Ch. 8 - The Skilled Priest

The next day, I woke early.

Zoë was still sleeping soundly. I lifted the thin blanket to check her body and froze. 

New skin had already formed where the scabs had been.

The healing power of demi-humans is…

Truly superhuman. 

Their healing exceeded my abilities as a human. Naturally, their vitality must scale accordingly. No wonder Abby and Oni-girl kept such a close eye on me.

Dietrich Becker, as a human, was weak and easy to kill.

The fireplace offered nothing but the faint glow of smoldering embers. My clothes were still damp and unbearably stiff, but I endured it and dressed anyway.

We needed money. Food. Shelter. Spare clothing. 

Everything.

I yawned, sitting cross-legged on the cold floor.

That which is one divides into many.

I closed my eyes and began to meditate, praying to Mother Asclepia for her guidance. To become a full priest, one had to endure endless prayers and ceaseless training in the divine arts.

◇◆

When morning arrived, I regrouped with Abby and the others.

Oni-girl, Ashita, and cat-girl, Eva, both sported dark bruises around their eyes, panda-like.

Abby must have been the culprit.

Both girls glared at me, but then their eyes widened at Zoë, standing by my side. The Oni-girl muttered, envy dripping from her words.

“Zoë… did you take a bath? Even your clothes are clean.”

Zoë shot her a look of disgust and squeezed my hand.

Oni-girl’s envy flared into anger, and she barked at me.

“Di, that’s not fair! Why only you two?! Even Bee had to stay with us in the big room, and there’s no bath there!!”

“That’s just how it is. Didn’t I tell you? Di needs a quiet place to pray. He chose Zoë. And she serves him,” Abby replied.

“If it’s just that much, then—!”

The Oni-girl started to protest but bit off her words mid-sentence, swallowing her frustration.

I ignored her and asked Abby, “Have you eaten yet?”

“Nope. We were waiting for you to wake up.”

“I see. That was inconsiderate of me. Next time, don’t wait.”

“Di… you’re our treasure. We can’t just leave you be.”

I shrugged.

“So… are we heading to the church soup line again this morning?”

Abby’s expression stiffened, and she shook her head.

“No way. We’ll never take their handouts.”

Her words felt… strange. Not the kind of thing a hungry gang leader would say. There had to be a reason—and it was likely tied to the fact that I’m a priest.

After a while, we checked out of the inn, and we stopped at a street stall for a light breakfast.

The cloudy white soup was crowded with meatballs and dumpling-like bits. Not appetizing, but at least it didn’t stink like the church slop.

I gave thanks to Asclepia for the meal, traced the holy sign, and prayed with my eyes closed.

Around me, the kids clattered dishes and dug in noisily.

After about thirty seconds of meditation, a scream pierced my concentration.

I opened my eyes. One child was crying, blood dripping from the back of his hand, while Abby glared at him.

“Who told you to do that? Don’t screw around.”

It looked like Abby had stabbed his hand with a fork.

I sighed.

“Please… keep things quiet in the morning.”

Abby looked sheepish.

“S-sorry, Di. This idiot tried to steal your food…”

“He’s just hungry. Give him half of yours. And don’t injure him again.”

“What are you saying? You’re the one who insisted we all eat properly for strength.”

“I’m saying, don’t lose your temper over something so trivial. Words would’ve been enough.”

Abby turned away, sulking. She had no intention of conceding.

I almost began lecturing, “To be tolerant is to…” but gave up halfway—too much trouble.

I simply prayed that her stubbornness wouldn’t shorten her lifespan.

I was about to share my meal with the injured child, but his endless crying and apologies made it easier to eat it all myself.

I didn’t heal his wound—my divine power was reserved for more pressing matters, and demi-humans healed fast anyway.

◇◆

The day went smoothly.

By noon, I had treated five injured people and earned five silver coins—twice yesterday’s profit. Abby truly had a knack for negotiation.

But I’d also drained a vast amount of divine power, nearly collapsing under the strain. Even so, the Dietrich inside me insisted I could still push further.

“Abby, as planned. After a brief rest, I’ll see three more this afternoon. Can you manage?”

Abby's worried gaze flicked between the profit and my face.

“Di… It’s enough for today. You’ve done plenty. Rest.”

“No. I want a better room than that dump. Just three more. If you care about me, focus on tonight’s lodging.”

Zoë clung to me, crying from watching me push myself, and Abby kept pleading, but I pressed on. 

If I didn’t push my limits, I’d never catch up to Dietrich Becker, priest of Asclepia.

The day progressed smoothly, and our last patient came at last.

It was Alex—the big, muscular woman. Definitely not a normal human; ogre blood, and something else I couldn’t quite place.

Abby was terrified of her, but Alex just gave the same predatory grin.

“Yo, Di, right? Think you can help me again today?”

She called forth her companion, Annette, the elf-eared woman. Annette showed me her calf, where a healed wound had left behind a lump of scar tissue marring her skin.

I frowned.

“It’s already closed. But if you want the scar removed, that’ll be one silver coin.”

They hesitated, then agreed.

I was exhausted, half-delirious from sleep, but still prepared a diluted anesthetic from the green poison Annette carried. Using a sharpened throwing knife, I pricked around the lump and carefully opened it.

Thick black blood oozed out, followed by a white, jelly-like mass.

Annette gasped.

 “Wh-what is that? That came out of me?”

“Leftover debris from a poor healer. It turned into a benign tumor, but it could’ve caused trouble later. If it spread, it might’ve crystallized in your blood, stiffened joints, or even become cancerous.”

“Cancerous…?”

I was too tired to explain further.

“Forget it. Stay blissfully ignorant. That’s what I like about you.”

I healed the incision with divine power, an easy task, and declared it done.

But Alex and Annette didn’t leave. Instead, they cornered Abby, faces stern and unyielding, as if trying to strong-arm her into a deal.

Through my haze of exhaustion, I muttered, Adventurers… just like thugs.

They intimidated Abby so badly that she looked on the verge of tears.

“Custom demands gratitude. If you won’t repay properly, get lost. I don’t want your money. Don’t come back.”

My words made Alex frown, and pity filled her eyes. Annette shook her head desperately, trying to explain something. But I didn’t care.

The veil of sleep descended, and my last words fell as my mind slipped.

“Begone, ruffians! Mother Asclepia despises the lawless above all else…”

Then, darkness claimed me.

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