Chapter 2: The Labyrinth and the Valkyries

01 — The Price of a Healer

Five days of carriage and countryside had passed during our journey to the center of the Republic of Saint Shurule. At last, the Holy City of Shurule came into view. Nanaella and those back in Merratoni had told me the trip normally took two, maybe three days. Our trip had taken twice as long, but we had good reason for it. Just after our departure, Bazan had given me a couple of options.

“We can make a break for it through monsters and bandits, and rough it outdoors, or we can take the long way, travel only by day, and stop over at each village. Pick your poison.”

One guess as to which one I chose.

Obviously, we couldn’t avoid every single monster, but Team Bazan took care of the ones we did encounter faster than I could process my fear of them.

Truthfully, I’d hoped to do a bit of level-leeching on the way, but good old reality was never on my side. So there I was, still at level one. I could only assume that meant being in the same place as a battle wasn’t enough to earn experience points. At least the Lineage of the White Wolf gave me some good combat examples along the way, though. They were like water, a vortex of cooperation that seemed to draw each enemy down into the depths of its own demise. The adventurers were just that well-coordinated. I made a mental note to keep them in mind if I ever needed security for my future clinic.

Bazan was right to nudge me towards choosing the detour. Having a warm bed and food was a nice luxury. The villages were a far cry from Merratoni, though. To call them “organized” would be a drastic overstatement. There were no healing offices to speak of, not a single clinic to be found, so all it took was a little healing magic to earn us room and board. I would borrow a room of the local mayor’s house, get to work, be subjected to exorbitant amounts of gratitude, and then boom, suddenly there was a banquet going on in my honor.

This scene played out at every village we stopped at. Whether it was right to let them fawn over us or not, I couldn’t say, but I was glad to have the power to help others. That I was sure of.

My personal alcohol ban remained in effect, and Bazan and his lot were officially on the job, so our hosts made up for our lack of interest in booze with mountains of delicious food. I remembered the intense awkwardness I felt as the townspeople continued to come up during the party and shower me with thanks. Some were downright reverent, but I told them all the same thing with my best business smile.

“You’ve paid me back well enough with all this amazing food and a soft bed. Consider us even.”

At that, they would bow their heads and proceed to thank me yet again. Bazan and the boys got a kick out of seeing me so flustered.

On and on, the pattern repeated at each village along the way. I healed those who needed it with Holy Magic, and they gave us food and beds in return. As a result, we had a smooth journey and made it to our destination with no drama to speak of.

“That’s Saint Shurule’s Holy City? And that shimmering castle’s the Healer’s Guild Headquarters?”

The gaudy, crystalline palace didn’t help my less-than-stellar impressions of the guild. I could feel myself dreading this new post more and more.

“That’s the place,” Bazan replied grimly, staring at the building. “Guild HQ. Run by the Church themselves.”

Maybe there’d been a time when everyone had peacefully coexisted, but it was clear from his tone that, at present, adventurers and commoners shared my trepidation about the healers’ organization.

“By the Church themselves...” I echoed softly. “You know, ‘the Republic of Saint Shurule’s Holy City of Saint Shurule’ is a bit of a mouthful. Why do they use ‘Shurule’ so much?”

“Quiet, Luciel. That’s taboo. The ruler who founded the country, the pope, had his reasons. People don’t take kindly to ignorance ’round here,” Sekiros warned.

He was referring to Lord Reinstar, I assumed. I had to be careful or one innocuous slip of the tongue would get me into trouble. Think I’ll take that warning to heart. Not knowing something that was considered common knowledge in a world where most people were barely literate wouldn’t be a good thing...

We approached a gate, where a sentry asked for entry papers. I handed him the writ I had received from the pope.

“My apologies for the delay. If you’ll allow me, I’ll see you to Church Headquarters in place of these beastmen, Sir Luciel.”

“That won’t be necessary. We know the way,” I replied firmly with a smile. Eat that, human supremacist.

We continued onwards into the city.

