The Dark Fantasy Doctor Was Mistaken for a Saint - Chapter 31

WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: Haruto

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◈ The Dark Fantasy Doctor Was Mistaken for a Saint ◈

Chapter 31: The Firefly Prince (1)

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A few hours later.

Once the head butler came down in response to our message, we were able to head back up with him.

“Head Butler. Could we stop by the cathedral before we go?”

“Of course, Young Master. I’ll explain everything to the master and mistress. Take your time.”

As expected of the head butler.

I could use an excellent secretary like him myself.

On a whim, I turned to look at Eri.

Snore. Fwooo.

Eri was sleeping with the happiest expression in the world.

She was even using my thigh as a footrest, sleeping in perfect comfort.

What part of her was supposed to be an assistant?

‘Expecting Eri to become like the head butler... That really is too much.’

I couldn’t imagine Eri and the word delicate coexisting.

Shaking my head, I brushed aside the pointless thought.

Before long, the car arrived in front of the cathedral.

The moment the black limousine stopped, the holy knight guarding the entrance politely asked us a question.

“What brings you here, brother?”

“My companion is in poor condition because of a curse. Could you treat him?”

“Understood. Please lay the patient down over here.”

The apprentice priests promptly placed Otto on a stretcher.

Then we were led to a senior healing priest’s examination room.

They had assumed I was a noble because I had arrived by car.

‘Normally, senior priests would require reservations.’

Yet we were seated in a senior priest’s examination room immediately, without waiting in line or making a reservation.

It was sad, but even a religion that preached equality and love could not remain entirely indifferent to wealth and power.

We laid Otto on the bed.

Then I sat across a desk from the senior healing priest.

An older woman’s voice came from behind a veil.

“Hello, Young Master. What kind of curse was the patient exposed to?”

“The Curse of Pus only grazed him.”

Strictly speaking, it was a breakthrough infection, but explaining that would mean starting with the concept of vaccines, so I glossed over it.

If I started by explaining vaccines, I might end up being burned at the stake.

“Fortunately, the patient’s own resistance was high enough to avoid a direct hit. It seems he only has severe cold symptoms, muscle aches, and a high fever.”

“Has any pus formed?”

“It has only been a few hours since he was exposed, so I don’t believe so.”

“Understood.”

The priest continued her questioning.

“Have you checked his urine?”

“The color was normal.”

“What about his breathing?”

“I didn’t hear any wheezing or wet sounds.”

“You have organized his symptoms well. Are you perhaps aspiring to become a healing priest?”

“Yes.”

More accurately, I was a doctor.

“Based on what you have told me, I don’t think any special curse-lifting magic will be necessary. Basic healing magic should restore him quickly.”

“Thank you, Priest.”

“Then let us move to the treatment room.”

The senior priest, Otto on his stretcher, and I headed to the treatment room.

Creak.

When the heavy door opened, a blindingly white space greeted us.

The marble tiles covering the walls, ceiling, and floor were all immaculate.

Not a speck of dust or the tiniest stain marred the room’s perfect whiteness.

The faint scent of an oil meant to calm the mind tickled my nose.

“Lay the patient down here.”

Beyond the altar the senior priest pointed to stood a huge Y-shaped cross.

A statue of a woman draped in thin cloth hung from it with both arms outstretched.

Clear water flowed from the statue’s feet.

Thin streams began where the nails had pierced it, ran over the tops of its feet, then followed grooves in the floor to gather at the center of a magic circle.

‘Mercy, sacrifice, purity, purification... and harmony.’

Every object and arrangement in the room had been attuned toward one single-minded miracle: healing.

‘Divine magic is magic, after all.’

Feng shui really was subtly important.

Especially in a world where even the sun could not be seen.

With practiced movements, the senior priest laid Otto beneath the Y-shaped statue, clasped her hands, and slowly began to pray.

I stepped back so I would not interfere with the treatment.

“O you who bear the fruit of suffering upon the branch of mercy...”

As divine power flowed from the priest’s fingertips into Otto’s body, his ragged breathing visibly began to settle.

Scratch, scratch.

I took a notebook and pen from my pocket and wrote down the priest’s chants.

‘Could I find some inspiration here?’

In the end, divine magic was an extension of magic.

Only its resource, divine power, was different. The importance of symbols and chants remained the same.

Yet for some reason, this world had no magic that could heal people.

