14 — Saint Weirdo is Born

14 — Saint Weirdo is Born

The pope’s servant escorted me back to my usual area, then I made my way to the dining hall from there. It was still a little early for dinner, but there were people everywhere. I hopped into the back of the line and was thinking about ordering an extra helping today, when a voice pulled me from my thoughts.

“Luciel, join us over there once you have your meal.”

I knew who it was before even turning around. “Hello, Miss Lumina. Thanks, I’d love to.”

“We’ll be waiting.”

Those around us didn’t take kindly to our acquaintance and showered me with prickly, cold glares. Evidently, Lumina and her Valkyries were a popular bunch. The glaring was a little depressing, though.

“Good afternoon. I’ll have a large—no, extra-large serving, please. Oh, and today’s lunch was delicious, as always.”

“Oh, Luciel, you charmer. I’ll whip that right up for you.”

The glares from around the room shifted to my meal. It was a mountain of food that could have fed anyone else five times over. I quickly made for Lumina’s table to escape the attention.

“You’re all here together? I don’t see that often,” I commented.

“There have been incidents on the borders of Illumasia, Luburk, and Shurule,” Lumina said. “Unfortunately, we’re being deployed along with the templar unit.”

“Meaning?”

“I apologize, but we will have to suspend our training. Our grounds will, of course, remain open for you to practice your horsemansh—ahem, your horse riding.”

Wow, okay, so what I do doesn’t even count as horsemanship. Lumina had always been a bit oblivious when it came to unabashedly insulting me, but it hurt just the same.

“Got it. And I know you’re all strong, but please be careful out there.”

“I’m more worried about how you’re going to get on without us,” Marluka said ominously.

“Um, what?”

“She’s gotta point, pal,” Gannet added. “Folks aren’t too happy about the time you’ve been spending with us.”

“I guess that’s true.” Now that I thought about it, being on good terms with an entire regiment of beautiful paladins wasn’t a good look. Jord, Granhart, and Yanbath were the only men I’d spoken to while here at HQ. It was like I was being avoided.

“They’ve always got their eyes on you.” Beatrice, you’re scaring me.

“Rest in peace.” Kathy, slow your roll.

“You guys are jumping to conclusions. I doubt anyone would actually get violent over something like this,” I said, unconcerned. The entire table heaved a mysterious sigh.

“You really need to get better at reading people,” Ripnear chided me.

“But would an attentive Luciel truly be Luciel?” Elizabeth had come to my defense...I think.

“I’ll visit your grave when you die.” Queena had reached her own conclusions, apparently.

“I will avenge you.” And Myla was disturbing me. Could she not, say, defend me instead? Why was vengeance the only option?

“I hope you’ve got fast legs,” Lucy remarked, holding her fist up.

“Where am I even supposed to run to?”

“Hmm, well they can’t follow you into the labyrinth, so why not hide out there?” So, my usual schedule, then. Thanks, Lucy.

“Ladies, quit making light of matters,” Lumina reprimanded.

“Do you have any advice for me?”

She looked away.

“Hey, least he’s got balls. I bet he’s got enough stones to protect his family jewels.” There was Saran’s trademark raunchiness, but I failed to see what these “stones” had to do with keeping me alive.

“Saran, how can your words be so vulgar yet your room so feminine and elegant? Honestly, you sound like a drunk at a pub.”

“Shut it, Elizabeth! I don’t wanna hear that from someone who lives in a pigsty, miss prim and proper.”

“Oh, you’ve done it now. I hope you’re prepared for the consequences of revealing a maiden’s secrets.”

“Now, now, you two. You’re causing a lot of collateral damage here,” Lucy intervened.

Finally remembering that I was there, the two women sat back down, red in the face. They continued to glare at each other, but I wasn’t touching that with a ten-foot pole.

“Anyhow, if you’ve lost your edge by the time we return, we’ll remedy that whether you like it or not, so I hope you’ll continue to apply yourself,” Lumina said.

“I will. And I’m praying your journey is a safe and short one.”

I had many worries inside me, but among them was a new determination stirred by Lumina’s words.

We chatted for a while as we ate then parted ways. First, I decided to take some of their advice to heart and ordered heaps of extra food for later. Without the Valkyries, the labyrinth really did seem like the safest place to be. Then I had an errand to run before heading back to my room. I was low on Substance X, so I was off to the Adventurer’s Guild.

The instant I walked into the guildhall, my stupid robe attracted snarls and glowers from every corner.

I made a beeline for the dining hall where the guildmaster tended to be. I was met with much the same welcome in the mess and went straight to the stout man at the counter.

“Hello, there.”

