WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: Haruto
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
◈ The Dark Fantasy Doctor Was Mistaken for a Saint ◈
Chapter 102: Faith Reassembled (2)
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* * *
Proving the existence of bacteria was never going to be simple.
You think all I had to do was click a microscope and be done with it?
If it were that easy, they would have discovered them long ago.
This world did have microscopes, inadequate though they were.
There was a reason I had kept putting off the discovery of bacteria in a world like that.
First, the microscopes themselves had serious problems.
When people from the twenty-first century hear “microscope,” they imagine images in at least 1080p.
But one could not expect that level of technology in a dark fantasy world.
The image quality of this era was still 240p, so bad it made curses rise from the depths of my soul.
You could not tell whether you were looking at bacteria, light glare, or a smudge.
The second problem was staining.
You could not discover bacteria by their shape.
They were transparent by nature.
Poor microscope quality combined with transparent bacteria.
Those two things together made bacterial research impossible, even for me.
‘That was why I needed a way to improve microscope resolution and a staining method...’
Only recently had those conditions been met.
The methods my parents had developed to observe microorganisms held the answer.
‘To think they pulled off a magical strongman act without even using a microscope.’
Among divine spells was one that detected life force.
As the holy knights who had carried out rescues during the overpass collapse had shown, it was useful in many ways, from saving lives to detecting assassins.
My parents had slightly modified that magic and used it to detect the faint life force of microorganisms.
I planned to modify this divine magic.
I would use it to compensate for the poor resolution and light glare, allowing me to observe bacteria.
And for that, I called my master.
“Master, I have found a research subject for the first time in a while.”
Help me, Great Sage-aemon.
“I would like to modify divine magic into ordinary magic. I need your help to do so.”
I was an expert in black magic.
When it came to other kinds of magic, I was hopelessly ignorant.
That was why I asked my master.
Before meeting me, my master had apparently spent time taking divine magic apart and examining it from every angle, so I expected an eager acceptance.
“Was divine magic not ultimately made upon the framework you devised, Master? I would like you to modify it into a form spellcasters and healers can use.”
I made my request while offering ginger biscuits, my master’s favorite.
But the response I received was completely unexpected.
“Hmm. No.”
“?!”
Good heavens.
Was the topic I had brought simply not interesting enough?
Just as I was about to think that...
“Why would I research five-hundred-year-old magic again?”
My master made it clear that was not the issue.
“The Magic Tower of November has already improved magic from that branch. They know it better than I do now.”
The Magic Tower of November.
It was a Magic Tower that researched observation and communication magic.
I had thought its main subjects of research were newspapers with moving pictures, long-distance communications crystals, telepathy spells, and the like.
“The Magic Tower of November has magic like that too?”
“The priests’ life-detection spell branched off from the Beast’s Eye sorcery of a thousand years ago. There is no need to imitate it. This is the original.”
Beast’s Eye was not merely magic that imitated an animal’s vision.
Like a hawk picking out a rabbit from among countless living things far below, it was closer to a filtering spell that selected a designated target.
‘I had no idea something like that already existed.’
It was not my specialty, so I had not known.
I knew the fundamentals of magic and advanced black magic. It was only natural that I was ignorant of other fields.
“I will put you in contact with your senior fellow disciple. Discuss it with them and adapt it into the magic you need.”
“Could it let me see things humans cannot see?”
“Like the eyes of bees or birds?”
Things were working out more easily than expected.
In fact, they were working out even better than I had hoped.
Animals could see things humans could not.
If magic could reproduce that, perhaps even an infrared microscope was not entirely impossible.
“Thank you, Master.”
“But...”
My master stroked their beard.
“If you have suddenly taken an interest in magic from the Beast’s Eye lineage, does that mean there is something you want to discover?”
I nodded.
I had even prepared a lie for this.
“By chance, I was able to recover my parents’ research journals recently. While reading them, I found something strange and wanted to investigate it more closely.”
Just as with Viagra.
A discovery needed an appropriate story behind it to feel natural.
Like creating an aphrodisiac while developing heart medicine.
Or developing malaria medicine after witnessing the horrors of the South.
Every discovery and invention needed a fitting narrative.
So I had prepared one for discovering bacteria as well.
“My parents’ research journals recorded parasites in great detail, but I kept noticing creatures that seemed strange to classify as parasites.”
This time, I had decided to push the story that I had discovered bacteria by accident while researching parasites.
“That is why I need those spells, so that I can observe parasites more clearly.”
“Para... sites?”
But my master’s reaction was strange.
“Did you say you wanted to examine parasites?”
“Yes. Is there a problem?”
“Heh. Hmm...”
My master let out a thoughtful sound and glanced at me.
After pondering something deeply, my master shook their head.
“Yes... I decided to trust you...”
