Chapter 4: The Healer Who Changed the World

01 — The Words of the Founder

Ten days had passed since I’d become an S-rank healer. Ten long days...yet nothing about my routine was all that different, although that might have been because I hadn’t done all that much to begin with. The biggest change was probably my inability to leave Headquarters unattended now. Wherever I went, someone needed to be with me, and Jord had volunteered for the task with suspicious enthusiasm. Almost as if he’d been waiting for the chance all his life.

Speaking of Jord, he was currently standing in my room once again.

“Leaving again today, Mister Luciel?”

“Yeah. It’s not like I have anything better to do. Don’t have any real work even with this new S-rank status, so I’m planning on doing what I normally do.”

“Oh. Is that all?” he asked, the spark quickly leaving his eyes.

“Um, that’s all. Also, this whole S-rank thing is just a title. I’d really appreciate it if you could talk with me like you used to. You don’t need to wait until we’re outside.”

“Perish the thought, my good sir! You never know who might be listening.”

Jord smiled brightly, like he was somehow enjoying himself. He was clearly more ballsy than I. While we were outside the castle, he was all jokes and seemed relaxed, but inside these walls he was all business.

“Wily” was one word I would use to describe him, but I couldn’t bring myself to dislike the guy.

“What are you grinning at?” One thing about him was how awful he was at hiding his enjoyment.

“Oh, was I smiling? Weird. Anyway, where shall I squire you today?” And just like that, the conversation had been derailed. Jord’s specialty.

“The Adventurer’s Guild. I know it knocked you out last time, but I need to stock up on Substance X.”

His smile vanished instantly. The tragedy that had occurred only a few days earlier had clearly flashed before his eyes. “The...Adventurer’s Guild, you say? Our superiors might take umbrage with that again.”

“I’m hardly worried about that after my speech. And relax, the adventurers won’t give you any trouble this time.”

Jord had been too busy passing out last time and therefore had no idea how much respect he’d garnered for guzzling down that Substance X in front of everyone. To the adventurers, he was my loyal follower.

“If you insist. But just so you know, and I say this for your own good, even though your new rank comes with great authority, don’t forget there are many factions within the Church, and they don’t all agree with you.”

I stiffened up. I had no idea what ideologies made up the Church’s ranks, and I needed that information if I wanted to know how to deal with them. Granhart was at the top of my list of people to ask, but I’d barely spoken to him since my promotion. He’d politely—and stoically—congratulated me, but that was about it. I considered asking Jord to gather information from him, but it would have been obvious that I’d sent him.

What-ifs could go on forever, though. Thinking wasn’t going to get me anywhere, and I had everything I needed for our outing in my magic bag.

“Warning appreciated. Now let’s get going.”

“Sir!”

From the moment we left my room, we were bombarded by judgmental gazes. I was used to the sensation after joining the Valkyries’ training sessions. Jord, on the other hand, was barely hanging in there. By the time we made it outside, his face looked like the tragedy mask Melpomene.

“How are you holding up?” I asked.

“How am I holding up? How do you handle all that, man?” Speaking of masks, my companion’s “loyal follower” persona had abruptly vanished now that we had left HQ, and we were once more behaving like equals.

“It’s been like that ever since I got involved with the Valkyries. I’m used to it now.”

“What did I just say about factions? They don’t freak you out at all?”

“Well, I’m not looking for trouble, but poison and curses don’t work against me, so I can handle a few glares if that’s all they’re dishing out. They’ll get bored eventually.”

“You’re kind of insane.”

“How so?”

“Normally when people have entire factions out to get them, the first thing they do is...I dunno, join one. Aren’t you scared about being on your own?”

Jord was suddenly making a lot of sense. Purely from the perspective of the Church, he was right. My new status brought a lot more weight to my actions that I had to be cautious about. But if issues with the Church’s factions ever came to a head like Jord feared, and I was forced to leave, I always had a job waiting for me at the local Adventurer’s Guild or the one back in Merratoni. Heck, it’d probably be a lot safer and calmer there.

“Sure, a little, but nothing good’s going to come from worrying. And I’m not alone. I’ve got you, the Valkyries, the pope... I’m grateful to have you all on my side.”

“Ha, something tells me you’re gonna make it big. I mean, you already kind of did, but you get what I’m saying.”

“I’m just a healer with a knack for holy magic. I definitely don’t need to get any bigger than this.” I really didn’t want to think about the hell that could raise.