“You sure, Luciel?” Bazan asked, concerned.

“Sure about what?”

“Never mind.”

I hadn’t felt the racial biases so much in Merratoni, but I now found myself frustrated by how little I could do against it.

On our way to HQ, I spotted a familiar sight: an Adventurer’s Guild.

“Oh, I’m almost out of Substance X.”

“Right, you just had that barrel of ten days’ worth, yeah? Wanna stock up?” Basura asked.

“I think that’s a good idea. And you guys can report in for your job. It works out for everyone.”

“Yeah, sure, now what’s the real reason?”

“I want you to go with me so I don’t get picked on.”

He cackled. “You’re a funny guy, y’know that? Go on, Bazan, help the poor boy out.”

“We’ll wait here,” Sekiros added.

“Fine,” Bazan snapped.

We headed for the guildhall together.

“Have you been to this branch before?”

“Once or twice. The guildmaster here’s a bit of a nutjob in his own way, so I figure you’ll forget this is the Holy City pretty damn fast.”

“I’ll make this my hideout if the Church lets me.”

“Not a bad idea,” he chuckled as he pushed open the doors.

No matter the Adventurer’s Guild branch, it was, apparently, par for the course for every single person in the room to lock eyes with you the moment you stepped inside. Bazan didn’t hesitate. He made straight for the receptionist—er...dining hall?

I followed after him. “It feels exactly the same.” The interior, the layout, almost everything was a perfect copy of Merratoni’s guild.

“The guildmaster here?” Bazan called out.

“Welcome. Can I take your order?” As if purposefully aiming to contradict me, the one difference from Merratoni, a young waitress, greeted us pleasantly. It was well past noon, but several adventurers were still sitting around eating.

“Nah, isn’t the guildmaster usually in the kitchen?”

“Yes, he is. Can I ask who you are?” she asked with a suspicious glare.

“Bazan, with the A-rank party Lineage of the White Wolf. I came to introduce Luciel here to the boss.”

The woman’s expression softened. “I understand. I’ll go get him, if you don’t mind waiting a moment.”

After watching her disappear into the back, Bazan turned to me. “Don’t judge a book by its cover, Luciel. That waitress just now? She could probably put up a better fight than even me.”

“Uh, what?” I gaped. In a world with levels and stats, sure, judging by appearance alone wasn’t wise, but stronger than Bazan? An A-ranker? “I’ll make it a point to stay on her good side.”

“Sound idea.” Bazan smirked as the waitress returned with an elderly and short yet muscular man—the very image of a fantasy dwarf.

“I was wonderin’ who the jackass was. Good ta see ya again, Bazan.”

“Likewise. I’ve got someone you should meet.”

“You? Introducin’ a human? Whadda they call you, kid?”

“Oh, um, Luciel,” I replied. “I’m a healer.”

“A healer? With them muscles?” the stout man retorted dubiously.

“Yes, sir.” I felt those familiar, invisible daggers shooting into me from all around the room.

“Bazan, is this...”

“He’s got a few nicknames,” Bazan explained. “Would it clear things up if I told you he’s from Merratoni?”

“I knew it. He’s Brod’s apprentice, ain’t he?” I nodded and the guildmaster’s eyes relaxed, much to my relief. “Well, I sure as hell hope ya didn’t drag my ass out for a couple of pleasantries.”

“We didn’t. Luciel, I’m headin’ to reception to take care of some things. Do what you need to.”

“Uh, sure. Thanks for the help,” I replied as Bazan left the mess, still smirking to himself.

The guildmaster looked at me expectantly. “So?”

“Right. Let me introduce myself properly. My name is Luciel, adventurer and healer. I came to stock up on a keg of undiluted Substance X.”

The entire mess went deathly silent. The eyes piercing me widened in shock before turning away.

“Um... Could you...repeat that order, please?” asked the waitress, speaking up in place of her boss.

“Of course. I’d like a large keg of undiluted Substance X.”

The guildmaster quickly went into the back, then returned with a mug and clunked it onto the table. “Drink.”