My master muttered something to themself, then raised their head as though reaching a decision.
“Black magic once had something called parasitic magic.”
“...Once had?”
“Yes. Its lineage has almost died out now.”
On the day the Magic Tower of the Thirteenth Month was destroyed, only three kinds of magic remained in the world.
Curse magic that caused plagues or misfortune.
Hypnosis magic that controlled minds.
Necromancy that controlled the souls of the dead.
But the Magic Tower of the Thirteenth Month had originally held many more specialized departments.
“Parasitic magic uses parasites as catalysts. It was also a field of magic newly established only a few years before the Magic Tower of the Thirteenth Month was destroyed.”
The research had barely begun before my master destroyed it, so it was apparently embarrassing to even call it a department.
“Yet during its brief history, parasitic magic caused a disaster unlike anything other black magic had done.”
“What disaster?”
“Do you know about the fall of the Western Knight Kingdom three hundred years ago?”
“Yes. It was destroyed by Pale Walkers.”
Pale Walkers.
Zombies from another world.
Yes, those kinds of zombies.
They ran, infected people through bites, possessed a surprising degree of intelligence, and sometimes mutants with tentacles appeared among them.
‘Come to think of it, if they run, should they not be called Pale Runners instead of Pale Walkers?’
That was not important right now.
Naturally, ghouls could not compare to Pale Walkers in terms of danger.
Ghouls did not infect people through bites.
Mutants did not appear often, either.
And their upper limit could not compare to that of Pale Walkers.
That was why soldiers barely reacted when a ghoul appeared within a city, but a knightly order mobilized if even one Pale Walker was found.
“Parasitic magic created those Pale Walkers.”
“What...?”
“This is forbidden knowledge, so I did not teach it to you.”
What?
So these zombies were infected by parasites, not viruses?
I had never known that.
People believed Pale Walkers simply arose naturally, like ghouls.
But they had not arisen naturally at all. They were human creations.
“They were the work of the Magic Tower of the Thirteenth Month. Because of them, the West remains a land of Pale Walkers and undead. That is why I burned away every trace of parasitic magic.”
It had been a relatively new department at the time, and there had been few people who could be called its successors, so eliminating it had not been difficult.
“Even now, black mages are trying to restore the lineage of parasitic mages, but it does not seem to be going well.”
“Is it that difficult?”
“Very.”
My master nodded.
“Do you know what happened to the black mages who made the Pale Walkers?”
“Did you not punish them, Master?”
“No. They lost control and became Pale Walkers themselves.”
Ah.
“Parasitic magic cannot be controlled. Parasites have an instinct to spread themselves, so they attack casters who are not infected with parasites.”
The instant I heard that, a solution came to mind.
Then why not infect yourself with parasites too?
But I shook my head.
What use would that be? You would just die.
The only possible method would be...
‘Drinking potions or periodically casting Heal on yourself to endure the parasites while spreading the infection around.’
Of course, that was not something a person should do.
No one but an utter lunatic would do that.
“Furthermore, divine magic is the only way to make parasites grow quickly, but do you think priests would permit that? Parasitic mages cannot even conduct research in this age.”
Before the Magic Tower of the Thirteenth Month became taboo, parasitic mages had apparently researched parasites with the cooperation of healer priests.
But now that it was forbidden, almost no one could study parasites without the healer priests noticing.
Except healer priests, of course.
“Of course.”
“...”
I met my master’s single eye in silence.
That alone was enough to tell me why my master had told me this.
“My parents studied them to cure parasites. I am only carrying on their will.”
“I know. Your parents said the same thing.”
“What?”
My parents had met my master too?
“Researching parasites is black magic research. Naturally, it must be reported to the Magic Administration Office. I handled your parents’ eligibility examination.”
My master nodded calmly.
“Come to think of it, your eyes resemble your father’s.”
“...People often tell me that I resemble my mother.”
“Ahem. I have met too many people, so I mixed them up.”
To a Great Sage like my master, my parents must have been only two among countless geniuses.
“They said this back then too. One must understand taboos in order not to cross them.”
“That is right a hundred times over, Master.”
My master was not the type to block off all taboos entirely.
If that were the case, my master would have dropped a meteor on my parents the moment they mentioned researching parasites.
And there was no way my master would have enjoyed helping develop a vaccine, a plague curse in all but name.
“Still, be careful. They fell because of the arrogance that they would remain clean forever.”
“I will remember that.”
“Good. As long as you remember that, continue your parasite research.”
“Thank you, Master. Then when should I contact my senior fellow disciple?”
“The day after tomorrow. They will not yet know that you are my disciple, so deal with them as the Black Saint.”
“Understood.”
My master looked after this disciple right until the end.
“And... if you discover something new, call for me first.”
“I certainly will.”
I had intended to do so anyway.