“I’m starting to get why the Adventurer’s Guild likes you so much. Charitable healers are valuable.”

“Didn’t you say you were a lot like me back in your hometown?”

“Yeah, but y’know... I couldn’t stick to my convictions like you do. I respect you a lot for that.”

“No more compliments. It feels weird coming from you.”

“Does it? Anyway, I’ve been meaning to ask you, why do they call you Saint Weirdo?”

“Let’s change the subject, please.”

Jord laughed. “You can talk about getting poisoned or cursed like it’s nothing, but nicknames are your weakness? You’re too much.”

Oh, I’m so glad my suffering brings you joy. “You know, Jord, you really let your hair down once you leave the castle.”

“Can you blame me? It’s so stuffy in there. Can’t stand it. And healers don’t get many chances to get out.”

“Why’s that?”

“The Church isn’t exactly popular with the people lately, you know?”

I hesitated for a moment. What if this question was bait and some faction was trying to probe me? Then again, it wasn’t like my opinions about the Church were a secret, so I trusted my gut.

“Yeah, true. It was rough at first, but they liked me more once I stomached some Substance X and started healing people at fair rates.”

“And there it is. That’s what makes you weird.”

“Why? Is it that hard for other healers to get around?”

“I’d say so. They’re not keen on being glared at everywhere they go. But I guess some of us get stuck ’cause of the faction drama.”

“Hold on, is that the reason you volunteered to...”

Jord cleared his throat loudly. “Let us continue onward, my liege!”

Oh yeah, he was a wily one, all right. I could learn a thing or two from him. “Drop the formal act if you want to keep coming out with me.”

“Fine, fine. Er, oh, we’re already there.”

“We sure are. What’re you standing around for? Come on, through the door.”

I pushed him into the guildhall. It was mid-afternoon, so there were only a handful of adventurers inside, clearly much to Jord’s relief. He reminded me of my younger self. I couldn’t help but smile.

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

“You look just like I did when I first came to an Adventurer’s Guild. Feeling a bit nostalgic.”

“Were you, uh, nervous too?”

“Oh, yeah. I was so scared that someone would kill me if I even looked at them wrong, but luckily no one was actually that homicidal.”

“Yeah, right, that’s...reassuring. They’d be bandits at that point, wouldn’t they?”

“Exactly. Now come on, to the dining hall.”

Only a few adventurers were in the hall, with Grantz behind the counter. Several of the diners saw me enter and immediately fled in panic, leaving only three customers who had just started their lunches. Jord sighed, relieved that no one had commented on him or his Church-issued robe.

I wondered if there were any patients who needed healing as I made my way over to greet the guildmaster. “Hello, Grantz. I’m here to fill up on Substance X.”

“Back with yer watchdog again, eh?” he growled with a smile. It was better than the glower he’d given Jord last time but evidently not by much based on my fellow healer’s grimace.

“He’s more of a valet than a watchdog. I’m giving him some fresh air since he’s with the ‘Please Let Me Out of the Castle Already’ faction.”

“That’s one helluva crowd!” Grantz guffawed. “So, how many barrels ya need?”

“Ten, please.”

“Want a mug for the road?”

“Hmmm, sure. Maybe those kind adventurers over there will join me.”

The trio immediately panicked.

“Nope, not happenin’, Saint Weirdo. We just got back from our mission this morning, y’see.”

“Yeah, we’re adventurers, not ascetic monks. Spare us the suffering!”

“Hey, pal, you’re his chauffeur or whatever, aren’tcha? You gotta stop this! All hell breaks loose when the Saint starts leerin’ like that! Even the damn guildmaster loses it!”

The three of them pleaded with Jord with their eyes.

“Um...I think we should make a run for it while we still can,” my colleague said as his eyes searched for a way out. But it was too late.

“Open those mouths, ya wimps. Take some Substance X and lunch will be on me. And don’t even try to weasel outta this. You too, fella.”

“Damn you, Saint Weirdo!” the adventurers cried in despair, knowing that all hope was lost.

Jord, however, continued to struggle in vain, still seeking a reprieve on account of him not being an adventurer.

“Excuse me, um, why me?”

“Thought you were ’is servant.” There was no escape. His fate was sealed.

“Your heart is cold, Luciel,” he whimpered.

The guildmaster brought out our mugs of Substance X, and I downed mine first.

Jord and the others watched in disgust, then grudgingly brought their mugs to their lips. Surprise... They immediately passed out.

