The Dark Fantasy Doctor Was Mistaken for a Saint - Chapter 48

WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: Haruto

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◈ The Dark Fantasy Doctor Was Mistaken for a Saint ◈

Chapter 48: Entering High Society (1)

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* * *

A month had passed since I formed new connections with the children.

As always, the world had turned white this year.

Beyond the window was nothing but a white world.

Outside, snow fell without pause, thick enough that there was hardly anywhere to step.

Inside the warm room, where the fireplace crackled softly, I held my teacup beneath my nose.

I used the sound of the burning logs as ASMR.

‘It should be arriving about now.’

As I inhaled the fragrance that tickled my nose, I recalled the telegram I had sent to the Church four days ago.

It contained the GIK protocol, an insulin-based treatment for heart disease.

‘This world still lacks heart medicine.’

At present, digitalis was the only medicine in this era with a heart-protective effect.

There was no nitroglycerin, no diuretics, no beta blockers.

In a world like this, even GIK treatment was welcome.

‘I need to develop the other medicines soon.’

Of course, GIK treatment had been removed from myocardial infarction guidelines in the twenty-first century.

It did protect the heart, but having to administer an IV infusion every time was far too inconvenient.

When technology had advanced enough to manage heart disease by simply taking medicine, why would anyone need an infusion?

As a result, GIK treatment had become something used only before heart surgery.

‘Come to think of it, thoracic surgeons and emergency physicians were the only ones who used it in the twenty-first century.’

Internal medicine had plenty of better drugs, so they did not particularly use GIK treatment.

Thoracic surgery did not have many treatment options, though.

Lucky them.

I was mulling over my twenty-first-century medical knowledge when I heard a knock.

Knock, knock.

The sound pulled my consciousness from a twenty-first-century general hospital back to the reality of this fusion-punk world.

“Young master, a letter has arrived.”

“Come in.”

The door opened, and Wilhelm, the head butler, entered carrying a silver tray.

A single letter rested on it.

“It arrived through the Merkuer Trading Company.”

“Merkuer?”

I eagerly checked the letter.

Had the Church already sent a reply?

It was possible.

Director Schun had stacked up so many favorability points with the Church that they were rather fond of me.

‘Perhaps the protocol will be in place before spring arrives... Ah.’

But as soon as I saw the envelope on the tray, I could not hide my disappointment.

It was not a letter from the Church.

The Church normally sealed its letters with wax embossed with the seal of each branch.

However, the letter on Wilhelm’s tray was sealed with string rather than wax.

‘Who sent this?’

Since it had been sent with string rather than wax, it was not from a noble.

Then it was either Wangcho or one of the scholarship students...

I checked the sender written on the envelope.

Sender: Ayla & Valeria

‘Ah.’

It was from the Ayla and Valeria sisters.

Our potential saint, or the heroine of a romance fantasy.

And her older sister.

‘They already sent a letter.’

The corners of my mouth rose on their own.

Before the heavy snowfall began, I had sent bills of exchange to the scholarship students to help pay for heating.

Unlike Limbus Pit, Civitas Square had decent heating facilities, so few people froze to death.

That did not mean fuel costs were not a burden.

So I had sent the students a small amount for heating, along with a letter telling them not to catch colds during winter.

This seemed to be a thank-you letter in response.

‘This is why people play Daddy Long-Legs.’

I carefully untied the string around the letter.

When I pulled out the letter, something slipped out with it.

It was a pressed flower.

The edges had faded slightly brown, but it had white petals.

‘A daisy.’

What a precious thing.

In a world without sunlight, sending someone a pressed flower like this was a special gesture.

Even more so if they had grown it themselves.

I placed the pressed flower in a corner of my desk, then unfolded the letter.

======================

Dear Director Schun,

Hello, Director.

I am Ayla, one of the scholarship students.

You said I could write to you casually, so I gathered my courage and wrote this letter.

Thanks to the money you sent, I think we will be able to spend this winter warmly.

I usually caught a cold before the snow stopped falling every year.

I am glad I will not have to worry about that this year.

Thank you very much.

The flower enclosed is a daisy I grew myself.

I put it in a pot by the window and watered it every morning.

I wanted to give it to you, so I pressed it nicely before sending it.

I hope you like it.

Oh, right. Mom said that when I write a letter like this, I should also tell you what I have been studying, so I will write about that here.

These days, I am preparing for my second year in the seminary’s middle-school division and studying the history of theology in advance.