“Is this a test?”

“Sure is. I don’t give the substance ta folks who can’t hold it down.”

I could definitely see someone misusing the stuff, so as much as I wanted to, I didn’t argue. Brod and Gulgar had trained me well.

Down the hatch... In between gulps, I caught whispers from the gallery.

“He’s a freak.”

“His tongue’s straight broken.”

“Is that the Masochist Healer everyone’s been talking about?”

“That’s just an urban legend. And he’s supposed to be in Merratoni.”

They weren’t being very subtle. I finished off the mug, then let out a hearty sigh. “There. Will that be enough?”

“Er, yeah.” The guildmaster was trembling for some reason. “I’ll get that keg for ya.”

“Oh, I’ve always wondered... Substance X is a liquid, so do you know why it’s called a ‘substance’?”

“B-Beats me,” he stammered. “Anyway, ya got anything ta fill up?”

“I have a small barrel, but it’s still got a bit left in it. Can you provide a new one?”

“Sure, but it’ll cost ya time ’n money. A silver per keg, about.”

“In that case, I’ll just ask you to refill what I have for now. And here’s three silver in advance for a few more.” I pulled a barrel of Substance X from my magic satchel.

“Sure... Sure thing, pal...” The muscular man picked it up and took it into the back.

“Did you see that? He bought three barrels of that crap!”

“He’s a freak.”

“More like a demon.”

“Even demons wouldn’t go near that stuff. It reeks like hell!”

“I hear it’s the best monster-repellent there is, but if you waste too much, you’ll wake up with a mouthful of it.”

What is this, campfire horror story time?

“What kinda life do you gotta live to be able to keep that shit down?”

“Probably a sad one.”

The adventurers, who, at a glance, looked absurdly strong and even more well-equipped than the Merratoni group, didn’t bother to keep their voices down. One wrong look and they’d be all over me. I just knew it.

Please help me, Bazan. I’m scared...

“Here’s your...stuff.” The guildmaster came back with a sour look on his face.

“Thank you. When it runs out, I’ll be back for more if you can have those three kegs ready.”

“Will do.”

I stashed the newly filled barrel in my satchel then made my way to the door. Carefully.

“Wait, healer,” the guildmaster called out. “It true what they say? You’ll heal for a single silver?”

I turned around. “The people at the Merratoni guild were good to me. If you treat me the same, I’ll think about returning the favor.”

I left the dining hall, met up with Bazan, and made it back out unscathed.

“This place definitely isn’t Merratoni. It feels like everyone’s out to get me.”

“You owe the Whirlwind, ya know. He made sure no one was allowed to give you shit. Else they’d catch shit themselves.”

“I...had no idea.”

It seemed like every day I learned about something new that I owed my master for. I had to make it up to him. And to do that, I had to work hard and make it out of this city as soon as possible.

Bazan and his pals took me straight to the front door of Church Headquarters. “Guys, thank you for everything these past few days,” I said with a bow.

“Hey, just doin’ our jobs. Like we wouldn’t protect the guy we owe our lives to. Ain’t that right?” Basura looked at the others.

“That’s right. If you hadn’t been there for me ’n Sekiros, we’d’ve been in real trouble. Good thing too.” Bazan gave a fierce smile. “Basura can’t do jack by himself.”

“It’s true,” Sekiros agreed. “You damn sure saved us.”

“Please, it was nothing. But honestly, talking like this really drives it home for me. I’m going to be surrounded by strangers here. It’ll be lonely.” It felt like the first day after being transferred to a new office.

“We’ll be waitin’ for you back in Merratoni. You focus on hangin’ in there and making sure you work for all those spell books you got for free.”

“I’ll do that. Thank you again.”

“We’ll all have a drink next time we meet.”

I sincerely hoped that we would. Not even Brod and I had shared a beer yet. “I’ll look forward to it. It’ll be my treat.”

“Sounds good.”

“Don’t you wind up like Bottaculli, you hear?”