I chatted with Grantz to kill some time until they regained consciousness. “Why is it always me they yell at? You’re just as much to blame as I am.”

“’Cause you’re an easy target? You’re young. Makes you the punching bag. And then there’s that talk about the stuff making you stronger.”

“There’s some truth to that, actually. You need to be careful, though, because it prevents you from leveling up.”

“Since when?!”

“Just look at me. I’m proof of that.”

Who would have guessed that my inability to escape level one had been Substance X’s doing all along? Certainly not Brod or Gulgar, the culprits who had forced me to start drinking it. Although to be fair, my stats had still gone up, and my skills were nothing to sneeze at, so it wasn’t all bad.

“But there is a reason ta drink it, right?”

“I’d say it depends on the context. For me, I’m not fighting monsters every day, so I’m not going to level up anyway. If I keep this up for another year, I’m hoping my resistances will be nice and sturdy across the board.”

“Resistances, eh? Appreciate the info.”

Almost no one knew the specific advantages or disadvantages of Substance X, not even Brod, according to his letter. But maybe, just maybe, once more adventurers started drinking it, they’d finally stop calling my tongue “defective.”

“Don’t mention it. I owe the guild a lot. So, anything new?”

“Not much, ’cept for low-rankers who keep askin’ to spar with ya.”

With a healer? “Why?”

“The fame. What else?”

“The fame? Is there glory in beating up a healer? What am I, a wanted man?”

“Dunno, pal, but you sure as hell ain’t a normal healer. I’ve seen how ya fight with the Whirlwind.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? I was fighting for my life back then! And my master destroyed me!”

“Still didn’t keep ya from healin’ yourself back up over and over. They don’t call ya the Masochist Zombie for nothin’.”

“Could we please just settle on Saint Weirdo?” I was so sick of the other nicknames.

Grantz howled with laughter. “Well, just so ya know, you might be gettin’ some challenges pretty soon if you don’t mind giving ’em a round.”

What kind of guildmaster went around encouraging fights? “No, thanks, I’m good. If I actually managed to beat them, it’d be high-rankers next.”

“Now where’s the fun in that? Let’s make a wager. Loser has ta drink Substance X. It’ll be great for the guild, eh?”

“Sure, but horrible for me. What do I get out of any of this?”

“Ya get to fight strong folks.”

I was already getting plenty of that with the Valkyries. My combat training schedule was well and truly booked.

“Listen, I’m a healer.”

“You’re also an adventurer.”

“It’s not happening. I’m too busy.”

“Bah, whatever,” he sighed. “Where’d you get that attendant fella from anyway?”

He had finally bothered to ask. Me being an S-rank healer was a secret to the public, though, and it made things difficult.

“Apparently, I’m a bit of a troublemaker. Luckily, I got to choose who my escort would be, so I went with Jord.”

“You catch heat over the riots the other day?”

“No, that wasn’t the issue. I just kind of...broke a certain something at HQ.”

“Sounds like you’re more adventurer than healer ta me.”

“You might have a point. I’m just glad they didn’t toss me in a cell.”

“My doors are always open if ya ever get sick o’ that place.”

“I’ll take you up on that if I end up on the run.”

“You’ve got plenty of accomplices here.”

Once Jord and the others woke, I put the barrels of Substance X into my bag, then my attendant and I left the guildhall. On our way home, Jord insisted that we shop around for magic items on the main street. By the time we arrived back at HQ, he was looking thoroughly disheartened.

“We’re back, Jord. You can’t sulk forever.”

“Yes, I can. Everything in life is pain, and I will never be happy again. This is the Holy City for crying out loud! How can the magic items be that lame?!”

“You should have told me that was what you were looking for.”

Jord had grown quieter and quieter as we’d looked around the shops’ selection of magic items, and when I had pointed it out, I’d learned that buying some of those items was the main reason he had wanted to leave the castle in the first place. Unfortunately, not one item we’d come across even held a candle to what the shop outside the labyrinth had in stock.

“Man, and I used to be an exorcist! Now I wish I’d actually tried a little harder!”

“Why don’t I ask Catherine if the shop’s items are for sale the next time I see her?”

“You’d do that?!”

“Sure. I’ll ask some adventurers too.”

“Mister Luciel, I swear to you, I shall endeavor to be the best attendant you have ever seen. Now, onward!”