I originally wanted to study to become a healer, but Mom says it would be pointless if I do not awaken divine power, so she is making me study history instead.

I think Mom believes I might not awaken divine power.

But I am confident that I will...

Do you think so too, Director?

I would be grateful if you could tell me what you think.

I think Mom would listen if it came from you.

I will end this letter here.

Please stay healthy too, Director!

Sincerely,

Ayla

P.S. My sister wanted to write a letter too, so I attached hers below.

======================

The handwriting changed beneath Ayla’s words.

Unlike Ayla’s round handwriting, this one was sharp and neat.

It was Valeria’s writing.

======================

Dear Director Schun,

This is Valeria.

First, thank you for the magic-stone lamp you sent.

Thanks to it, I can study without worrying about candle wax.

When candles are lit for a long time, wax runs down and dirties the desk. More importantly, the smell of burning gives me headaches.

The magic-stone lamp has none of those problems, so it is much more comfortable to study with.

Mother was pleased too, since it puts less strain on her eyes.

I am now preparing for my middle-school graduation examination and high-school entrance examination.

My graduation assignment is to submit a report analyzing examples of treaties concluded by the Empire and surrounding kingdoms, but it is more complicated than I expected.

However, thanks to the scholarship, I was able to buy textbooks and save the time I would have spent standing in line to borrow them from the library.

I will study more with the time I have saved.

I will become someone worthy of your expectations.

Sincerely,

Valeria

=======================

I put down the letter.

From their handwriting to its contents, it was clear just how opposite the sisters’ personalities were.

Ayla’s letter practically dripped with an F’s sensitivity, while Valeria’s made a T’s rationality unmistakably clear.

Neither was particularly bad.

I simply found the difference interesting.

I placed their letters on the desk and thought for a moment.

‘Did Daddy Long-Legs write letters back in the original?’

I did not know. I had never been especially diligent about reading classical literature.

Still, I knew web novel conventions well enough.

‘It is probably best to write back, right?’

If you did not, the genre always seemed to drift toward misery.

I picked up my pen and began writing.

The contents were nothing special.

I encouraged Ayla, telling her that she would definitely awaken divine power. I also told Valeria that if she needed more materials, I would send even difficult-to-obtain sources.

Naturally, I included reminders not to study too late and to be careful of catching a cold.

I folded the letter and melted wax over a candle.

Red wax dripped onto the envelope, and I pressed my seal into it.

At the center of the crow design was “Schn,” written in a hurried scrawl.

I had originally wanted to use Schnabel.

But I could not fit all the letters onto the seal, so I had settled for Schn.

Because of that, more people knew me as Doctor Schun than Doctor Schnabel.

There was not much difference between the two, so I did not bother correcting them.

‘Now, shall I send this?’

There was something important here.

I had to send it through the trading company rather than personally.

That was because, in people’s eyes, Director Schun was someone who had risen from nothing through hard work.

At least, that was how the scholarship students saw me.

That was why the children had hope.

They believed that if they worked hard, they could become like him.

That they could be judged by the path they walked, not where they were born.

There was no reason to let those children learn that I had been born a noble and had not needed to struggle quite that much.

‘An idol should remain an idol to stay beautiful.’

Of course, the conventions of a misunderstanding story would probably take care of most problems on their own.

Still, I intended to hide my identity as much as possible so I could motivate the children.

Of course, enjoying the Daddy Long-Legs act was part of it too.

After carefully folding the letter, I rang the bell on my desk.

Ding.

“You called for me?”

“Please send this letter through the trading company. The recipient is written on the envelope.”

“Understood.”

“Oh, and.”

I winked at the head butler.

“This is a secret from Freya.”

“...Ha ha. Indeed, the young lady may become jealous. Understood.”

The head butler accepted the letter.

His wrinkled hands carefully gripped the envelope before he left the room.

* * *

Dinner time arrived.

Despite the blizzard outside, House Nihirit’s dining room was as cozy and warm as ever.

The entire family had gathered at the table.

At the head sat Father Hendel, with Mother Linie beside him.

Across from them were Freya, Eri, and me.

And in a high chair, our youngest, Fried, waved his arms around.

Tonight’s menu was venison stew, roasted potatoes, and winter squash soup.

I had not cooked it.

I had been busy with research lately, so I had not had time to cook in the evenings.

“Hmm...”

After checking the menu, Father narrowed his brow.

He kept shooting sidelong glances at me.

“...Did you not say venison had come in, Julian?”

What was that supposed to mean?