“Believe me, I won’t.”

We said our goodbyes and they headed off back to Merratoni.

“It’s gonna be hard starting over in a new city.”

But it was probably too early to be getting sentimental.

Right... These spellbooks. Like Basura said, I’d gotten them for free and they were likely worth a small fortune. They wouldn’t be cheap to replace, so I had to treat them carefully.

I rested a hand on my magic satchel and thought back on my recent journey. I had received seven grimoires from the Merratoni Healer’s Guild. I’d skimmed through them all and had already memorized the chants for each spell. Once, while practicing them on the road, Bazan had snapped and told me to quit the constant mumbling.

“You sound like a damn looney. If you’re gonna do that, at least speak up,” he’d said.

At the time, it had made me flinch. But now, I could look back on the incident and smile. Still, some guy standing in front of Church headquarters with a weird look on his face wasn’t going to make a great impression, so I pulled myself together and got a move on.

Wonder if I’ll get the chance to try out these new spells soon.

Enchantment Holy Magic, Aura Coat: a protective veil that insulated the user from miasma, slowed disease, and protected against status debuffs. Nine MP.

Special Cleansing Holy Magic, Purification: used for expunging curses and impurities. Tough on stains too. Sixteen MP.

Advanced Healing Magic, High Heal: ten times the effectiveness of standard Heal, at the cost of fifteen MP.

Intermediate Area-Healing Magic, Area Middle Heal: a heightened form of standard Area Heal with the same range of effect and three times the potency. Thirty MP.

Advanced Area-Healing Magic, Area High Heal: an even further heightened level of Area Heal with an expanded radius of three meters, but at the steep price of seventy-five MP.

Status Healing Magic, Recover: relieved the effects of poison, paralysis, charm, sleep, silence, and magically induced enfeeblement, but not petrification, illusion, or disease. Eighteen MP.

Special Recovery Holy Magic, Dispel: nullified the effects of petrification, curses, and illusions. Supposedly boasts additional effects as well. Fifty MP.

Neither Area High Heal nor Dispel were well documented in their respective texts, and my Holy Magic level was too low to try them out. That didn’t stop me from memorizing their respective chants, of course, so all I needed was the right skill experience. But I couldn’t use them willy-nilly. Compared to a regular old Heal, these spells were a serious drain on magic to cast and I hoped to God (whoever he or she was) that I wouldn’t have to use them.

Speaking of things I had to do, what did working at Church headquarters actually entail?

“Is this the kind of ignorance Sekiros was warning me about? Is it normal not to know what a healer does at HQ? Guess there’s no point worrying about it now.” I took a deep breath and walked towards the towering glass palace of white.

The inside wasn’t nearly as intimidating as the architecture suggested, and everyone there was human, which was, if I was to be honest, less nerve-wracking than being surrounded by beastpeople. Each step on the marble floor echoed throughout the enormous hall.

At the very center was my destination: the reception desk. Both receptionists stood when they saw me.

“Welcome to the Healer’s Guild Headquarters,” one of them said in greeting once I was close enough. “How can we help you?”

“Hi, I’m Luciel. I was a healer at the Merratoni branch, but was recently transferred here by order of the pope. Could I speak with your superior?”

“One moment, please.”

The receptionist sat back down, took out a crystal ball, and closed her eyes. I’d heard a lot about these magical items, but never had a chance to see any back in Merratoni. As my curiosity grew, the receptionist began speaking to the object.

“Maybe it’s a support item of some kind that lets you communicate telepathically,” I muttered to myself.

“That’s right. You’re well-informed, sir,” the other receptionist affirmed, having overheard me.

“Oh, no,” I replied once I’d recovered from my slight surprise. “I don’t know anything about how it works. I just saw something like it at an Adventurer’s Guild.”

“An...Adventurer’s Guild?”

Yeah, no surprise there. Adventurers and healers don’t mix, do they?

The receptionist with the crystal ball finally turned back to me. “Mister Granhart is here for you.”

