Chapter 12 : The labyrinth has opened (6)

The applause that had gone on for quite some time began to quiet down, and I was finally able to speak again.

After scanning the crowd with a satisfied look, I said,
“Recently, an unfortunate incident occurred at our temple.”

Priests Ando and Chilan coughed awkwardly, seemingly uncomfortable with the topic.

However, I wasn’t bringing this up to criticize them.

I wanted to emphasize how unreasonable it was that they were disciplined over such a matter.

“But the truth is, what happened to us is something everyone here has likely experienced at least once before.

Seeking another healer when you cannot treat a patient yourself—that’s something completely natural for us, isn’t it?”

I subtly highlighted how unjust the discipline imposed on the two senior priests was.

Everyone nodded in agreement, acknowledging the unfairness of their circumstances.

It seemed I wasn’t the only one who felt this way, as the expressions of the two senior priests visibly relaxed.

“However, during that process, there were often cases where treatment took too long or patients ended up leaving without receiving care.

There isn’t a single healer who hasn’t faced this kind of situation, is there?”

Again, everyone nodded.

After confirming the crowd’s reaction, I continued speaking.

“This time, the Holy Nation deemed the situation problematic and imposed disciplinary actions.”

Since they claimed there was an issue, whatever I was about to do next would be a justified change.

Certainly, there would be people who would feel uncomfortable, calling it too radical.

Even I felt that what I was about to propose was bold.

But with two individuals already disciplined, the justification was on my side.

‘If they disciplined us to make a change, then saying we shouldn’t change is contradictory, isn’t it?’

“The truth is, we all knew there were issues with the current method.

It’s just that, since it’s how things have always been done, and we believed there was no alternative, we didn’t make an effort to change it.”

The atmosphere grew heavy and somber.

In the end, no one felt good when someone died without receiving treatment.

After all, who would welcome death?

“Now, it’s time for us to change. We all know that what we’ve been doing is wrong, don’t we?”

“Priest Arthur, isn’t this too much of an upheaval? We’re managing just fine,” Priest Chilan interjected, trying to moderate my words, thinking I was taking it too far.

“No, it’s already too late.”

“How exactly do you intend to change things?

Everyone has ideas, but no one has been able to implement them.”

“It’s not as difficult as you might think.”

I had been trying to avoid stepping forward, but after seeing patients being created in real-time within the labyrinth, I couldn’t stay silent any longer.

With the labyrinth now open, patients wouldn’t just appear for a year or two but for decades to come.

The current system was something that might work in a small community but couldn’t be sustained in front-line conditions like this.

“We’ll establish departments and allocate personnel.”

“Departments? What are those?”

Perhaps they had heard of the concept before.

“Internal Medicine and Surgery.”

It wasn’t feasible to divide things too finely from the start due to the limited number of people here.

So, I decided to begin by splitting the work into internal medicine and surgery.

Of course, the ailments humans suffer from go beyond these two fields, but as my knowledge in these areas was also limited, I planned to take things step by step.

Moreover, weren’t the priests here already using divine powers to heal?

‘Localization is the key here.’

Internal medicine focuses on treating diseases of the internal organs, while surgery involves treating external injuries and performing operations on internal organ-related illnesses.

However, since the concept of surgery didn’t seem to exist here, I left it out of the explanation.

“We’ll divide into these two departments and assign personnel based on their aptitudes.

However, we’ll need to prioritize staffing for surgery, as it’s likely to have more patients.”

Without any restrictions, it was clear everyone would flock to internal medicine.

That’s why I proposed a competency-based selection process with limits on the number of participants.

“Applicants for internal medicine will take an exam, and we’ll select those with the highest scores.

Priest Ando, I’d like you to oversee this process.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

“And what about me? What should I do?”

Not wanting to be left out, Priest Chilan eagerly chimed in, asking for a role as well.

“Priest Chilan, I’m worried it might be too much of a burden for you, but could you perhaps teach surgical knowledge to the other priests?”

“…Surgical knowledge?”

Being asked to teach something he didn’t know must have left him quite flustered.

I gave him a reassuring smile as I replied.

“Yes, I happen to have a book on surgery.

