Nil the Herbalist
There was no way he would turn his back on a patient who was desperately asking for help.
He would probably do everything he could to treat Doris properly.
“I heard only a priest can work miracles. If that’s true, can a chief priest do it too? No, I’m not saying I don’t trust him. I’m just a little uneasy, that’s all.”
Isolde seemed reluctant.
It was a rather rude thing to say, but Lawrence could understand her feelings to some extent.
She lived in Remington too.
If most of the villagers were hostile to the Church, as the blacksmith’s shop had suggested, then contact with the monastery would naturally feel uncomfortable.
“Priests have ranks as well. A chief priest is the highest rank among them. He stands just below a bishop who can perform miracles.”
Ordinarily, one began as an acolyte, then became a full priest, and from there rose to chief priest.
He knew the formal name was something like the ecclesiastical hierarchy, but there was no need to explain the finer points.
“So he’s an important man?”
“Rank aside, he’s someone you can trust and rely on.”
Isolde looked at Doris.
Like her elder sister, the younger girl was watching carefully, trying to read the mood.
“Is it a problem to accept help from the Church?”
“Hmm... Sorry. I know it’s not really my place to say that after bringing you all the way to my house. But our village has deep-seated resentment toward the Church. That’s why we’ve insisted on herbal treatment until now.”
Looking embarrassed, she trailed off.
So that was it. The issue wasn’t the help itself, but what would happen afterward.
The hostility he had felt at the smithy was more intense than he had imagined.
Spirit faith. As Ignatius had said, the villagers did not welcome the clergy of the Church.
In an atmosphere like this, contact with the Church would be uncomfortable in many ways.
If one became ostracized inside a village community, it was safe to say there would be no place left to stand.
More than anything, because she worked as a mercenary, Doris would be left alone at home whenever Isolde took on a request.
No one knew what might happen.
“I understand what you’re saying. I’ll speak to the chief priest about your sister’s condition. If he can identify the illness from the symptoms alone, he may be able to prepare medicine, and there might be some improvement compared to what she’s taking now. But the cost of any medicine will have to be paid by Isolde.”
“I’m not so shameless that I can’t handle that. No matter how much the medicine costs, if it can make Doris better, of course I’ll pay.”
“Good. And from now on, it would be better to meet at the mercenary guild rather than at your house. If Church people start coming and going too often, rumors will start spreading, and not the good kind.”
For now, it was best to think through the bare minimum of safeguards.
Even just to avoid disturbing the peace the sisters had managed to preserve all this time, that much was necessary.
“Of course, I won’t do this for free.”
“Eh?”
A strangled croak escaped her throat.
Isolde made a strange face, as if this had never occurred to her.
“I should get something in return as well, shouldn’t I?”
“W-well... That’s true. Fine. What do you want? As long as it’s not an unreasonable request, I’ll do my best to accommodate you.”
“It isn’t difficult. If you happen to know anyone nearby who knows the swamp well, I’d appreciate an introduction.”
“The swamp? I know it pretty well myself. Is this about something you’re curious about again?”
“No, not exactly... I need a guide who can accompany me into the depths during the rainy season.”
For an instant, her face brightened — then, after hearing the words “the depths of the swamp,” she frowned.
“Just in case, let me ask. Are you thinking of going after an Eligator? If so, I think moving with Balik wouldn’t be a bad idea.”
“I’d hunt one if we happened to run into it on the way, but that isn’t my goal.”
“Figures. Then let me rephrase the question. Even the swamp’s depths have layers, you know. How far in do you need this guide to go?”
Lawrence rested his chin on his hand.
Should he tell her everything? The hesitation lasted only a moment.
If he didn’t tell the truth, finding a guide would be pointless anyway.
“...The deepest part of the swamp. The Bugbear’s nest.”
“You’re insane.”
Isolde spoke with open disbelief.
“I don’t know what you’re thinking, trying to go that far in, but no amount of money will get some reckless guide to lead you all the way to a Bugbear’s nest.”
“It’s that bad?”
“Money isn’t the issue. You need to stay alive before you can even use money. I’m telling you this because it sounds like you really don’t understand. A while ago, the lord once dragged soldiers deep into the swamp to exterminate a Bugbear. What do you think happened to that force?”
“...They failed. That’s why the Bugbear’s nest is still there in the depths.”
At Lawrence’s answer, she nodded.
“Exactly. And not just a failure, either. It was a catastrophic failure. They didn’t even make it to the depths — they had to turn back from the center. And the Bugbear isn’t even the only problem. I told you already: the most dangerous thing in the swamp is the water. In the rainy season, there’s practically no place where you can’t find it. There are more than a few spots where one bad step means saying goodbye to this world. Who’d want to go somewhere like that unless they had a death wish?”
“So there’s no one around you who’d be willing to act as a guide, then. Understood. I’ll look for someone else.”
“You really... Even after I’ve said all this, you’re still going? I’m telling you, going to a Bugbear’s nest is madness.”
“If I can’t find a guide, I’ll go by myself.”
There was no choice called giving up.