I turned around to find a towering man the size of an adventurer, dressed in a flowing, white robe, walking straight towards me. He looked about forty. But how had he appeared behind me? The only thing back that way was the front door. Had he been outside?

“You are the healer they call Luciel?” he asked. “I am Granhart, a priest at this church and the one who summoned you. Follow me.”

Leaving me no time to respond, he strode to the wall behind the reception desk and placed his hand on it. For a split second, I wondered what in the world he could possibly be doing, then the stone split open, revealing a contraption that looked like some sort of elevator.

“Enter.”

I did as I was told. For the first time in two years, I felt that familiar tingling in my gut as we ascended.

“How does this work? I’ve never ridden in one of these before,” I said with a pep in my voice. Better to act like an excited kid than an ignorant fool.

“This is a magic elevator. One controls its speed and direction with their own magical energy.”

“Wow! A magic elevator? I didn’t see any other doors down there. Is this the only way in?”

“It is. The building was built this way explicitly to prevent the rabble and intruders from coming and going as they please.”

“Wow, interesting.”

Something tells me it’s to keep people from leaving too, I thought, my longing to return home increasing. I had to get back to Merratoni.

The elevator came to a stop. Granhart stepped off first and continued down the hall without waiting for me. I didn’t stand around to see if he would simply leave me behind.

The corridor was more than wide enough to fit five people shoulder-to-shoulder, and although the decor wasn’t excessively gaudy, the walls and floor glistened with a regal shine that Merratoni’s Adventurer’s Guild, or even the Healer’s Guild, could never hope to match.

“Oh? You are the one I guided to the Healer’s Guild in Merratoni, are you not? I believe your name was...Louise?”

I heard a woman’s voice address me (incorrectly). Turning, I saw a familiar face. “It’s been a long time, Miss Lumina. I never got the chance to thank you back then.”

“I did nothing to warrant it. Tell me, Louise, how have you been?”

She’d completely forgotten my name. I couldn’t blame her, considering we had only met briefly a long time before. I noticed that she was in full armor.

“I think reintroductions are in order. My name is Luciel. And I have to say, I’m impressed that you recognized me. Everyone says I’ve grown quite a bit.”

“Indeed you have, Luciel, but I could never forget such a vibrant magical pulse.”

Magical what now? Is that some sort of skill she has? Or is she, like, electromagnetic? “Well, I’m flattered that you remember me.”

“I have something I would like to discuss with you, but I know you have only just arrived. Please stop by my quarters when you can spare a moment.”

“As long as you don’t mind me intruding.”

“Not at all. Forgive me for interrupting, Granhart.”

“You are within your rights as captain of the Valkyries. There is nothing to forgive,” Granhart replied with a hint of hesitation.

“Very well. Please have someone escort him to me when you two are finished.”

The priest’s expression stiffened. “As you wish.”

“I will be waiting, Luciel.”

And with that, she left.

Granhart and I walked in complete silence until we reached a room that had no business being inside of a church. It was distinctly dimmer than anywhere I had been so far, with whips and saws of unknown purpose strewn about. It wasn’t hard to guess that this was a room for torture. I was also aware that Lumina had probably saved my hide—Granhart couldn’t try anything if she was expecting me. What I didn’t understand was why he had brought me here in the first place. Bottaculli’s scheming came to mind. But I wouldn’t get anywhere without answers, so I mustered up what little courage I had and croaked out what I could.

“This place looks like a torture chamber. Do you mind me asking why you brought me here?” I didn’t try to hide my displeasure.

“This is just a storage room,” he answered quickly, as if he’d been expecting the question. “We’re merely taking a shortcut.”

The very next room was something straight out of a TV show... The kind of place you would see investigators take suspects for interrogation. Given my exchange with Miss Lumina, I felt safe enough to follow him in.

“Have a seat,” he ordered. He took the chair opposite me and pulled out a letter. “I received this from the Merratoni branch Healer’s Guild and its contents shocked me. Evidently, you have been harming others’ profits with your healing, including the Merratoni guild itself. At least, that’s what was written here, but what I want is the truth.”