What was he trying to say?

Surely he was not disappointed that I had not cooked?

‘No. That cannot be it.’

Mother and Father both did not particularly like me cooking.

They said it would count against me on the noble marriage market.

So Father could not have been looking forward to my cooking.

Besides, I had been secretly slipping into the kitchen lately, so there was no way he would know I had cooked before.

“Have you been that busy lately?”

“Yes, I have.”

“...I see.”

He looked strangely disappointed.

But I decided it was probably just my imagination.

The meal continued.

For a while, only the sound of utensils rang through the room.

“Julian.”

It was when I had finished about half my soup.

Father spoke.

“How old are you this year?”

It was an abrupt question.

But fathers’ questions were often abrupt, so I answered without panic.

“I am fifteen, Father.”

“Fifteen. Yes. Once the snow stops and the new year passes, you will be sixteen.”

I could predict where this was going the moment I heard it.

Even as I guessed the destination of his words, I wiped my mouth with a napkin as though I had not.

“And after another year passes, you will be seventeen.”

“...”

“When that time comes, you should start looking for a match.”

I knew it.

Nobles of the Empire generally got engaged at seventeen.

It was not as if some child-protection law stopped them from doing it earlier.

This was a world where children worked in factories. What children’s rights could there be?

It was simply the most suitable timing.

Noble children usually began learning magic at twelve.

It took three years to master the basics of magic, making them fifteen.

Then they spent a year learning arcane magic and turned sixteen.

But if they became engaged immediately, they would have no time to make themselves known in high society.

So they were given a year to promote themselves, then became engaged at seventeen.

Some became engaged later depending on their circumstances.

Still, most nobles got engaged at seventeen.

“I know it may come as a surprise. I was engaged to your birth mother when I was your age.”

“...”

I nearly choked the moment I heard that.

A piece of forgotten backstory had resurfaced.

Father Hendel’s first love had not been Mother Linie, but my birth mother.

However, Father had failed to learn arcane magic and could not inherit a title, so the engagement had fallen through.

My birth mother had been a healer-priest, in other words, a cleric, and did not hold a noble title.

If the two of them had married, they would have been reduced to commoners. So they had each taken another path.

...But was that something he should say over dinner?

I did not think Mother Linie would like it.

I cautiously watched Mother, who sat beside Father.

Contrary to my expectation, her reaction was calm.

“Julian, do not worry. I am all right now. Your father chose me in the end, so why should the past matter?”

Well.

You did not think that way when I was young.

...I almost said that.

“Ahem. I said something unnecessary. In any case, at your age, should you not soon begin preparing for an engagement?”

“Yes, that is true.”

“Especially if you are to enter another house as a live-in son-in-law, this period will be more important for you than anyone.”

That was true.

Again, sixteen was the age when the names of noble children in this world began to seriously circulate on the marriage market.

If I did not actively market myself at this point, I could later be married off to a spinster who had missed her chance.

‘The good ones get taken early.’

There was a reason nobles did not wait longer and became engaged at seventeen.

Still, I did not have any particular dissatisfaction or anxiety about being sent off as a live-in son-in-law.

I still had a year.

All I had to do was achieve enough in that time that I would not need to enter another house as a live-in son-in-law.

And even if I did, I might meet someone I was compatible with.

There was no reason to see an engagement as entirely bad already.

‘I do not need to be so anxious until then.’

I was peacefully chewing over that self-comfort when someone spoke.

“That makes no sense.”

Clack!

Freya forcefully set down her fork.

“My brother cured demon disease. Why should he have to bow his head and enter another family?”

“Freya.”

“I do not understand. Brother is not someone who should become a mere live-in son-in-law. Should curing demon disease not be enough to establish a new house?”

Freya’s ice-clear eyes turned toward Father.

Father gave a bitter smile.

Then he suddenly looked at Mother as if seeking her permission.

Mother nodded and spoke in his place.

“Freya, I understand why you are angry. But this is noble society. Your father was the same.”

“Father too...?”

Father nodded with a bitter expression beside Mother.

“Your father entered House Nihirit as a live-in son-in-law as well. Before becoming engaged to me, he was a wandering knight of some repute. He reached Rank 3 through battle aura alone.”

“What? Father did?”

“Yes.”

Mother continued explaining.

“Freya, if people could become nobles solely through merit or achievement, there would likely be many knights in the Empire who could become nobles. But they cannot. Do you know why?”

“I... do not.”