Miracles that healed people were instead concentrated in divine magic.

That was why I studied the symbols of divine magic whenever I had the chance.

Perhaps I could recreate those miracles with pure magic rather than divine magic.

Of course, I had made no progress in years.

Scratch, scratch.

The quiet treatment room was filled only with the sound of my pen moving across paper and the senior priest’s prayers.

“Trying to confine a miracle within the framework of reason. What an audacious idea.”

At the unfamiliar voice that suddenly came from behind me, I instinctively flinched.

‘Fuck, that startled me.’

Fortunately, the acting I had practiced since I was four kept me from reflexively swearing.

I turned around.

An old man stood there, looking down at me with a coat draped over his shoulders like a cape.

He had a dandy air about him, with a large scar visible beyond the eyepatch covering his right eye.

His remaining left eye was fixed on my notebook.

I closed the notebook I had been writing in and spoke.

“Are you...?”

“Shh.”

The old man raised his index finger to my lips.

He gestured with his chin toward the space beneath the Y-shaped statue.

“The priest is in the middle of performing a miracle. Let us keep our voices down so we do not disturb her.”

I nodded.

Then I lowered my voice as much as possible and whispered in a mosquito-like murmur.

“Have you come to see the priest?”

“Ah. I stopped by to collect some holy water. It is unusual for a senior priest to be working at this hour. I did not expect there to be someone ahead of me.”

The old man answered in an equally secretive whisper.

“Holy water?”

“Yes. Like you, I have a great interest in divine magic. I have some use for it in my research.”

I looked the old man up and down.

For someone here to buy holy water, his clothing and air seemed far removed from faith.

And from his saying he was like me...

“Are you a mage?”

“Hmm? Wouldn’t most people first ask whether I’m a spellcaster rather than a mage?”

“There are bloodstains on your sleeve. I thought you were someone who preferred the field to a laboratory. Was I mistaken?”

“Heh heh. Not only audacious, but a clever little spellcaster as well.”

The old man’s gaze moved to the notebook in my hand.

“In that case, I must apologize. Not realizing you were a spellcaster, I committed the discourtesy of looking into your grimoire.”

To a spellcaster, a grimoire was no different from life itself.

Looking through one without permission was an insult that could, in the worst case, lead to a duel to the death between spellcasters.

“As one who walks the same path of magic, let me apologize.”

“It is fine. It is not quite enough to call it a grimoire.”

Shaking my head, I opened the notebook again.

“If you wish to see it, please feel free. It is only notes for now.”

“Hmm...”

The old mage rubbed the stubble on his chin.

After humming thoughtfully for a while, he spoke again.

“Even a draft grimoire is still a grimoire. Ideas are as precious as discoveries themselves.”

“Thank you for saying so.”

“Allow me to apologize properly. As it happens, I am conducting research similar to yours. Would showing you my grimoire be sufficient apology?”

Oh.

What unexpected luck.

Faced with this sudden stroke of fortune, I accepted without hesitation.

“Would you permit this foolish young spellcaster to glimpse an elder’s wisdom for a moment?”

“Heh heh. You are a spellcaster friend more mature than your age. Very well. I will give you my grimoire as well.”

He took a notebook from his pocket and handed it to me.

“This is...?”

“Keep it. It is a copy of my grimoire. It will disappear after a week, so copy it somewhere before then.”

I rubbed the notebook the old mage had handed me.

Only then did I feel the faintest trace of mana at my fingertips.

It meant the notebook had been magically copied.

‘Good lord...’

I looked up at the old man in surprise.

Unless he was an unusual person, he would not carry copies of his grimoire around in advance. He must have copied it just now.

The problem was that I had not noticed any chant or magical formula.

‘Then...’

Goosebumps rose all over my body.

The old man’s rank as I sensed it was Rank 1.

Naturally, I had considered that his actual rank might be higher, but perhaps it was far, far higher.

Unable to hide my shock, I froze in place.

The old man smiled kindly and lightly stroked my hair.

“Do not be so startled, junior. It is only a small trick brought by age.”

“I have learned much from you, Elder.”

“Yes.”

The old man, still stroking my hair, murmured.

“... Good eyes. Fitting for your name, they are clear and deep, like the night sky.”

What?

I nearly asked without thinking.

The night sky?

Could the night sky be clear in a world where even the sun could not be seen?