The truth, huh? I get it now. I might just make it out alive.

I closed my eyes. Two years ago, I’d been a businessman. Two years ago, I’d been on the verge of a massive promotion. I knew exactly how to flip a negotiation, and I knew the last things that any businessman wanted to hear. All I had to do was find the right words.

I opened my eyes. “You’ve already read the truth.”

“You admit your crime?” he asked, wide-eyed.

“My crime? Two years ago, I became a healer. After that, I joined the Adventurer’s Guild and used my healing as payment in exchange for training. Does that constitute a crime?”

“I suppose it does not.”

“I couldn’t use anything but Heal at the time, but they gave me food, a bed, even clothing and a salary. Does that constitute a crime?”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“For my whole first year there, that’s how things were. For my second year, I was formally employed by the guild as a dispatched healer. I learned new spells and my Holy Magic skill increased considerably. Have I broken any rules so far?”

“No, you...acted as a healer should.”

I was getting to him. “They treated me well during my first year and even better my second. I’m incredibly grateful to the Adventurer’s Guild for that.”

“You’ve made your point. I understand now that the issue does not lie in your conduct. However, the matter of your pricing—how little you charge, that is—still remains.”

“Granhart, sir, what do you think about the current state of affairs? Personally, I see nothing wrong with being compensated for using your magic to heal people. Of course it’s only fair that people be paid for their work.”

“Naturally. Healing is a profession.”

“I won’t ask who the sender of that letter was, but there’s a certain clinic in Merratoni that I’ve heard rumors about. A clinic that uses High Heal for injuries that need nothing more than a Middle Heal or even less. They charge exorbitant rates after the fact, then throw their patients into debt slavery when they can’t pay. Don’t you find that deplorable? Is that not the real issue here? Wouldn’t making prices more transparent make things easier for both the healers and their patients? It’s such an obvious solution, I have to wonder what the Healer’s Guild is really doing.”

“You have some nerve to take that tone with the Church!”

“Please don’t change the subject. I certainly don’t mean to offend; I’m genuinely asking what you think. Is my ignorance, my lack of understanding of how a healer ought to behave, not the fault of the guild’s lack of leadership?”

“You mean to question the role of the guild?”

“That’s right. I’ve read that when it was first founded, healers and patients alike were noble and benevolent, and the healers weren’t compensated with money; rather, they were freely given gifts in gratitude for their services. But things change over time, and this trade is no exception. Again, I don’t think the issue here is healers being paid monetarily.”

Granhart crossed his arms and shut his eyes. “Continue.”

“Getting to the main point, the question is, how much is magic worth? One copper? A silver? Gold? Platinum? People don’t all value money in the same way. It changes from person to person. And without the guild setting down guidelines, it’s up to individuals with different views on pricing and varying business skills to make that call. Are you with me so far?” Essentially, I was suggesting that without a system in place, prices could literally be anything.

“You’re saying we should apply a range of fees to different kinds of magic?”

“Not quite. A single Heal from someone who’s just learned it and a Heal from a veteran aren’t of the same value. The veteran would understandably charge more for better results.”

“I fail to understand what it is you’re looking for. Be concise.”

“I’m saying that the source of the problem outlined in that letter is the guild’s ambiguous rules on pricing.”

“I follow.”

“A healer needs to examine the severity of a wound and state the cost of treatment accordingly. Beforehand. That is, with the exception of emergency cases where that just isn’t possible.”

“Of course.”

“Healers work under the Church of Saint Shurule. They pay dues, are given permission to practice Holy Magic, and then they go out and do it. The guild facilitates this by selling grimoires, but do they do this for profit? Of course not, right?”

“Obviously. The funds are used for the benefit of young healers and to offset expenses.”

“Then do you see what I’m getting at? If the guild would set guidelines for pricing, patients would know exactly what they’re getting into ahead of time, and healing would become an honest, respected occupation again.” Especially seeing as the concept of insurance didn’t exist in this world.