“A noble title requires two things beyond ability. Continuity and growth potential.”

That was right.

That was the key.

Noble privilege arose from obligation.

A house had to protect the Empire from generation to generation, so the ability to protect it had to be passed on to the next generation.

That was continuity.

And simply passing it on was not enough. It had to grow stronger as it was passed on.

Magical beasts and demonkin would not wait forever.

Therefore, as generations passed, that house had to become a greater strength to the Empire.

That was growth potential.

Only those who proved these two things were granted titles by the Empire.

Whether it was battle aura, magic, or medicine, the standard was the same.

“Reaching Rank 3 through battle aura like your father did was remarkable. But there was no guarantee that his level could be passed on to his children. The Empire could not be certain that Father’s children would be as strong as he was.”

Father had not founded a school.

Nor had he ever proven his talent would be inherited by having children.

So although he had proven his ability, he had proven neither continuity nor growth potential.

That was why Father had not held a title, and why he had entered House Nihirit as a live-in son-in-law to make up for what he lacked.

“Houses with arcane magic are different. Even if they are weak in one generation, history has proven that they can reach great heights again in the next generation or the one after that. That accumulated history is proof of continuity, while their arcane arts deepening with each generation is proof of growth potential.”

“...But Brother’s treatment can be passed down through him.”

“That is right. He has almost proven continuity. But growth potential has not been proven. There has never been a precedent of someone becoming a noble through a treatment method, so no one knows whether such a method has growth potential.”

“Then how do you prove it?”

“By marrying, having children, and having those children prove it. That the treatment method can develop further.”

“...That makes no sense.”

“Whether it makes sense or not, that is what a title is.”

Mother set down her spoon for a moment.

“Freya, do you know why nobles are so obsessed with marriage?”

Freya frowned.

“...To pass on their titles?”

“Half right. But more precisely, it is for a loophole.”

“A loophole?”

“Ability, continuity, and growth potential. It is realistically very difficult to prove all three on your own. So nobles use marriage to make up for what they lack.”

Mother briefly looked at Father.

“Look at your father. He had more than enough ability, but he could not prove continuity or growth potential. House Nihirit had continuity and growth potential, but lacked ability. So when we married, the Empire recognized that House Nihirit possessed all three.”

Put simply, they gamed the system with tags.

Ability? Yes.

Continuity? Yes.

Growth potential? Yes.

All right. You may keep your noble title.

The Empire was fairly lenient about how organically the three elements had to work together, which made that loophole possible.

“Julian is the same. He has sufficient ability, and because he can pass down his treatment methods, he has continuity as well. The only thing he lacks is growth potential. So we intend to send Julian to a house that has proven growth potential.”

“...”

“He is not bowing his head to enter another house. Both sides are exchanging what the other needs.”

Freya lowered her head deeply at those words.

“But... it is demon disease...”

“I am fine, Freya. Thank you for getting angry on my behalf.”

“No...”

Freya jabbed an innocent potato with her fork.

Father, who had quietly watched her, spoke.

“Freya, becoming a live-in son-in-law is not necessarily bad. Have you ever seen me being disregarded in this house?”

“Ah... no...”

“That is right. Being a live-in son-in-law is not necessarily a bad thing.”

That was true.

Being a live-in son-in-law did not automatically mean living at everyone’s mercy.

As Father’s case showed, there were plenty of live-in sons-in-law who still became the heads of their houses.

House Nihirit had needed Father’s combat ability, after all.

In the end, if you were competent, you would not have to walk on eggshells anywhere.

“Even if your brother enters another house, I cannot imagine this rascal living while minding anyone’s opinion. These days, he runs around outside all the time without even minding mine.”

“...”

When you put it like that, it sounds like I have been causing trouble everywhere.

Father ignored my silent protest and continued.

“So do not worry. We worry about Julian as much as you do. I will make sure you do not end up with the witchlike sister-in-law you are worried about, Freya.”

The last line carried a little of Father’s usual dry humor.

The table fell quiet for a moment, then I heard Mother trying to hold back a laugh.

Freya said nothing for a while.

With her lips pressed tight, she stared down at her plate.

The roasted potato she had been stabbing slowly slipped from the tip of her fork.

Then, little by little, her expression relaxed.

Freya nodded faintly.

Then she suddenly muttered to herself.

“No, wait. If growth potential is the problem, then someone who has the potential for arcane magic...”

Freya turned her head to the side.

Eri was sitting beyond my shoulder from Freya’s perspective.

“...Huh?”