Jord marched into the castle, positively glowing with joy. I watched from behind for a moment, smiling wryly, before following him in.

When we reached my room, I said, “I’m sorry to dump this on you, but I want to meet with Granhart to learn more about these factions. Could you pass that along?”

“To Mister Gran? Of course! You wait here, sir!” he replied and promptly took off.

A knock soon came at my door.

“Come in.” The knob turned and in walked Granhart. “Oh, Mister Granhart! I didn’t expect you to come all the way to me.”

“Please, as I said before, sir, you need not apply titles to my name. As it happens, I have business to discuss with you myself, so it’s no trouble.”

“Oh, in that case, please have a seat. I’ll prepare some tea.”

“I do not intend to impose.”

“You aren’t. It’ll only take a second.”

I pulled out a chair for him and summoned a pot of freshly made tea and some light snacks from my bag.

“That is an impressive item you have there.”

I thought he’d known about my magic bag. He was less informed than I’d expected.

“I wouldn’t have gotten my hands on one if not for the labyrinth. It’s thanks to you, since you appointed me to the Combat Exorcist Unit.”

“I see.” He cast his eyes down. “That is fortunate.”

Was he not the one who had assigned me? “I don’t mean that in a bad way, for the record.”

“I know. Don’t mind me. Now, please correct me if I am mistaken, but you wish to know more about the parties that make up the Church?”

“That’s right. And what is it you wanted to speak to me about?”

“Official discussions will soon begin regarding the legislative guidelines for healing that you proposed in your inaugural address.”

“What?! How do you know that?” When the heck had that been decided, and why hadn’t the pope filled me in on something so important?

“Aligning with a faction makes one privy to certain information. I wanted you to be aware of that.”

My head had been filled with nothing but the labyrinth for so long, it never really hit me until now that the Church was so divided. How far could I realistically go on my own?

“So, you want something from me, don’t you?”

“You are correct.”

“Can I ask what that is?”

“I want to show the people that we, the Church of Saint Shurule, exist for their salvation. I want to end the hatred of healers, to better ourselves as an institution.”

“What do you mean?” I had never imagined that I’d hear such words coming from this man’s mouth.

He broke into a bitter smile. “Do you remember your first day here? When you questioned the guild’s leadership?”

“How could I forget? It all leads back to why I was called to Headquarters to begin with. I remember bringing up the need for standard rules regarding the cost of healing.”

“In truth, I doubted your claims at the time. I thought you a smooth-talking juvenile.”

Frankness, the likes of which I had never expected, from Granhart of all people, came bursting through the dam. I felt proud that he had come to trust me.

“I don’t blame you. You looked like you didn’t want to believe me.”

“No, I didn’t. So I had to see it for myself. I conducted investigations of guilds from every nation, overseen by third parties, tradesmen, adventurers, and the like, in the name of objectivity.”

“You went that far?” His devotion to the Church astounded me.

“A part of me wishes I had not. There were so many discoveries, so many truths that I cannot unsee.”

“But none of that’s your fault.”

“I share the blame. I was blind to everything around me, anything that was not within the Church Headquarters itself.”

I wondered if Granhart was a child of the Church, maybe a member’s son. How else could he have gone for so long without hearing about all the unrest?

Speaking with him was always nerve-racking, and I was going to suffocate if the tension in this conversation became any thicker, so I changed the subject.

“Is your faction aware of all this?”

“Yes. What I am asking is for you to let me aid you in the drafting of the guidelines.” He stood up, a fire burning in his eyes. “Before our institution’s name is besmirched any further.”

“I would love to have your help. But what party are you aligned with?”

“Yes, excuse me. Let me explain the philosophies within the Church. There are three primary groups: The Loyalists, who prioritize the pope’s will above all else. The Reformists, helmed by profiteering executives. And my own group, the Moderates, whose only concern is the general welfare of the people.”

From the outside, I probably looked like a Loyalist given I was Her Holiness’s direct subordinate.

“What’s the difference between the Loyalists and the Moderates?”

“Loyalists, true to their name, are loyal only to Her Holiness. Her orders are absolute, the be-all and end-all. Moderates, however, do not blindly follow authority figures. Our only allegiance is to the people.”

There weren’t many who had the privilege of meeting with her, but the pope was certainly no dictator. She seemed extremely open-minded, so I didn’t see the point of the distinction.

“So, your faction wants to ensure that the pope doesn’t have absolute power. But the Reformists hold the most influence at the moment, right? Why don’t the Loyalists and Moderates work together?”

