Chapter 105
Erpen Adamberta.
Having left the elves' residential district, he had spent a full 300 years among humans.
Over that long span, he had reached one conclusion about humans.
— They are rationally foolish.
At first, he too had thought humans were simply stupid.
They cut down 100-year-old giant trees just to make chairs,
sold out their friends for a few gold coins,
and even worsened their conditions by going straight back to work the next day after treatment without resting.
Erpen often clicked his tongue at the countless humans and the narrowness of their vision.
But as 10 years, 20 years, then 100 years went by,
Erpen had no choice but to change his view of humans.
They cut down giant trees
to enjoy as much power as possible within a short life of less than 100 years.
They sold out their friends
so their families could live more abundantly with that gold.
They went back to work the very next day after being treated
to give their children one more coin before their bodies gave out.
Through those countless cases, Erpen came to understand why humans behaved that way.
They were not narrow-minded.
Unlike elves, who live for ages close to eternity, their lifespans are short,
so during that brief life,
they made rational choices in a direction different from the elves' in order to enjoy and pass on as much as possible.
And now, in this very moment.
Erpen could only let out a sigh at yet another foolish, rational human.
“The germ theory is... far too dangerous a theory. It could damage the church's prestige.”
“...This doesn't seem like something we should be standing here discussing. Let's move somewhere else.”
The two of them left the auditorium and headed to the reception room assigned to the Mencia sect.
Inside the reception room.
While waiting for tea, Erpen spoke first.
“Archbishop Dormun... the church's prestige? What are you talking about.”
“Surely you understand. If it becomes known that the Saint's germ was the source of the disease, the citizens will demand that the church be held responsible for all the treatments it has provided so far.”
Dormun fiddled with his rosary.
“Right now, humanity is a creature barely gasping for breath between the darkness outside the Black Iron Wall and the poverty within it. In this dark age, shouldn't we avoid tarnishing the church's prestige?”
“....”
Erpen silently looked at the old priest.
The ash-gray eyes of the elf who had lived for centuries slowly swept over the priest's pleading expression.
Before long, the elf finished thinking and opened his mouth.
“So you're saying we should keep quiet?”
“If possible, yes. But isn't the tide of the times something impossible to stop? So, 10 years, no, 15 years. If you help me, Sir Erpen, that should be entirely possible, shouldn't it?”
Erpen nodded.
Erpen is the second-in-command of the Adamberta sect.
And Dormun, standing before him, is the third-in-command of the Mencia sect.
If the two of them joined forces and persuaded the elder priests, delaying the announcement of germ theory would be no trouble at all.
“I see. If it's 15 years, that would certainly be a suitable time for people to accept it.”
Dormun's expression brightened considerably.
But at Erpen's following cold voice, Dormun's face stiffened.
“15 years. By then, you'll have retired and become someone the people have long since forgotten.”
“....”
The rosary beads in Dormun's fingers stopped moving.
His dry lips twitched twice as if trying to force out an excuse.
The last bit of reason he had left held him back, telling him that anything he said before this living history of healing studies would amount to nothing but excuses.
Silence settled between the two of them.
Only the cry of a pigeon in the distance echoed through the room.
“Erpen... sir....”
Breaking the silence, Dormun barely squeezed out his voice.
But the elf lightly raised a hand to stop him.
As if telling him not to become any more pathetic.
“Don't misunderstand me. I am not trying to rebuke you. I can understand the feeling of watching the theology and sermons you built up over a lifetime collapse before your eyes.”
Erpen briefly stared at the back of Dormun's hand.
The blue veins standing out through the thin skin hinted at how much time Dormun had left.
“If my lifespan were as short as yours, I might have made the same choice. Wanting to protect the last shred of honor is a primal desire everyone has.”
That was why it was all the more regrettable.
Erpen had spent 300 years, yet he still had more than 100 years left.
But the man in front of him had less than 10 years left to work as a healer.
“But I still have far too many patients to see. And the knowledge I still have to uncover is piled up like mountains. So I can't give you those 15 years.”