What would ultimately be discovered would not be parasites, but bacteria.
Once bacterial research was complete, the academic world would probably be turned upside down.
‘Curse magic that had vaguely used filthy or ill-omened things as catalysts will suddenly soar in value.’
A plague curser carrying bacteria in clear water...
Wow. How would anyone deal with that?
‘I should tell Master before anyone discovers them.’
For now, I had no choice but to remain silent because this was a time when I was not supposed to know about bacteria.
But when the time came, my master would be the first to hear.
I did not want to be misunderstood and end up like the Magic Tower of the Thirteenth Month.
* * *
A few days passed.
On days when I had lectures, I was at the academy.
On days when I did not, I had Pericia stand in for me and became Director Schun.
I traveled between the academy territory and the capital, playing two identities.
While I was researching staining reagents in D-4 Sector, Simeon spoke to me.
“Excuse me, Saint.”
“Yes, go ahead.”
“Could we increase the dose of my medicine?”
“No, Brother.”
“Ugh...”
Simeon wilted at my firm response.
Perhaps Simeon’s stomach was beginning to ache, because he rubbed it gently.
I was currently treating Simeon for parasites.
As one might expect from a pilgrim, Simeon was carrying every kind of parasite imaginable.
What strange things had Simeon been eating?
“Masters Schnabel used much more...”
“They used larger doses, which was why the toxicity was so severe.”
My parents had used male fern as one of their antiparasitic medicines.
Male fern certainly worked.
It killed parasites very effectively.
Its only minor side effects were vision damage, coma, and muscle weakness.
‘And they even used it incorrectly.’
Perhaps because divine magic could fix injuries in seconds, this world had no concept of treating someone slowly over several days.
People believed that a potion should cure them within an hour, and if it took several days, they assumed the first dose of potion had simply been insufficient.
‘It was not for nothing that Wangcho swallowed all his gout medicine at once.’
There was a reason I only allowed properly trained healers to use medicine.
Quinine, insulin, and all other medicines.
There were still too many patients who thought it perfectly normal to use a week’s supply in one day.
My parents were no exception to that common sense.
‘When I heard they used that much male fern, I was horrified too.’
The Schnabel couple’s parasite treatment was simple.
1. Administer enough male fern to leave the patient half-comatose.
2. Quickly cast Heal on the person with one foot in the grave.
3. The next day, draw out the dead parasites with a diarrhea potion. Ta-da! Treatment complete!
‘They are my parents, but this is far too macho...’
Cutting off an arm as quickly as possible and regenerating it was the standard treatment, after all.
My parents were bold people too.
‘No wonder it never became the standard parasite treatment...’
If you mishandled the balancing act, the patient died immediately.
One mistake meant not a coma, but a direct trip to the afterlife.
So healers who tried this treatment before learning it from my parents must have killed innocent patients.
As such cases piled up, people must have called the treatment complete nonsense.
‘They were not wrong, but... it was too extreme...’
Quinine would kill someone too if administered that way.
But the solution to that problem was surprisingly simple.
Divide one day’s dose across a week and administer it gradually.
Someone might ask how nobody had thought of something so simple, but...
‘I wonder that too. Why had no one thought of it?’
It was the same with damage-control surgery and tapering treatment.
This age, brimming with boldness and romance, differed far too much from modern common sense.
Enough digression.
“Simeon, it has been about a week now. Are parasites still coming out in your stool?”
“They are still coming out...”
“Those parasites are remarkably tenacious.”
The drawback was that the medicine was somewhat weak.
Male fern was so toxic that reducing it to a level that would not harm people also weakened its effect on parasites.
That was why a good medicine was not a strong one. It was one that selectively killed only its intended target.
‘Ah... I miss twenty-first-century antiparasitics...’
They killed only parasites and could complete treatment in three days.
Adjusting the dosage of primitive antiparasitic medicine was far too difficult.
“Saint, I am fine. If we increase the dose and I just think of it as sleeping for a while...”
“Simeon, side effects are not something to accept. They are something to avoid.”
Honestly.
This dark fantasy world was so full of boldness.
Simeon treated a coma as if it were just sleeping for a few days.
“I will continue treating you with male fern until I discover a new medicine.”
And the current parasite was not the only one.
Judging from the symptoms, there seemed to be other parasites besides those in Simeon’s intestines.
Simeon’s body was quite literally a treasure trove of parasites.
“You lived too dangerously beyond the wall. It is a miracle that you are still alive.”
“Ha ha...”
Simeon gave a dry laugh.
“I will never do that again.”
“You had better not. I treated you, after all.”
Every time, I felt the same thing.
The people of this age differed from me far too much in common sense.
Footnotes:
“Help me, Great Sage-aemon” parodies the Japanese catchphrase “Help me, Doraemon!”
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