That metaphor seemed a little wrong.

More importantly, I had never told him my name.

As if he knew what I was thinking, or perhaps did not, the old man merely smiled meaningfully.

The subtle tension between us ended when the senior priest finished her prayer.

“... When the branch’s tears reach the root, new leaves shall sprout from it.”

The senior priest lowered her hands after the final prayer.

The soft white light that had lingered in the treatment room faded as well.

I immediately checked Otto’s condition.

His ragged breathing had become steady, like a baby’s.

“Phew...”

The senior priest, who had been praying beneath the statue, also let out a long breath.

As she rose and turned toward us, she spotted the one-eyed old man standing behind me. She flinched in surprise and immediately bowed at the waist.

“Oh, Elder. Today was the day you were coming. Please wait just a moment.”

The senior priest welcomed the uninvited old man without showing the slightest displeasure.

“I think I only need three bottles of holy water today.”

“Yes, I will prepare them right away.”

The senior priest began collecting holy water at the foot of the Y-shaped statue.

Meanwhile, the old man took several silver coins from his pocket and placed them on the altar.

“A donation.”

“Thank you as always, Elder. Ah, but first let me check the patient and speak with you again.”

“My apologies for interrupting.”

Afterward, the senior priest explained Otto’s precautions to me.

To summarize, they were as follows.

- If he started coughing again after getting home, he was to return to the cathedral immediately.

- Magic would not work well for a few days because of the divine power remaining in his body, but it would all dissipate within two days, so there was no need to worry.

- On the way home, he was not to eat anything strange or pick up strange things, such as dolls.

After making sure I understood the priest’s instructions, I took Otto back to the car.

Before leaving the treatment room, I met the old mage’s eyes.

Wink.

The old man winked with his left eye.

“Farewell. My name is written in the notebook. Let us hope we meet again, should fate bring us together.”

“Thank you, Elder.”

I gave the old man a deep bow and left the treatment room.

Then, just before getting into the car again, I suddenly remembered something.

‘Huh? Now that I think about it...’

During our conversation just now...

I could not remember ever seeing that mage open his mouth.

* * *

“Elder, what in the world did you discuss with that young master that made you so pleased?”

“Hehe. It is a secret.”

After Julian left, two elderly people sat facing one another in the senior priest’s examination room.

The old mage whom she called Elder crossed his legs and spoke.

“Head Priest...”

“I am not the Head Priest anymore. It has been five years since I handed the position over to my junior. How can you still call me that?”

“Hmm? My apologies. Once you get old, five years and yesterday begin to feel much the same.”

Heh heh.

The old mage chuckled heartily before continuing.

“In any case, Head Priest. How are the black mages these days?”

“Their methods have changed. Rather than proselytizing as they once did, they scatter their grimoires everywhere to make it easier for people to begin studying black magic.”

“Are they difficult to catch?”

“Even the Church cannot prevent people from studying on their own.”

“Hmm...”

“Still, because they are self-taught, their quality has declined compared to when they learned through apprenticeships.”

“But their numbers cannot be ignored. I ask you, recover as many black mages’ grimoires as you can.”

“Understood, Elder.”

The senior priest bowed deeply.

Then the old mage recalled something and added,

“Ah, one more thing. Do not recover the grimoire of that child who just left.”

“Pardon? The one you gave him?”

“Not that one. I mean the black mage’s grimoire I just told you to recover. He has one on him belonging to a particularly blood-soaked bastard.”

“... What?!”

The senior priest’s eyes widened as large as lamps.

“Then we must immediately send knights to confiscate it...! No, Elder, why did you let him go when you knew? You even gave him your own magical teachings!”

The old man burst into loud laughter at the horrified senior priest.

“There is something I need to confirm. Trust me and leave him be for now.”

“Elder...”

“I ask this of you. Do not worry. If it seems the child will stray, I will stop him at once.”

The old mage turned toward the examination room window.

Far in the distance, he could see a black limousine climbing toward Sanctum Hill.

“Youth is a wonderful thing. Is it not one of the joys of our remaining years to watch such fresh ideas?”

* * *

Meanwhile, at the same time, inside the limousine returning to the estate.

By the light rocking through the car window, Julian carefully opened the first page of the copied notebook the old mage had given him.

‘The name is... Fitz? That is unusual.’

Julian committed the name written in the notebook to memory.