“I see your point of view, but surely that’s all it is. A single opinion.”

Okay, mister stubborn. “All right, let me give you an example. Say you went out to eat at a place that didn’t list their prices. Based on the amount you ordered, the quality, the cost of the ingredients, you estimate it to be worth around ten copper, but you’re charged ten gold instead. What would you do?”

“I would lodge a complaint, naturally.”

“And if they tell you they use only the highest quality ingredients and threaten to sell you into slavery if you can’t immediately pay your debt? If you were even one coin short, you would be enslaved. How would that make you feel?”

“Disgusted. What gives them the...”

“Exactly,” I interjected. “What gives them the right? The entire situation could have been avoided had you only known the prices beforehand. That goes for any place of business.” Granhart was silent, so I continued. “With all due respect, I think this is the reality of clinics today. I can count on one hand the number of places that show their pricing before providing treatment.”

“Explain to me how this ‘transparent pricing’ would change things.” His tone this time wasn’t accusatory, but one of genuine curiosity. I sensed an open-mindedness from him, as if he would sincerely take my next words into consideration.

“If people knew precisely what their treatment would cost in advance, I think more of them would start going to the clinics.”

“And your basis for that is?”

“As things stand, going to a clinic is like gambling. You never know how much you’ll end up in the hole for, or what will happen if you can’t pay, and people simply don’t want to take that risk. But if they did know what they would be charged...”

“They would feel more at ease and therefore more inclined to visit?”

“Exactly. And some healers, as I said, will use higher-level magic for cases that don’t actually require it, for the sole purpose of hiking their rates. So I think the type of spell the healer will use should be made clear as well.”

“You’ve certainly thought this through.”

“I’m just working off this idea of transparency based on what I’ve seen. No one goes into debt because they want to. And I think it goes without saying that no one wants to be enslaved.”

“There may be some merit to your way of thinking.”

I was grateful to see him take my ideas to heart. Now I had to seal the deal with an anecdote. “When I was healing at the Adventurer’s Guild before coming here, I got about fifty patients a day on average. I think the reason for that was because they knew exactly what they would be paying: one silver.”

“So, you speak from experience.” He leaned back in his chair, arms still crossed. “I will admit, you’re an admirable healer.”

“There’s something else that’s been on my mind, if you don’t mind me asking.”

“I do not.”

“Both the Church and Healer’s Guild run on dues and grimoire sales, right?”

“Those and donations, yes.”

That made me pause. The idea reeked of bribery and hush money. I didn’t want to jump to conclusions or start doubting every little thing, but with an organization as corrupt as this, I couldn’t help being skeptical. It would be less of a problem if the donations were being made publicly, even if that didn’t prevent the possibility of backroom deals or kickbacks.

I thought it over for a moment then got serious. “From what I hear, it’s legal in other countries to enslave people for their debts. Now, let’s say, hypothetically, there was a corrupt clinic with connections to slavers from those countries. They could charge extreme prices, sell their patients off, and make out with a significant profit. Such dealings would be a clear disgrace to the Church of Saint Shurule.”

“Hm, you say there is more to this than meets the eye. But surely this isn’t conjecture. Do you have proof?”

“Unfortunately, I don’t.”

“Then it is mere speculation.”

“It’s more than that. There are things happening that headquarters doesn’t see, but the people and adventurers do. Healers are hated for a reason.” Okay, perhaps I went a bit too far there, but nothing I’d said was a lie.

“I see. I will confer with my fellow priests and discuss this with the archbishops,” Granhart relented with a look of exhaustion.

“Thank you for hearing me out. Now, what should I do next? I take it I can’t go back to Merratoni any time soon.” Fat chance.

“You assume correctly. For now, I will call someone to take you to Lumina’s quarters.”

With Granhart looking rather worn out, we stepped out of the room together and found an attendant waiting in the hall. After casting a brief look of concern at the priest’s haggard face, the guide escorted me onwards to Lumina’s room.