which the seal would break and lost themselves in the sweet taste of victory. Over time, it was simply forgotten.
...Do I really have to be the one who goes?
The bishop continued sipping his tea with that same kindly smile. He knew I was turning the matter over and over in my head.
It wasn't an easy decision. If he'd simply ordered me to go to the Labyrinth, I could have complained and still obeyed. But the bishop showed no sign of forcing me, as if the very idea was beneath him.
"Sigh. It would be less unfair if you'd at least threaten me to go."
"Oh dear, training is something one must decide and carry out for oneself. You're not a child anymore."
"......"
When I was young you threatened me into going, but now that I'm grown you make me choose this cruel option myself.
"You may think it over as much as you like until I have to send a reply to the notice. There's no need to decide immediately."
"Understood. I'll consider it carefully."
"Good."
I didn't leave right away. I neatly finished every snack the bishop had offered before stepping out of the room. I still had work to do today, but I doubted I'd be able to focus at all.
"Priest Arthur, is something the matter? You've been making quite a few mistakes today. If you're not feeling well, you should go rest."
Only after hearing my fellow priest's words did I snap back to my senses.
"I'm sorry. I have something on my mind, so I couldn't concentrate properly on my work."
"Something to worry about?"
This priest had already said he had no further interest in advancing, so he didn't need to concern himself with training matters. He probably wouldn't see the Labyrinth issue as a serious problem even if he heard about it.
"I'll focus on my duties now."
Palmore might be in the countryside, but plenty of patients came to the clinic. Residents from all the nearby small cities came here for treatment. After dealing with patients all day I was completely drained, and having to decide whether or not to go to the Labyrinth for training left my head pounding by nightfall.
I should drink some holy water.
Holy water wasn't the miraculous substance novels made it out to be. It was typically used for exorcism rites or when baptizing believers. It wasn't anything special, but it wasn't completely ineffective plain water, either.
Drinking holy water has a refreshing effect that clears the mind.
It would be perfect for someone like me right now, whose thoughts refused to settle.
"Sorry to bother you so late. Do you have any spare holy water?"
"Yes. Would you like some?"
"Please. I think I need it."
I accepted the finger-sized vial and drank it down. As the cool holy water slid down my throat, the throbbing headache began to ease.
"This is the bishop's handiwork, isn't it?"
"How could you tell?"
"The holy water the bishop makes tastes slightly different from the rest."
"That's impossible. I believe you're the only one, Priest Arthur, who can taste holy water and identify who made it."
Since it was water infused with divine power, it ultimately tasted like ordinary water when drunk. The reason I could distinguish it was because I could sense the divine power dwelling inside.
"It's definitely the bishop's holy water. I feel wide awake now. Thank you."
They could have brought any holy water, but they must have deliberately fetched the bishop's special batch for my sake. If I didn't express gratitude for such consideration, I'd be no better than an animal.
"I only want you to stay healthy, Priest Arthur. After all, you're the most skilled healer in our church."
"Haha, thank you."
Receiving such warm consideration made thoughts of what lay ahead rise up, and I began to feel miserable.
I have to leave this comfortable place and go to the Labyrinth?
I really, really don't want to go.
Should I just give up on advancing altogether?
But that would make everything I'd worked for until now feel too wasted. The position of youngest chief healer was an incredibly honorable one.
Is my life supposed to end as a chief healer? Did I endure all that suffering as a child, earning my healer qualifications the hard way, just to stop here?
When I thought about the hardships of my childhood, having to go to the Labyrinth might not seem so terrible.
There's far too little information about the Labyrinth.
To decide whether to go or not, I needed to learn what kind of place it actually was.
"Do you know how late the library stays open?"
"Probably until nine. Are you heading there?"
"Yes. There's a book I need to check."
Even in this small village, the existence of both a clinic and a library was entirely thanks to the bishop. The library he had built by spending his own money had been an enormous help not only to the surrounding villagers but to me as well.
"I don't know what you're worrying about, but I'm sure you'll find a good solution. I'll pray for you tonight, Priest Arthur."
"Thank you."
Of course, since it had been built with only personal funds, the collection was modest in scale. Still, if I looked up information on the Labyrinth, I might be able to gather at least a few details. Anything was better than doing nothing at all.
It looked like tonight was going to be a very long night indeed.