“Out of curiosity, why do you say the Reformists are the most influential?”

“That’s just my impression. It fits with the current narrative. I don’t think people would be calling healers money-hungry so much unless there was a money-hungry faction in power.”

“Is that all?”

“For the most part.”

As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t fully trust Granhart yet. He was the one who had orchestrated my transfer to HQ based on Bottaculli’s letter, so I couldn’t rule out the possibility that he was actually a Reformist. I still needed the knowledge that he could provide, though. This was perhaps something to look into with Her Holiness and Catherine.

“Very well. What do you say to my offer of assistance?”

“I think our goals are the same. You worry for the Church like I worry for the future of healers, and we could do a lot of good if we worked together.”

“Thank you. I believe so as well.”

“No, I should be the one thanking you.” I held out my hand and Granhart shook it without hesitation.

“Now, where to begin? Perhaps noteworthy individuals within the factions.”

“I’m all ears.”

Time flew by as we began drafting up the new healer guidelines in earnest.

＊

Progress on the rulebook had slowed considerably, and the primary culprit for that was the problem of pre-existing healing rates. Everyone had their own standards for how they valued their magic, and making sweeping changes to the prices willy-nilly could put people’s livelihoods in jeopardy. I knew that I’d spend my entire life regretting it if I let this chance pass me by, but I seemed to be the only one who felt the need to rip the band-aid off and rebuild our system from the ground up.

I was filled with hesitation and indecision. So I turned to someone I could trust.

“And that’s why I’ve been prioritizing other work over the labyrinth lately.”

“I wondered how you were spending your days. But you’re certain I’m the one you ought to confide in?” Lumina asked, trying to hide her confusion.

“You don’t think so? I figured there was no harm in talking to you about it, plus there’s no one around to eavesdrop. Who would think we’d be having a serious discussion in the middle of a training session?”

“That’s because banter tends to leave one awfully open.”

I saw her lunge towards me, and an instant later, my back violently slammed into something hard, knocking the wind out of me.

“It’s that bad?” I wheezed as I cast Heal on myself.

“I did just throw you to the ground.”

“That you did. Where did you learn to do that?” It sure wasn’t part of any training I’d seen the Valkyries do so far.

“Surpass me, then maybe I’ll divulge that information. But enough chitchat, I want to see you at your best. Go all out; we have your healing skills for injuries.”

“Chitchat”? I’d thought I was confiding in her, but okay. Ouch.

“All right, but can I ask your thoughts on something first?”

“What might that be?”

“You’re pretty well-traveled, right? It’s fair to say your understanding of how things are outside Headquarters, and what people think of healers, is better than most?”

She tilted her head. “It has been some time since I was asked to oversee an inspection, so I’m afraid I can’t speak to the specifics.” Then she nodded. “But I suppose I can speak with some authority.”

“Any amount is fine. I just wanted to know... Do you think, objectively, that healers are hated?”

“I think the vast majority are, yes. Exceptions like you do exist, but based on my own experiences, adventurers tend to despise them. Especially beastfolk.”

“Human supremacy is a deep issue, so I don’t see a quick and easy solution to that problem. But I’m relieved to hear that we agree. Just how would you fix something like that?”

“You would be better suited to finding that answer yourself, Luciel.”

“Oh, I don’t mean to make it your problem. I’m just waffling here, so I wanted to hear someone else’s opinion.” I wasn’t conceited enough to assume that my own ideas were more valid than anyone else’s.

“Hm... Your goal is to improve public regard for healers, correct?”

“That and to keep the healers themselves satisfied at the same time.” I knew how impossible that sounded, but I only needed a hint of an idea to cling to.

“What about reducing prices temporarily as a proof of concept?”

“Sorry, but try not to think along those lines.” Drastically lowering prices and then raising them back to normal was basically asking for riots. It was too risky to try.

“Not everyone will see eye-to-eye with you. I think it’s a fool’s errand to attempt to satisfy every single person.”

“I don’t disagree with you there, but I feel anxious, like I need to move fast, before other would-be healers get caught up in the hate and corruption.”

“Then why not leave the decision-making to the individual?”

“The individual? You mean let the patient choose their healer and the magic they’re treated with?”

“You once said that the magic one uses to heal another should be based on a thorough examination, correct? If the results of said examination were relayed to the patient and the choice was his or her own, the responsibility would not fall on the healer.”

