Chapter 1: A healer who dislikes training (1)

Folding the cover

Believing in god doesn’t mean you can suddenly gain “divine power.”

And even if you obtain divine power, it doesn’t mean you can become a healer and go around healing people.

From a young age, if you pray consistently, you can awaken “divine power.”

By the way, the process of awakening divine power varies from person to person.

If you have faith in God and pray consistently, you will have divine power.

In the worst cases, some people never obtain divine power, no matter how long they pray.

Now, a question might come to mind:

‘If anyone can gain divine power just by praying, then why are healers so rare?’

Most people can acquire divine power through prayer alone.

However, not everyone gains enough divine power to heal wounds.

Some people only attain a minuscule amount of divine power, that can’t even heal a cut as big as a fingernail.

Surprisingly, 80% of believers fall into this category.

The remaining 20% possess enough divine power to heal wounds, but even among them, not everyone qualifies to be a healer.

‘I thought that once I had divine power, I’d be walking on a path of roses.’

The real hardship begins once one attains divine power.

From that point on, not only the mind but also the body has to endure hardship.

“Training… you say?”

“It’s an essential course to increase your divine power.”

“Essential means it’s something I must do, right?”

“Yes, exactly. Training increases your divine power.”

“What happens if I don’t do it?” ”Why do you ask? I’m going to do it anyway.”

Turns out, there’s no choice in the matter.

To become a healer, one has to study for a long time.

And on top of that, they require you to undergo training.

But people don’t know that.

So, I didn’t know either.

I wish I could go back to before I entered the church.

“… ‘I’m going to the training.”

Do you know what kind of training is required for clerics aspiring to become healers?

‘Are they asking us to reach enlightenment?’

As a form of training where you abstain from killing, you eat only grains and remain in silence for 100 days.

Surprisingly, it’s one of the most favorite practices of priests.

It’s not too hard to endure, and the amount of divine power it generates is substantial, making it efficient.

Having a level of divine power that caught some attention, I grudgingly entered the training.

And then.

“Well done!”

My divine power has increased significantly.
… I wish it hadn’t increased.
This means there’s no escape—I’ll have to keep training.
Of course, the priests wouldn’t skip over any effective training.
‘Damn it.’

So, as I alternated between studying and training, my childhood slipped away.
Before I knew it, I became a priest.
“Over here!”
And I became a healer.

The church deliberately gave people the illusion of divine power. Because it was a power given by God, a healer’s ability to heal based on divine power was touted as a “cure-all” that could cure anything.

‘Damn it.’

If someone like the pope, overflowing with divine power, used their abilities, they might indeed perform miracles as advertised. With an abundance of divine power, the pope could likely heal any illness in an instant.
But ordinary healers aren’t capable of that.
Even after endless training, divine power only increases little by little, so of course, there’s a limit.

The problem is that the church encourages these misunderstandings, leading people to believe all healers are “cure-alls”.
And healers can’t correct this misconception, as all they can say in response to questions about why they can’t heal is, “I lack the skill.”

“Oh… my stomach. Oh!!! I’m dying!”
“Sir, please let me examine you briefly.”
“It hurts so much!! Hurry up and fix me!!”
“Where does it hurt?”
“Can’t you see I’m holding my stomach?! Ahhh!!”

The patient clutched his stomach and rolled around on the bed, screaming. I sighed to myself.
If he really were on the verge of dying from pain, he wouldn’t be able to move like that.
But he’s obviously in pain, so I kept a friendly smile and said,

“Sir, please show me your stomach so I can treat you.”
“Ugh.”

Groaning as if he were dying, the man quickly exposed his stomach.
Looks like he really is in pain.

“Please, hurry….”
“Alright~ I’ll press on it, so let me know where it hurts.”

Suppressing another sigh, I gently pressed the lower part of his abdomen, where he’d been clutching earlier.

“Ouch! Just heal me; why are you pressing on it?!”
“It’s necessary for the treatment. This is the spot that hurts, correct?”
“Yes, yes! Now please hurry and treat me!”
“What kind of pain is it? Does it feel like it’s being pinched or torn?”

The patient started yelling again at my question.
“It just hurts! Pain is pain; what does it matter what kind it is?!”
“This information is essential for the treatment.”
“Just use divine power to heal me! You didn’t ask any of this the last time I came; why are you doing this now?! Are you trying to torment the patient?! Do you think I paid a lot of money just to be questioned by a healer?!”

“So you’ve been treated here before? Was it for the same symptoms?”
“Yes!”

I might need to ask the name of the healer who treated him last time.
It’s clear he wasn’t properly treated, which is why the root cause wasn’t addressed.
That would explain why his condition recurred, bringing him back to the clinic.