Sip.
Erpen took only a sip of the tea that arrived late, then stood up.
Clack.
The cold click of heels stopped at the door.
“Archbishop Dormun.”
“....”
“Don't cling too much to the years gone by. I didn't throw away 300 years either. In the end, pride and the hunger for power are separated by only a sheet of paper. It changes depending on what you can empty out.”
The elf slightly tipped his hat and left those words behind.
“Sometimes you also have to learn to let go beyond reason. You are a stronger person than you think.”
Erpen put on his hat and left the room.
— thud.
The door closed.
Dormun, left alone in the reception room, stared wordlessly at the teacup for a long while.
Dormun Mencia.
He had been born with his family's support and, at a young age, risen to the qualifications of a senior healer.
For more than ten years after that.
He was now the sect's third-in-command, with the cardinal's seat right within reach.
And now, when it was time to let go of what he held, everything he had built up felt far too precious to give away.
Soon, Dormun hardened his resolve and muttered toward the empty air.
“I'm sorry, Sir Erpen.”
His fingertips trembled.
“I forgot the way to unclench a fist back when I was still a newborn.”
In the end, life is short.
The star that felt close enough to touch was far too bright to give up.
***
Several days had passed since the germ theory was announced.
During that time, everyday life hadn't changed much at all.
The public went about their daily lives, not even knowing what hypothesis was circulating in the healing world.
Perhaps that was only natural.
Germ theory was still too early to reveal to the public.
It wasn't because they seemed unable to accept germs.
'Before we made antibiotics, we agreed to let only elder-ranked healers know about germs.'
This world was one where germs could be abused.
Think about it.
A black mage who didn't even know the cause of smallpox, spreading the curse of plague around by using pus as a catalyst and relying only on trial and error—that was the kind of world this was.
In a world like this, you tell people how to discover and culture germs?
'If some crazy bastard started scattering anthrax around, humanity would end that very day.'
It's a good thing we don't know yet.
Knowledge of bacteria was a bit too dangerous for ordinary people to know.
So at the very least, I had planned to announce it only after making antibiotics.
'I promised my master the same thing.'
As a result, I had turned the healing world upside down, but my everyday life hadn't changed dramatically.
“It's a letter, Sir Yulian.”
“Thank you, Perisia.”
On days with lectures, I stayed at the academy,
and on days without them, I flew to the capital to treat patients.
If there was any part of my life that was somewhat out of the ordinary, it was that a lot of letters were coming in under my name.
“Sir Yulian. What should we do with the students' letters?”
“Please sort out the inquiries about black magic separately.”
“The marquis family has sent you a letter inviting you to this year's birthday banquet, sir.”
“Please tell them I don't think I'll be able to make it that day because I'm too busy.”
“Understood.”
Perisia, too, was spending her busy days as something between a guard and a secretary.
Then one day.
— Bubble.
The dye in the flask bubbled once, and a thin reddish vapor rose.
With the flask's mouth tightly sealed by the stopper, Perisia's voice came from beyond the door.
“Sir Yulian.”
“Come in.”
The door opened, and a beautiful woman with a cool expression walked in.
Perisia, with her golden hair swept over one shoulder, placed a letter on the desk.
“It's a letter from Father Simeon.”
“So the church's position has finally come out.”
A few days earlier, I had asked Simeon to put together and send me the church's position on the germ theory.
I was busy, and besides, I was bad at keeping up with news from outside the clinic.
Simeon had been serving as my ears, listening in on healing-world news in my stead.
『To Lord Schnabel.
The season when the sun's shadow lengthens has arrived. I pray that the Saint remains in good health.
I am writing to inform you that the noon joint sermon meeting of the 12 sects held today has concluded.
Of the 12 sects, 10 have resolved to accept the Saint's hypothesis as the order's official view.』
'So, in the end, the two sects decided not to accept it.'
The 12 sects all began from the same root of healing studies, but in the end they are like separate specialized fields with different directions.
