Ch. 22 - Then Let Someone Die

The Clan Olympus, affiliated with the Adventurer’s Guild, held an A-rank license. That rank alone spoke for its members: every one of them—even the maids—was formidable.

“Enzo,” I said evenly, “I may have spoken too harshly earlier. Still, your point had merit. In case of an emergency, purchase some supplies from the apothecary. I leave the choice to you, but don’t overdo it. Just enough to cover the unexpected.”

“O-oh, got it. I’ll head out at once.”

Although reluctant, Enzo hurried out.

Marielle turned her gaze on me, sharp as a blade.

I spat out the flavorless Kyara incense from my mouth.

“Number Two. You—”

“You keep calling me that. What does it mean?”

Zoë darted over and shoved a fresh piece of Kyara into my mouth.

“My apologies, Miss Marielle.”

The peppermint bite cleared my head, as it always did—icy clarity, silence lodged in the sinuses.

“Miss Marielle. Do you have any stock of myconid spores?”

Myconids were mushroom-like monsters living inside the dungeons. Not especially dangerous, but their spores had potent sleep-inducing properties. Excellent as catalysts for magic, and essential in anesthetic blends.

“If you do, I’d like them all. Put it on Alex’s tab.”

“Understood.”

As expected, competence needed no fuss. Marielle rose without hesitation and slipped out.

“Miss Annette,” I turned next, “fetch the Grisalis grass I mentioned. It grows riverside. Look for purple blossoms. Pull it up whole, roots intact, and shake off the soil as much as possible.”

Annette looked doubtful, gaze sliding away.

“Uh… um… right. Purple flowers. Riverside… Got it.”

Oh dear. Not everyone here is capable… What should I do? 

Grisalis wasn’t as powerful as a medicinal ingredient, but its versatility as a base was invaluable. A mistake wouldn't be acceptable.

I was about to offer to go myself when Zoë spoke.

“Zoë knows Grisalis… I know where it grows.”

“What—”

I had suspected as much, but her words confirmed it: this dwarf girl was the sharpest mind in the room.

Before thinking, I pulled Zoë into my arms and kissed her forehead, a blessing flowing through me.

“Ah!”

She yelped, startled. Her small frame glowed, scattering motes of light—tiny stars drifting like phosphorescence before sinking back into her body.

“Ah…”

Her cheeks flushed, Zoë stood frozen for a beat, then remembered her task. Tugging Ashita’s hand, she hurried out.

“A blessing for luck?” Annette muttered, wide-eyed.

“I wouldn’t know,” I replied.

Turning to the remaining maids, I continued without pause.

“Prepare three red stones and three blue stones, also, needles, as many as possible. Sewing pins will do, but I want iron ones. The kind used as hidden weapons. Understood?”

The elegant warcats bowed in unison and left.

◇◆

Now then… left alone with the useless one.

Annette’s face was flushed with excitement.

“H-hey, can you use blessings like that, too?”

“I am a priest. Inexperienced still, but that much I can manage.”

Blessings, of course, took many forms: enhancements of the body, rites of passage, and more.

“Then do it on me too!”

“I refuse.”

“I’ll pay you!”

“Pay me? Hmm. Pay…”

I wasn’t so base as to hawk blessings for coin. Yet the word stirred something important.

“For today, then, the fee is two hundred silver coins.”

I had made a promise with Abby. If I failed to demand at least that, Abby would reduce me to kitchen labor. Considering what I was about to attempt, it was a modest sum.

“If injuries arise, depending on severity, expect an additional hundred silver coins, or more.”

Annette froze.

“F-five silver coins. At most…”

“Hahaha! As if pocket change like that could suffice!”

A priest hired from the church would cost far more than what I asked.

In truth, I had grievances with that muscle-head fool already. She had sown discord in Abby’s party knowingly and without care for the consequences.

“But a contract is a contract…” Annette muttered.

“My view is that by coming here, I have fulfilled my part of the contract.”

After all, it was my priestly service they had bound, and five silver coins were an insult. My worth was higher, and I would not undersell myself.

“That’s not what we agreed on!” Annette snapped, glaring daggers.

Ah, so she can't yield here.

Very well. If debts were not repaid, even Mother Asclepia would be disappointed.

“Then someone must die,” I said calmly.

The two hands of Asclepia:

One heals, one takes away.

“Here, it shall be Alex, since she signed the contract. We’ll settle with her life.”

Mother Asclepia’s power was not only mercy. She was a miser. She loved revenge.

I accepted both with equal devotion.

“Don’t worry, Miss Annette,” I added with solemn calm. “I’ll make it gentle. She’ll pass as though drifting into sleep.”

I had sworn against greed. I clung to nothing. But I wasn’t some flower-brained volunteer, either.

I had already intended to make that muscle-head fool take responsibility. 

The timing was just convenient.

Annette ground her teeth, fury sparking in her eyes.

“No brat like you could kill Alex…”

“Perhaps,” I said mildly. “If he lives, today’s fee will be five silver coins, as you wish. Let’s put it to the test.”

In truth, I doubted Alex’s resistance to curses was high. The odds of his death were… favorable.

The Word of Death. A curse, yes—but also a blessing.

Death brings an end to burdens. Mother’s hand both takes and gives.

◇◆

The maids returned first.

Taking the three blue stones, I invoked a blessing, filling them until they brimmed with holy water.

“That’s all holy water?” Annette whispered.

I gave no reply. My work spoke for itself.

Enzo returned next.

Quick, as expected. Annette whispered something, probably wanting him on her side, but he brushed her off.

“Hey, Doc. Are those blue stones all filled with holy water?”

“Yes. Next, we’ll boil the Grisalis in them and draw out its essence. I want it done by evening. But we lack red stones. Can you arrange more?”

“Do it,” he ordered, and a maid rushed off again. 

…Quite the difference to a certain someone.

Watching them leave, Enzo turned back to me.

“Doc, we’ll talk later, after Alex’s matter is settled. You’ll hear me out?”

“If it’s me you want, of course. About the lump, I presume?”

“That, among other things.”

He chatted casually, paying no attention to Annette.

“Doc, just what you’ve done already is worth fifty gold coins,” he said at last.

The meaning was clear.

Alex could die, and it would not matter.

If Marielle shared Enzo’s values, she would say the same.

I’d prefer to settle this with money, but…

That muscle-head’s life wasn’t worth that much.

This was about feelings.

And that was enough.

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