Now that was an interesting option. I knew two heads would be better than one. The next time I had a chance, I needed to remember to ask the other Valkyries for their input as well.

“There are some holes in that, but you’ve given me some hope for getting this draft passed. I appreciate it.”

“I’m glad to help. Where are your thoughts at now?”

“Right, well...”

＊

“Luciel? Luciel! Are you listening?” A voice from beyond my consciousness interjected just as I was about to explain the gist of my proposal to Lumina in my daydream. “Luciel! What are you muttering to yourself over there?”

“Huh? Oh, sorry, Catherine. I zoned out thinking about something from earlier today.”

I’d lost myself in contemplation, but Catherine had brought me back to the present. Big names from every faction sat around us, looking down at the documents that I’d put together.

“Please keep your head on straight. We’re all here because you insisted there was a problem that needed rectifying.”

“I’m sorry.”

She was absolutely right. How stupid would it have been to blow it all just like that after coming so far? Granhart’s information, Lumina’s advice, and my completed draft would have gone to waste.

“The poor boy must be tired. It’s not even been a month since his big ceremony and yet he’s prepared quite an admirable amount of material for this meeting,” the archbishop remarked. According to Granhart and Catherine, Mardan was a prominent figure within the Moderates faction but a gentle and pious old man.

The documents that everyone had sitting before them were my proposed guidelines for healing services. It made an examination of the patient a required step for the treatment process and gave patients the right to know how they would be healed and what they would be charged. It also outlined new pricing options for magic, prohibited the indiscriminate use of high-level spells, and considered several measures that the Church itself could take in its leadership of the guild.

“This is a fair point; however, I must say I expected this document to be related to legislative practices, not the total restructuring of the healing profession.” The speaker, Muneller, was a man with a face like a backstreet peddler. His exact title was a mystery, but he was the pope’s right hand, often appearing at events, domestic and international, in Her Holiness’s place.

Before this meeting, he’d pulled me aside to tell me, “I will not pretend to be your ally, but you have been given the floor, and you would do well to make use of it.”

“I concur. The healers would strike en masse if this were made law,” Dongahar (yes, that was his real name) declared. He was the head of the Reformists and had opposed this gathering right up until our meeting began.

Normally the dissent of the most powerful faction’s leader would be a death sentence to any form of legislature, but Her Holiness’s purge of the most corrupt members of the Church had hit the Reformists hard, and they’d lost a substantial amount of clout. This gave the pope some bargaining power to strike a deal with them and allowed the meeting to proceed.

“But who are we to disobey Her Holiness?” the former templar captain remarked. After an injury had forced him to retire from active duty, Bulteuse had devoted himself to the Church as a healer and risen through the ranks to archbishop at a surprisingly young age, making him the subject of many nasty rumors. But his affable personality made him well-liked by his peers. Although a Loyalist at heart, he was something of an independent and, based on what Granhart had told me, nearly as influential as some Reformists. Along with Catherine, he was moderating the discussion.

“Indeed, but the fact is that rebellion would be highly likely if we suddenly shackled healers where once they had liberties,” Dongahar insisted. “In fact, as the arbiter of this change, Luciel’s life could be put in danger by it.”

A chill ran down my spine. That was no statement of concern—it was a warning. I was sturdy enough that any assassination attempt that didn’t kill me on the spot wasn’t worth worrying about, but I made a mental note to keep my guard up.

“We cannot ignore these problems any longer than we already have. Unless you would see the Church and its authority crumble to the ground?” Mardan challenged.

“Oh, well, then I suppose we ought to pass Luciel’s plans straight to Her Holiness for ratification immediately, archbishop.” Dongahar glared daggers at me, and I knew at once that this man was going to be difficult.

“Not immediately, no. There are holes to be filled in and details to be discussed, as I’m sure you are well aware.”

“So long as the changes are not drastic, I suppose it does merit some thought.” For a group called “Reformists,” Dongahar seemed awfully conservative.

“Then we are in agreement that our current duty is to see to the restructuring of the Healer’s Guild,” Muneller stated.

Mardan smiled and nodded, but Dongahar refused to hide his reluctance and said, “Very well. What are we to do? Surely these documents aren’t to serve as the basis.”

“Luciel,” the elderly Mardan addressed me, “will these guidelines of yours truly restore the name of healers and the Church?”

Finally. I’d been sitting there wondering how long everyone was going to argue before my existence was acknowledged. “Frankly, no. They aren’t nearly enough.”