“Well hell, ya actually drank that muck.” He frowned. “What’s with the getup, kid?”

“Isn’t it lame? I’m required to wear it, apparently. So, I wanted to bulk order some food, if that’s okay. And extra barrels of Substance X too, please.”

The guildmaster gaped at me along with practically everyone in the room. “You pullin’ my leg?”

“No, sir. I’m going on an...expedition, let’s call it, so I’d like to add seven barrels, to be exact. Ten in all.”

“You’re the boss. Now...” he hesitated. “You’re the Masochist Zombie Healer, yeah? I’ve got a favor... No, a request for ya. Wouldja hear me out?”

“That depends on the kind of request it is, I suppose.”

“I want you ta do whatcha did at Merratoni.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can,” I said. “I work at headquarters, so I can’t live here.”

“What about just the healin’ part?”

His face was sullen. I was worried that if I denied him, he might ban me from the premises, but there was surely no harm in accepting a request as an adventurer.

“First of all, you’re kind of scaring me. And I’m still technically an adventurer, so as long as it’s an official request, I think we can make something work.”

It was a reasonable compromise. And to be honest, although my attachment to the adventurers in this city was nonexistent, it didn’t change the fact that I owed a lot to the guild itself and to the people who had taken care of me. By lending a hand to adventurers in need, maybe, just maybe, I could repay a little of what Brod had done for me.

I suddenly noticed that the hall was quieter today. Just as I was wondering where everyone had gone, I saw what looked to be a casualty being carried down into the basement.

“Ya mean it?! Just sit tight, I’ll getcha that substance. What about the food? Didja need that right away?”

“Just the Substance X for now, thanks. I’d like you to refill the barrels I’ve got with me too.”

“You got it!”

The guildmaster vanished into the back of the kitchen. I called a waitress over while I waited. It was a different woman from the one I’d met during my first visit.

“Can I take your order?” she asked.

“Oh, no, it’s just been a while since I was last here and I noticed everyone seems really on edge. Did something happen?”

“You could say that. The adventurers have been having a rough time of it fighting the particularly strong monsters that are popping up lately.”

Strange. I’d heard that powerful monsters were uncommon in Shurule, especially near the capital. “I’m sorry to hear that. Is that why the guildmaster was looking so serious?”

“The adventurers here are like family to him. You can hardly blame him for his sour mood after so many have been injured.” She smiled, but there was no joy behind it. All I felt from her was anger.

“Can’t the clinics do anything?” I asked. As long as it was nothing serious, they had to have been able to help out.

“You would have them take their wounded to a clinic, only to be charged Crya knows how much gold?” she growled. “What are we to you, slaves?!”

I froze up. I’d never felt such vitriolic hatred from someone I had just met. The people’s resentment of healers was obviously not unique to Merratoni, but how had my simple question incited such rage? Unless there were people like Bottaculli even here in the Holy City... At the very least, I had to defend myself.

“No, of course not. I never meant to imply that.”

“Mirlina! Knock it off!” cried the guildmaster with perfect timing, carrying in my barrels of Substance X.

“But sir,” she protested, “this boy is telling us to do business with clinics!” Her icy, loathsome glare didn’t feel very nice.

“Don’t make me have ta explain everything,” he said to her dismissively, then turned to me. “Will ya take our request?”

“I don’t come cheap,” I declared. “It’ll cost one silver per patient. And I want your support if the pope, the Valkyrie Paladin Regiment, or I are ever in need. Also, you have to do something about my nickname. Those are my terms.”

My alias was starting to stick and I would have vastly preferred something cooler sounding than “Masochist” or “Zombie Healer.” I heard that Gulgar shared in my pain when he’d gotten his: the Bear Chef. “I ain’t a bear-man, I’m a wolf-man, dammit!” he’d cry. But alas...

“Done.” He slammed a mug of Substance X on the counter. “Chug this down and our contract’s official. I’ll gather the injured downstairs for ya.”

I wasn’t sure how this garbage constituted the solidification of a binding contract, but whatever. I hadn’t had any after dinner, so no harm done. I gulped it down and heaved a hearty sigh.

“There. Now, let’s see those patients. Oh, first I should store these barrels. Don’t want them to start smelling.” I counted all ten and stashed them inside my magic bag.

“Is that a...” The guildmaster trailed off, looking surprised at the sight of my rare item. “Forget it. Follow me.”

A good idea, considering my Church robe was liable to spark some fires.

We descended into the training grounds, which had been converted into a makeshift field hospital. Those who noticed my robe shot looks of intense hatred at me. Or no, they weren’t directed at me, specifically. They were directed at the robe and what it represented.

