Divine Headaches and Deadly Traps

My head felt like it was going to split open. As much as I wanted to complain about the pain, I couldn’t after receiving a grace that others would kill to obtain. But it really does hurt. On top of that, the back of my head was numb and tingling, as if ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠someone had struck me from behind while I slept. Surely the Sun God wouldn’t have knocked me out by hitting the back of my head just to make me fall asleep faster. …Though I do have my suspicions.

The moment I woke from the dream, I bolted upright. Whether from the headache or not, when I pressed a hand to my forehead I felt a worrying heat radiating from it.

“Ugh, my head.”

When the pain had felt like my skull was cracking, I had resented it. But once I woke and examined the fresh knowledge now settled inside my mind, every trace of resentment melted away.

The knowledge given last time had concerned treatment methods for patients at the temple clinic. This time, the Sun God had bestowed ways for a priest to take a more active ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠role in various aspects inside the labyrinth.

Thank you.

The content seemed like something combat priests would learn, so it caught me off guard at first. Still, it was exactly the knowledge I needed right now. It had felt awkward simply standing by during fights; with this, I could confidently say I had done my part in battle.

“You’re up early, Father.”

“Yes. Did you sleep ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠well?”

Because I always rose early for morning prayers, I naturally woke at the same hour even inside the labyrinth. Besides, the knowledge newly implanted in my mind had made it impossible to sleep soundly.

I would need to organize my thoughts while praying and perhaps offer a few complaints to the Sun God.

“Are you going to pray?”

“Yes.”

It was impossible to wash properly inside the labyrinth, so I made do with wiping my face and limbs using a towel dampened with water. At least I brushed my teeth thoroughly before busily preparing a makeshift prayer space.

If I were praying alone I would simply clasp my hands, but I set up the prayer room for any potential followers of the Sun God who might wish to join.

Unless they’re truly devout, most people will pray if it’s there and skip it if it isn’t.

That was why I had deliberately placed it somewhere noticeable. As I said, they could pray if they wanted. Forcing faith on others had never been my style. Guiding people so that belief could naturally seep into their daily lives was, to me, the ideal form of encouragement.

After all, people remove their coats not because of a strong wind but because of a warm sun.

“Father, may I pray with you?”

“You’re welcome anytime. Please, come join me.”

Naturally, people who wished to pray gathered around me. Those who woke early prayed together with me, while late risers quietly appeared one by one, used the makeshift prayer room, and slipped away again.

Just as I thought—creating the right environment is far better than forcing anything.

After eating breakfast with a satisfied smile, I went to see Princess Reciel. She welcomed my visit warmly.

“Did you sleep well last night?”

“Yes. Did Your Highness sleep well too?”

“Not as well as I would have liked. It’s something I must get used to, so it can’t be helped.”

A princess who had grown up in comfort found the same sleeping conditions uncomfortable even I had struggled with; of course she couldn’t adapt right away. Yet Princess Reciel did not hide her discomfort and instead showed firm determination that she would grow accustomed to it.

“You didn’t step forward on the first day. May I ask why?”

“It wasn’t easy to gather people I could truly trust. I wasn’t confident they would fight well. I couldn’t allow my team to become nothing but strong fools.”

In other words, she had deliberately stayed back because her participation would have ended the fight before her companions even had a chance to coordinate.

“Last night I received knowledge from Him that should prove helpful in battle.”

“…A revelation?”

It was common knowledge that gods delivered prophecies to priests through dreams.

“It wasn’t a prophecy. He granted me knowledge that will aid us in combat inside the labyrinth.”

The fact that the god had bestowed such a gift also meant He was watching over and supporting the future of this party. If not…

Perhaps our party’s future is so incredibly perilous that this was given as compensation.

Still, I kept such negative thoughts to myself. After years of working as a priest, I knew there was nothing to gain from speaking discouraging words to people.

People visited the temple because they wanted to hear positive messages.

They already know reality is difficult. They come seeking comfort because they see no clear way out.

How terrible would it feel to receive grim words at the very place they had come to find hope? I believed it was better for believers to leave the temple with some comfort in their hearts—even if it meant gently turning a blind eye to harsh reality—than to send them away burdened by unpleasant truths.

Princess Reciel, too, would not want the vague path to saving Princess Canaby pointed out so bluntly.

“Knowing the god is watching over us makes me feel much better.”

“It’s fortunate that I’ll now be able to contribute in battle as well.”

“At this rate, we may be able to wake my sister sooner than expected.”

Princess Reciel’s eyes sparkled with hope. The situation was daunting—they had to wander the labyrinth until they passed through the snowy region and reached another area—yet she showed no doubt that she would succeed.

By the nineteenth day since entering the labyrinth, our overall mood was remarkably positive. The main reason was that the team members Princess Reciel had brought proved far more skilled than expected.

It would be a lie to say we had never faced danger against the monsters, but we had never encountered a crisis so severe it felt truly life-threatening. I didn’t want to boast that it was entirely thanks to my buffs.

They were simply skilled.

Our team was satisfied with one another’s abilities to the point that I believed we had a realistic chance of resolving Princess Canaby’s curse. Of course, when many people lived together, some friction was inevitable. Yet I judged that these minor clashes would naturally resolve themselves with time.

I’m not sure why they keep coming to me asking me to mediate, though.

It was probably because I was a priest. At first I had simply accepted their requests and helped settle disputes, but after it happened several times, it became natural for people to seek me out whenever conflict arose among the group.

If there had been no benefit to me, I might have grown tired of it and started handling matters half-heartedly. But as I watched the wariness directed toward me gradually disappear, I could only do my best.

At this point it’s almost too good to be true, which is its own problem.

Everywhere I went, people called out “Father, Father,” and their attitude had changed so completely from our first meeting that it felt awkward.

If they like me that much, what can I do? I have to accept it.

The more influence I gained here, the easier treatment would become and the more conveniences I would receive in daily life. There was nothing to dislike about it.

Thus the nineteenth day passed uneventfully, and the twentieth day dawned inside the labyrinth.

If someone dies inside a trap, there is nothing even I can do.

What could possibly be done when the person themselves is caught by a trap and transported somewhere else? And even if it wasn’t a teleportation trap, what if they fell onto a floor studded with massive spikes coated in lethal poison?

How could I save someone whose body had been pierced through?

No matter how capable I was, reviving someone who had died instantly was impossible. Especially here, where I was the only priest.

“It seems we took the wrong path. This area appears to be packed with far more traps than monsters. I’m sorry.”

The guide belatedly confessed his mistake, but the situation could not be reversed once victims had already appeared—four of them, no less.

“We cannot turn back like this. We must go find them.”

“Can’t we at least search for those who fell downward?”

“The place is riddled with traps! Even if we search now, they’re probably already dead!”

Opinions split between those who wanted to search and those who saw no point in attempting a rescue when the missing were almost certainly dead. After discussion, both the leader and Princess Reciel reached the same conclusion: they would move to rescue the missing persons.

What surprised me was that both of them held the same opinion.

They aren’t without a sense of duty.

Even those who had opposed the search did not seem displeased by Princess Reciel’s responsible decision. Probably because anyone could become the next person to go missing—whether dead or alive.

Since the leadership had decided to search and everyone had agreed, our party scoured the trap-infested area as though excavating it, looking for the path leading downward.