I’d like you to use that book to teach the priests about surgical treatment.”

“A book like that exists? Could you tell me what it contains?”

“It’s a medical text that outlines basic surgical knowledge.

I’m confident that someone as capable as Priest Chilan will quickly grasp it.

You’d only need to teach its contents to the other priests.”

Since Priest Chilan had openly opposed me teaching the healers, I intentionally entrusted him with the task of education.

At the very least, he wouldn’t criticize his own teaching methods, would he?

Even if the lessons turned out to be a mess, it didn’t really matter.

‘It’s already been proven that the novices are capable of studying on their own.’

While they occasionally came to me with questions, most of the time they gained knowledge by reading books.

No matter how inexperienced someone might be, earning the title of “senior” wasn’t something that came easily.

I believed that teaching by referring to a book would be more than sufficient.

Making Chilran the teacher was my way of ensuring he wouldn’t criticize the system.

“That doesn’t seem like too difficult a task.”

“Thank you. Once the basics are mastered, I plan to let them focus on areas where they show talent or interest.

Some will handle broken bones, others will focus on skin issues, and still others will take charge of treating internal organ damage.”

By dividing the fields in this way, it would take much less time to identify the healer responsible for a particular type of injury when a patient arrives.

Of course, it wouldn’t be possible to divide the fields in detail right from the start.

With limited personnel, it was inevitable that some would need to cover multiple areas.

However, as time went on, we would be able to create much more specialized fields.

‘There’s a reason hospitals have advanced so much in modern times.’

There might be some problems in the short term due to the sudden changes, but once everyone adapted, a properly functioning hospital could be established.

“I’m not opposing it, but isn’t that essentially what we’re already doing?”

Convincing people to adapt to these changes was a challenge.

“Of course, that’s true.

But isn’t it also true that information about who can treat what isn’t shared with everyone?”

The current system involved asking around one by one to find out who could handle a particular issue.

“I want to create a system where this is managed systematically so that patients can be assigned quickly.”

“Hmm…”

While no one was outright objecting, their expressions seemed to say, “Do we really need to do this?”

They didn’t yet understand the convenience of systematic management.

“Trust me. This will definitely be of great help to everyone.”

And so, a wind of change began to blow through the temple.

Once we clumsily established departments and divided personnel, the number of neglected patients drastically decreased.

It would be a lie to say there were no trial-and-error phases.

Some priests intentionally omitted what they could do, finding it unpleasant to disclose everything about their capabilities.

‘They don’t like their personal information being shared with everyone.’

That knowledge…

You can’t take it to the grave with you, so why hold it so dear?

Having lived in a place overflowing with knowledge in my previous life, I found it hard to empathize with the closed-off attitude here.

I dismissed their minor acts of defiance and pressed on with the plan.

The biggest improvement was the significant reduction in waiting patients.

Moreover, the priests appreciated focusing on a specific field, saying it made studying much easier.

Some even mentioned how they were surprised at the depth of knowledge shared within their chosen specialty.

“Overall, the response has been positive.

“I didn’t expect things to change so quickly, but it’s remarkable,” Priest Chilan said, bringing good news about the other priests’ reactions.

“That’s a relief.”

Of course, not every patient survived just because the system had changed.

Some patients still lost their lives, and there were those who died without receiving treatment.

However, it was undeniable that the situation had improved compared to before.

Even Priests Ando and Chilan were astonished by the noticeable progress.

“By the way, have you noticed how severe the injuries of recent patients have been?”

“Ah, I was about to bring that up myself.

The increasing deaths have taken a toll on the morale of our brothers.

They’re working hard, but the lack of results is disheartening.”

“They seem motivated to study, but I’m worried that repeated failures might lead some to give up.”

Their observations were spot on, as expected of senior healers.

“Lately, I keep thinking, ‘Why am I so incompetent?’

If I were just a bit more skilled, I could have saved them…”

One of the novices approached me for counseling.

“Why blame yourself? There’s no one as diligent in their studies as you.”

The novice, whom I’d been keeping an eye on for their talent, had a face that looked like they’d been through a brawl.

It wasn’t surprising, given that they had to send three patients to the Sun God today alone.