Things got heated quickly.

“What the hell’re you doing here, you goddamn money-grubber!”

“You and your kind can go straight to hell!”

“Get out of here!”

“Someone smash his head in!”

Adventurers from all over the room hurled threats and insults at me. I was, to be honest, absolutely terrified. Back in Merratoni, Nanaella and Monica had been my respite, my allies. They had given me the drive to push on. Those two and the general friendly crowd that surrounded me there. But I could never live in a place like this. I desperately wanted to leave.

“Quiet, you morons!” the guildmaster bellowed. Silence fell at once. “This kid, no, this man is the legendary Masochist Zombie of Merratoni. He’s here to heal your sorry asses for a silver each and if you wanna complain about it then you can get the hell out of my guildhall!”

Before I could feel sufficiently offended by that introduction, murmurs began to rise up around the room.

“The Zombie Healer?”

“He’s kinda cute. You’re telling me he’s a bottom?”

“I thought he was just an urban legend!”

“What sage would heal people for a silver each?”

“Hey, look alive! If that’s really him, we might be saved!”

“We believe in you, Sir Zombie! Please, heal us!”

Cheers of “zombie this” and “masochist that” shook the very floor I stood on. And boy was I unhappy about it. That damn guildmaster was out to get me.

Wait... This was my chance. First impressions were everything.

“I have no intention of stealing business from my fellow healers,” I announced. “I’m only here on an errand to pick up some Substance X. It was pure coincidence. So don’t expect me to be here every time you need me. I know the clinics’ prices may be high, but please don’t resort to violence or conflict.” I looked over the crowd. “I will heal you for one silver each. If the pope, Valkyrie Paladin Regiment, or I am ever in need, I will expect your support. Lastly, you will not refer to me as ‘zombie’ or ‘masochist.’ I want a nickname I can be proud of. Understand? Good. Patients with serious injuries, please gather in one place and I’ll begin.”

The adventurers quickly divided themselves by severity of injury. In the meantime, I checked my skills and was met with a surprise. I’d expected it to take me at least another half-year, but my Holy Magic skill was now up to eight. I couldn’t help but wonder if the god of healing was on my side, then got to work.

“Oh holy hand of healing. Oh birthing breath of the land. Heed my prayer. Take my energy for an angelic breath and mend the beings of this realm. Area High Heal!”

As the chant left my lips, I felt my magical energy slip away. I carefully controlled its flow, tuned it, and let it gently trickle outward. Those around me were enveloped in a soft, blue light. Their bodies began to glow and their wounds closed up. Gashes resealed, bones reset themselves by mechanisms unknown. A few seconds later, the light faded and the adventurers’ wounds had vanished.

I sighed. “There. Who’s next?”

“Hey, hurry up and get the next ones over here,” the guildmaster ordered, looking a little flustered.

I ignored his strange behavior. The Healing came first. Once all the patients in immediate danger had been dealt with, I could afford some breaks, which allowed me to finish off the rest of the patients with another Area High Heal. There were some who were poisoned and I cured them as well, on the house.

Unfortunately, no matter what I tried, I couldn’t reform lost eyes or regrow dismembered limbs. But not a single person reproached me.

Once the healing was done, whispers of my new alias could be heard through the calm.

“So, Masochist Zombie’s out.”

“Guess he doesn’t like it.”

“Well, what else is he? A sage? He’s a healer, after all.”

“This is a tough one. He keeps fighting, no matter the odds. So maybe he’s into combat?”

“What about the Combat Medic?”

“Nah, doesn’t sound right. He’s always helpin’ people for cheap, so how’s about the Bargain Healer?”

“Sure, if you want the Healer’s Guild on his ass.”

“Masochist Zombie just rolls off the tongue, y’know? It’s hard to one-up.”

“He’s a swell guy, ain’t he? We could call him Sir Saint.”

“He’s just a kid. That feels too lofty.”

“Well, he’s always drinking garbage. The Misfit Healer?”

“That’s not much different from calling him a masochist.”

“Okay, so he’s saintlike but also weird. What about Saint Weirdo?”

“That’s it!” they cried together.

“My heart’s still set on Masochist Zombie, though.”

“True,” they agreed together.

I, meanwhile, rather angrily collected my pay among cries of “zombie” and “masochist.” But I was just about spent, magically, so I let them know I’d be back tomorrow to collect the food I had ordered, and was on my way out after downing another mug of Substance X when a cheer began. “Saint Weirdo” was their call.

With a new nickname to contend with, disdain in my heart, and tears on my face, I made a vow to myself and the moon above. One day, I’d be strong. Strong enough to set these adventurers and their twisted naming senses right.