He had made a promise to Acheron. To obtain the Key of the Spirit World, he needed to find the Lost Sanctuary, where a rift to the Spirit World might still remain.
There had never been any room for compromise from the start.
Seeing his unshaken gaze, she let out a sigh.
“There is one person who might guide you.”
“Who is it?”
“Strictly speaking, he’s the only one. The lord’s soldiers I mentioned earlier were guided by him too. So if he says no, you should just give up cleanly.”
Isolde stroked Doris’s hair as she spoke.
“Old Man Neil. He’s the finest herb gatherer in our village. He can move alone to and from the swamp’s depths, and he has the entire swamp mapped out in his head.”
Old Man Neil.
The name was familiar to Lawrence as well.
It was the very first day he had come to Ulbazar Swamp.
The very man who had guided him to Remington Village.
“I’ll at least ask him. But don’t get your hopes up.”
＊ ＊ ＊
“It appears to be one of the endemic illnesses of the swamp.”
After hearing about Doris’s symptoms, Ignatius spoke.
“An endemic illness?”
“You may think of it as a rare disease found only in a specific region. It usually affects people visiting Ulbazar Swamp for the first time. The villagers of Remington tend to come down with it in childhood and then recover, much like a fever. However, the young lady you mentioned seems, unusually, to have continued suffering from the symptoms until now. It is rare, but not unheard of.”
“If there’s precedent... then there’s also hope for treatment.”
“Yes. I cannot promise certainty, but I do believe I can suggest a treatment that may be effective. It seems there may be a scar of some kind left deep within the head, one that ordinary herbs cannot simply remove. If we can treat the fever at its source, I believe the headaches may ease as well.”
Lawrence’s expression brightened.
It seemed he could bring good news back to Isolde after all.
“However, since it is currently the dry season, acquiring the necessary herbs may prove difficult.”
“I’ll look into the herbs myself. I do have to meet a herb gatherer about the guide matter. From now on, I was planning to move with him for a while.”
At least, Old Man Neil.
He had received Neil’s introduction, but the persuasion itself would be entirely up to him.
Even when they had first met, Lawrence had keenly felt the man’s resentment toward the Church.
It would probably be difficult to expect a positive answer if he went to see him as things stood.
Fortunately, there was still some time before the rainy season.
He would devote as much time as possible to persuasion, and if that still failed, it might be wiser to gather information about the swamp as a backup plan.
Since Neil was said to be the village’s best herb gatherer and guide, there was surely plenty of swamp knowledge known only to him.
With that knowledge as support, Lawrence would have to reach the deepest part of the swamp even if he ended up setting out alone in the worst-case scenario.
“Understood. I’ll try to find the herbs first, and if I still can’t get them, I’ll ask you then. And I’m very sorry to say this, but the cost might be a little burdensome.”
“Didn’t you say it’s a difficult time to gather herbs? Then rising prices can’t be helped.”
Isolde was likely already prepared for that.
As long as it wasn’t exorbitant, she probably wouldn’t hesitate to open her purse.
“If you ever get a fever or notice anything strange with your body, you must not keep it to yourself.”
“Unless it’s just sore muscles, I’m not really hurting anywhere right now.”
He could remember being bitten by insects and feeling itchy or overheated, yes.
But if she was asking whether those had progressed into actual illness, the answer was no. Everything had faded within a few days, and now only the bite marks remained.
“If it all passes safely, there’s nothing better. But endemic illnesses have incubation periods. It wouldn’t be strange if yours were ending around now. This is not something to dismiss lightly. If a fever turns severe, some people can even die from it.”
“Come to think of it, that really is a frightening disease.”
It wasn’t something to laugh off.
Now he understood why the sisters had suffered from an endemic illness for so long.
Then, suddenly, a memory came to him when he heard the word fever.
“Thinking back, when I was little I caught a plague and nearly died. Could my body’s condition now be related to that somehow?”
“Hmm... I wouldn’t say it has nothing to do with it. It may be that the plague kept the swamp’s illness from penetrating too deeply. If that’s the case, you might have some degree of resistance to fevers.”
“How ironic. Because I got sick with a plague, I ended up with a body that doesn’t get sick easily...”
He wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry.
For better or worse, the plague that had swept through Hilton Village had drastically altered Lawrence’s life.
It had also been the starting point of his awakening to the Spirit World and his ability to use magic.
“Only the goddess knows the will of heaven. We, her servants, can only glimpse the revelations hidden in the stars of the night sky.”
With his hands folded together, Ignatius whispered softly.
“May the goddess’s blessing be with you.”
＊ ＊ ＊
The next day, Lawrence headed for Remington Village early in the morning.
He passed the gatekeeper, who barely seemed to notice him, and entered the quiet streets.
There were only a few passersby on the road.
Without meeting their eyes, he knocked on the door of the mercenary guild.
As promised, Isolde was waiting for him inside.
“You came quickly.”
“It’s that important to me.”
She looked solemn, as if no other explanation was necessary.
So he got straight to the point.
Lawrence was not the sort to drag matters like this out.