“Not enough?” the Reformist repeated. But it was far too soon for the conversation to be getting that heated. I was just getting warmed up.

“As I said during my speech, ‘healer’ and ‘greedy’ are nearly synonymous for a reason. While corrupt healers destroy lives by charging obscene prices, the Church and the guild they oversee have remained silent. Complicit.”

“I see your logic, but it’s simply impossible for us to know what is going on in every single clinic,” Dongahar countered. “What if high-level magic is deemed necessary to cure a wound, and the patient rebukes the healer and questions their judgment after treatment?”

That was a very good question. Prioritize the people too much and the healers themselves would suffer for it. This was where a certain common-sense system from my past life came in: health insurance.

“We could protect against that by asking for the patient’s consent and having them sign to receive treatment. In cases where they’re unconscious, we would ask a friend or family member in their place.”

“I see. We create joint liability.”

“Exactly. I’m also toying with the idea of having the Adventurer’s Guild front some of the cost of treating its members, if necessary.” Whether this would be of use to the people, or whether they’d even accept such a system, I couldn’t decisively say. But I figured presenting the option to a group of top faction leaders wasn’t a bad idea.

“The Adventurer’s Guild is not responsible for the injuries of its members. I simply cannot fathom why they would accept your proposal,” Muneller said.

“You’re absolutely right. You can only register as an adventurer after agreeing to the condition that the guild is not liable for your actions. But consider for a moment what would happen if a healer told an injured adventurer they couldn’t be treated without money.”

“The blame would fall on the healer. They would be considered greedy.”

Pure objectivity was the name of the game here. I couldn’t let my own personal feelings muddle things. They wanted to hear how this would benefit the Healer’s Guild.

“Right, and that would be unfair. So by placing the responsibility of payment on the Adventurer’s Guild, the fault falls on them, not the healer.”

Dongahar cackled. “Now there’s an idea! You mean to turn the tables on them.”

“It won’t be that easy if the healers are the only ones benefiting.”

“But enacting your guidelines would balance the scales,” Mardan observed.

“In theory. I’m sure the healers who have coasted along with the current system will vehemently oppose these changes, but I believe this would help to make healing a respectable occupation again.”

Silence followed as the men thought things over, seemingly favorably, until Mardan asked, “May I pose a question?”

“Of course.”

“What is it that drives you? For whom do you champion these ideals? Tell me honestly.”

I faltered for a moment. But I felt like I knew the answer, like I’d known it vaguely for some time. “That’s a good question. Part of it is for the people, of course, and part of it is for my fellow healers. But at the same time, I feel like—at first, at least—it was for myself.”

“Yourself?”

“In Merratoni, where I first became a healer, there was a clinic filled with talent, with healers capable enough to use spells like High Heal. As I’m sure you’re all aware, it takes a Holy Magic skill of at least level six to be able to cast that spell, so when I first heard about the place, I was filled with respect and admiration for the effort they’d put in just to help others.”

If Bottaculli hadn’t been playing with adventurers’ lives, I’d have loved to have learned from him.

“But we’re only human, and we’re drawn to material possessions, just as I’m sure that clinic was. As it turned out, their only intention was to squeeze every copper they could out of their patients, knowing full well that what they were doing would incite hatred.”

“Then your aim in all of this is to avoid being hated?”

“In a sense. I believe that dedicating yourself to a craft for so long only to use your talents for selfish gain is a horrible waste. By clearly defining rates and services, and making an accessible environment for all people to receive treatment, we can make healing affordable for everyone. Our jobs will become busier, but we can make healers revered again.”

To say nothing of the advances in class and skill levels this would lead to.

“And then maybe someday children will tell their parents, ‘I want to be a healer when I grow up.’ That is the future I dream of. No matter what obstacles I face, no matter what storms I weather, I will not waver. I am an S-rank healer, and I will bring hope to the people.”

Of course, I was ignoring the fact that kids didn’t really get to choose what they wanted to be when they grew up—that choice was made for them at their coming-of-age ceremony. Still...

The room was dead quiet. I’d gotten a bit worked up there, and now everyone was staring at me. In silence.

I looked awkwardly over at the moderators, and Catherine was jolted out of her trance.

“Luciel has clearly given very serious thought to the future of healers. How will the floor respond?”

“The man has conviction. I say we deliberate on his proposal more thoroughly.” Dongahar’s tune seemed to have done a one-eighty out of nowhere, and he began to reread my draft in earnest.