“So, what kind of pain did you say it was?”
A grinding noise—
He gritted his teeth, finally answering my question.

“It feels like someone is stabbing me with a knife! Is that enough?”
“Have you ever seen blood in your urine?”
“I don’t know!!”

It seemed pointless to ask further about his symptoms, given how irritated he already was.
I had a rough idea of how to treat him, so I decided to begin the treatment.

“Hmm, understood. I’ll begin the treatment.”

The patient looked at me with a “let’s see how good you really are” expression. I’d seen that look countless times before. I began the treatment, drawing on my divine power.

One amazing thing about being a healer is that, despite having no medical knowledge, I can still perform treatments.
‘Being a healer really is a bit of a cheat.’
Could it be because divine power is a gift from the god?

Amazingly, when I channel divine power, a natural understanding of how to treat the illness appears in my mind.
However, I asked detailed questions about the symptoms because the more I know and the more divine power I have, the more efficiently treatment methods come to mind.
This means that depending on which healer you go to, your illness may or may not be treated.

The more serious and difficult the illness, the more crucial it is to find a skilled healer.

“Is it actually working? I don’t feel anything. Last time, the area felt warm as soon as the treatment started.”
“Yes, everything’s going smoothly; no need to worry.”

The warmth around the area was due to the healer’s lack of skill.
Divine power should be used to heal the illness, but it was instead heating up the skin, which wasted the divine power.
Because of this wasted power, the illness recurred even after treatment.

I decided to ignore the unnecessary details and focus on the treatment, as explaining all this would be like throwing myself under the bus.
I watched as the patient’s tense, pain-ridden body gradually relaxed.

“Treatment is complete.”
“Huh?”

The patient, who had been questioning whether I was really treating him, lay back with unfocused eyes, almost dazed. When he heard my words, he snapped back, blinking in surprise.

“You’re not feeling any pain now, right?”
“???”
“Nurse priest.”
“Yes~ Sir, the treatment is finished, so please stand up.”

“W-Wait a minute. Are you sure the treatment is really over? It feels like it ended too quickly. I still feel a bit of pain.”

Since divine power is inherently beneficial, some patients insist on receiving more treatment, even when they’re fully healed.
In cases like this, the nurse priest usually takes over, so I removed my gloves and left the examination room.

“Hey, where are you going, leaving me here? Do you know how much I paid to be treated like this?!”

Though I strive to follow the path of the god, moments like these make me question whether I’m truly on the right path.
‘Just endure, endure. This is all part of training and practice.’

I believe that if I continue to endure, repent, and overcome the endless waves of misanthropy, a brighter day will come.
There have been more than a few times when this accumulated distaste for humanity has been rewarded with precious divine power.

‘Hopefully, I’ll be a bit more mature tomorrow than I was today…’
If I can grow, even a little each day, then perhaps someday I’ll be able to chuckle even at the most insufferable patients.

Enduring the present for the sake of the future has been a consistent part of my journey since I joined the church.
Today, too, I smile.
After all, that’s what it means to be a healer!

It had been an ordinary day until I woke up and headed to work that morning.

“Brother Arthur.”
“Yes?”

As soon as I arrived and put my bag down, Brother Leo called out to me.

“You’re early today. That’s great. There’s a message for you.”
“What’s it about?”

Just as I was wondering why I was being called right after arriving, I heard an unexpected reply.

“The Bishop wants to see you.”
“Cough!”
“Oh my, are you alright?”
“W-Why does the Bishop want to see me?”
“I don’t know, usually he calls you here to scold you for an accident, right?”

“I really didn’t do anything wrong.”

I genuinely hadn’t caused any trouble.
Which is why I felt even more uneasy.
When it’s not about something I messed up…

A bad premonition pricked the back of my neck.

“Are you sure you haven’t heard anything?”
“Well, I didn’t ask for details.”
“Do I have to go right now?”
“He specifically asked to be informed as soon as you arrived, so it seems like it.”
“Understood. Thank you for letting me know.”

I really didn’t want to go. My feet felt heavy.

Lately, I’d been calm, not picking any fights with patients or causing issues.

Then why?

After hesitating for a while in front of the Bishop’s office, I gave up and knocked.
I’d been summoned; I couldn’t just ignore it.
If it’s a blow that’s bound to land, better to get it over with and save myself the emotional energy.

Knock, knock, knock—
“Bishop, I heard you called for me, so I’m here.”
“Come in.”

As I opened the ornate golden door handle and stepped inside, I saw the Bishop waiting for me, seated on a sofa.
His white ceremonial robe, pressed perfectly every morning, stood out remarkably.