“I heard something encouraging about Doris’s condition. Apparently there was a patient in the past with similar symptoms. They said they would prepare the medicine that had been prescribed then.”
“Really? Then if she takes that medicine, she can get better?”
“I can’t say that for certain. The chief priest hasn’t examined Doris personally, after all. But he is not the sort to speak lightly. I’m sure it will be effective.”
Lawrence showed her the necessary herbs.
The list of medicinal plants Ignatius had written on the wooden tablet was nearly twenty items long.
A faint groan escaped Isolde’s lips as her half-lidded eyes scanned it.
“Sorry. I can’t read.”
“I’ll read them for you.”
Even Lawrence didn’t know many of the herbs.
In the boy’s memory, orel was the only herb he recognized.
The number of unfamiliar names left him impressed.
“They’re all swamp herbs. If I ask Old Man Neil, we should be able to get them somehow.”
The saving grace was that every time he read off one of the herbs aloud, Isolde nodded as if she recognized it.
“...And lastly, Tyrei.”
“Wait. What was that?”
“It says one root of Tyrei.”
“……”
When she confirmed the name again, her expression grew serious.
“Is Tyrei hard to find?”
“No. It is a swamp herb, that much is true. But the problem is where it grows. It’s a precious herb that only grows in limited places.”
Isolde let out a sigh, as if things had somehow gone smoothly up until now and this was the inevitable catch.
“Didn’t you say Neil can travel to and from the swamp’s depths? If we’re getting herbs through him, I think it’s best to ask him for this too.”
“I told you before, didn’t I? Even within the swamp’s depths, dangerous areas are divided into levels. Tyrei is... a fantasy herb you can only find in the most dangerous regions of all.”
Fantasy herb.
If it had earned a nickname like that, its medicinal value had to be certain, didn’t it?
“They say even a handful will make you a person who never feels heat again. There’s even a legend that the ancestors of Ulbaniero’s people ate Tyrei and became warriors of the swamp.”
“If that legend is true, it would probably help with Doris’s illness too.”
“Of course it would. But be reasonable. How are we supposed to get Tyrei? Forget the money — there isn’t even any on the market. Could you just go back and ask if he might have confused it with another herb?”
“The chief priest wouldn’t make a mistake like that.”
“I know that. I’m just frustrated.”
She ruffled her hair irritably.
“Tyrei is a no-go. I’ll get the other herbs ready first.”
“There are quite a few herbs needed.”
“Doesn’t matter. If I don’t have enough money, I’ll just make more.”
The answer came without the slightest hesitation.
“Is that so? You seem a little different today.”
“A person can do anything for family. Why would I be any different? You’re the same, aren’t you?”
“Well. I don’t really have anyone I can call family anymore.”
Lawrence thought of the friends he had buried deep in his heart.
The children who had run through the alleyways with him were all gone now; not one had remained by his side.
“Ah... Sorry. That was cruel of me. Forgive me.”
“It’s fine. You don’t have to worry about it.”
The days when he had grieved over his friends’ deaths were long behind him.
Now he simply had to keep walking forward.
For the friends who had gone ahead of him.
For the friends who lived with him in his heart.
It was all the resolve Lawrence had to carry.
Yes. He was wasting time by drowning in sorrow.
He would keep the endless sky in his eyes, and move toward the unknown scenery he had not yet seen.
The world was beautiful, and dazzling, after all.
“Let’s move on to the next matter. What about the arrangement?”
“I’ve already told Old Man Neil. He said to meet in front of the village after sunrise.”
“You’re heading out to the swamp earlier than I expected.”
“It’s hard to find herbs at night. Besides, the insects get even worse and it’s a pain. Even if it’s a little hot, it’s probably more comfortable to move during the day.”
Thinking about it, that made sense too.
When he had met Neil before, it had been around midday, with the sun high overhead.
Apparently herb gatherers lived by a different rhythm than the villagers, who mostly moved around at night.
“And if you can help it, don’t bring up the Church. Old Man Neil is a very devout man. He still offers sacrifices to the spirit every single day. Honestly, if not for my request, he wouldn’t have agreed to help with this at all.”
“It’s not exactly a topic I was planning to bring up first.”
“You never know. Once you start talking, it might slip out before you realize it.”
He had already sensed during their first meeting just how deeply rooted the resentment toward the Church was.
Neil would already know Lawrence was a pilgrim, so it wouldn’t be wrong to say he had started off on the wrong foot.
“He isn’t the sort of man who can’t communicate at all. Before he speaks of spirits or the Church, he understands that human life comes first.”
“It’s fortunate, in a bad sort of way, that there’s room to persuade him.”
“Yeah. If he’d really hated the idea, he would’ve rejected my proposal outright.”
“So it comes down to how it’s done...”
Lawrence rested a hand against his chin.
How nice it would be if this were the kind of thing that could be solved with a simple request.
He knew very well that it wouldn’t be so easy.
Still, what else could he do?
The thirsty dig their own wells.
To go into the swamp’s depths, he needed Neil’s help.