Everyone else followed, and soon the only sound that filled the room was the flipping of pages.

“‘I am an S-rank healer, the bringer of hope.’ Perhaps it’s youth that spurs him to quote such legendary words,” Dongahar muttered, “or perhaps it is that fire that carried him to his current position.”

Now Dongahar was complimenting me. “Legendary words”? I couldn’t have been more lost.

“Excuse me, what?”

“I knew this proposal was important to you,” Catherine said, “but I never imagined you felt strongly enough to quote the guild’s founder, Lord Reinstar Gustard himself.”

Reinstar whosit? I’d quoted somebody? I remembered once reading a story about a Reinstar-something-or-other back in Merratoni, but I’d forgotten nearly everything about it. And something about this whole ordeal made me feel that it wasn’t the best time to ask who he was.

“Please, there’s no need to make a fuss over it. How I feel is irrelevant to whether it’s right for the Church or not.”

“Oh, but we do not exaggerate,” Bulteuse said. “This is your first act as an S-ranker, Luciel. If ever there is a day when your life’s achievements are recorded in text, this meeting will go down in the annals of history throughout the world.”

If they weren’t exaggerating before, they certainly were now. Bulteuse began reeling off instructions to the recordkeeper as if my biography were already well underway.

“We must endeavor to ensure that Luciel wants for nothing on his travels,” Mardan said passionately.

Since when was traveling part of the S-rank job description?

“It would be too dangerous for him to set off alone like Lord Reinstar, though. We must consider the organization of a personal guard,” Muneller added.

“Shall we gather companions from the knights?” Dongahar suggested.

“By my understanding, Luciel is friendly with the Valkyries, but assigning both the Captain of the Guard and those women to him would be demanding.”

Granhart had told me flat out not to expect the factions to come together in agreement. Ever. Which made me extraordinarily confused by what I was currently witnessing. And now there was suddenly talk about companions and traveling that didn’t sound like they meant a mere few stops around the country. What had I done to deserve this?

“I’m sorry, Luciel, but we can’t send the girls with you,” Catherine said apologetically.

“Um...” I had so many bad feelings about this.

“Say no more,” Dongahar interrupted. “You are, of course, free to purchase slaves abroad if you’re ever in need of capable fighting hands on your journey.”

“No, that’s not what I...”

“Be at ease. Your S-rank healer card will ensure that you’re shown the proper respect and veneration, even in Illumasia,” Muneller informed me.

Not one of these people understood my anxiety. Traveling domestically was already a life-or-death gamble for me, and now they wanted me to travel the entire freaking world? Was this because of that damn dragon’s protection? No, that would be a stretch, even if an international tour was a surprisingly convenient excuse to free his imprisoned brethren. Good thing there was no way I’d be conquering any more labyrinths.

“He’s likely to be investigating acts of corruption at his destinations, so he’ll need an arclink crystal to communicate. We’ll have to get in contact with Neldahl. I’ll inform Her Holiness,” Bulteuse said.

“I will prepare a map for him,” Mardan added.

“Your Horsemanship skill will need improvement if you’re going to travel, Luciel. It’s safe enough here in Shurule, but you’ll have to worry more about bandits and such once you step beyond our borders. Can you ask the Valkyries for help with that?”

“Uh, sure?”

Catherine probably knew that Forêt Noire was the only horse I could actually ride. Skill level didn’t determine whether you could sit on any one horse’s back, but Forêt was the only one that didn’t buck me off the second I tried.

“How I wish I were young enough to join you, but alas,” Dongahar lamented.

“Let us do everything in our power to aid Luciel on his journey so that he may depart well prepared and with haste!” Mardan announced.

Everyone present voiced their agreement, and the discussion quickly returned to the matter of the guidelines.

Over the course of several days, we met with specialists from each of the factions as we ironed out the final draft. Seeing it take shape and evolve from a bare-bones document into formal legislation with an actual schedule for enforcement, and watching notices get sent out to the guild branches, made me frustrated with how little I knew about the process. There wasn’t nearly enough for me to do.

By some miracle, only ten days after our first meeting, nearly every aspect of my original draft had been incorporated and approved by every faction, then subsequently ratified by the pope.

Ironically, this made me less excited and more concerned about its fragility. At any moment, any one of the Church’s fractured groups could have stopped the guidelines dead in their tracks, just like that.