Just as the Adamberta sect can be compared to hematology, each sect can be compared to neurology, orthopedics, otolaryngology, and so on.
According to Simeon's letter, it seems two of them decided not to accept germ theory.
'Which sects?'
『The sects that never raised their hands in the end were Mencia and Lafabri.』
Mencia and Lafabri.
Infectious disease and obstetrics/gynecology.
'Mencia makes sense, but why Lafabri?'
That was a little unexpected.
They had been the quietest sect when the announcement was made.
Yet this sect would go against it until the very end.
Keeping the two names in mind, I moved my gaze to the next line.
『Mencia is a sect that has taught plague to be divine punishment.
For a sect that had long taught plague to be divine punishment, the existence of germs that deny divine punishment would be hard to accept.』
Though softly worded, the meaning contained in it was razor-sharp.
— They seem to have a hard time accepting it because they've made a nice living whenever plague spread, with repentance prayer meetings and witch hunts.
That was roughly the meaning.
Next came the Lafabri sect.
『The Lafabri sect seems to fear facing the mistakes they themselves have committed until now.
The moment it is revealed that the cause of puerperal fever is germs, they will have to face protests from nobles all over the world.』
Oh, dear.
That was an understandable reason.
No matter how noble they are, they are no match for puerperal fever.
Roughly speaking, if an upper-ranking healer is already on standby, the probability of noblewomen dying before or after childbirth is about 10 percent.
If the healer misses the golden time or a sudden premature birth occurs, the mortality rate jumps to 50 percent.
No wonder fairy-tale and romance-fantasy heroines like Cinderella start out having lost their mothers.
And the Lafabri sect was largely a sect that researched methods of treating puerperal fever with Heal.
But if it were revealed that germs were the cause of puerperal fever, and that the Lafabri sect had in effect been the ones spreading them....
'The backlash would be no joke.'
Before even considering right and wrong, they looked set to be dragged to the guillotine.
I guess it wouldn't be easy to support germ theory if that were the price.
'So, in the end, the Mencia and Lafabri sects decided to stay in the past.'
It was a pity.
Originally, revealing germ theory now wasn't just groundwork for making antibiotics.
The Academy General Treatment Center, which would be built at the academy next year and transcend sect boundaries.
In order to gather famous healers there, it was necessary to shatter the long-standing paradigm of healing studies once and for all.
It was necessary to give them a sense of crisis that if they kept shutting the doors of their sects, they would fall behind the times.
But these two sects chose to settle for the present rather than follow the flow of the times.
'Especially the Mencia sect is regrettable.'
My impression of the Mencia sect was complicated in many ways.
As children, they had been shameless enough to try to steal their parents' research results, but as physicians, they had merely done their best according to the common sense of the age.
So while it was regrettable that they couldn't read the flow of the times, at the same time it felt comforting too.
“...Two sects opposed it, then. What do you plan to do with those two sects?”
Perisia, having taken the letter, seemed to share a similar sentiment to mine.
“I'm not going to do anything about them. It's just that I don't think I can go along with them.”
I have no intention of putting special pressure on the Mencia sect.
There would be innocent healers in there too, and those people would probably only have done their best in their own positions.
But at the same time, I don't plan to reach out my hand either.
Perisia couldn't hide her regret at hearing that.
“Blinded by the glory of the past. If only they had waited just one month.”
“Exactly.”
Perisia's gaze settled on the flask of red dye on my desk.
And beside the flask, a white mouse was squeaking as it ran around inside its cage.
“The antibiotics are finally finished....”
What a pity.
One month.
If they had acknowledged germ theory and waited just one month, the Mencia sect could have gained the strongest voice among all the sects.
But now I had no intention of giving them that chance.
“Perisia. Let's get in touch with the Adamberta sect.”
“Who should I contact?”
“Archbishop Erpen has just proposed a joint research project. Let's contact them.”
If the infectious diseases department doesn't want to handle antibiotics, what can you do?
We can only supply the antibiotics to the Adamberta sect, which will be handling them most often.