Iron Blooded Hound

Chapter 81: Chapter 81: Journey of Compassion

When Vikir first entered the dormitory designated for severely ill patients, the clerics' initial reaction was less than welcoming.

"This is no place for a layman."

"You could be infected, leave immediately!"

"Assistance? We don't need it, you're in the way!"

However, as Vikir began to move among the patients, offering them aid and comfort, the attitudes of the clerics began to change.

"That's not the usual way of bestowing blessings."

Vikir shared with the cleric who was employing divine power on a red spot on a patient's leg.

In its simplest form, a cleric's primary function is to beseech a deity to share some of their power and use it to manifest miraculous phenomena in the world.

Essentially, the cleric requests power from the god, the god accepts and transmits the power, and the cleric gains the ability to heal the patient.

If the patient also believes in the same God, the cleric's request for power from the God acts as a kind of guarantee, enhancing the healing effect.

In short, more divine power is available to the same devotee.

This is especially true if the cleric or patient has a deep connection with the gods, such as through prolonged prayer or evangelizing.

This was akin to the relationship between a bank's credit score and lending.

However.

Clerics could only use divine power within certain limits.

Factors such as one's level of devotion, asceticism, how much one prayed, how often one invoked God's name, how much one donated, how much one volunteered, and how long one had been devoted to God would determine how much divine power one could wield.

A cleric with 1 divine power could perform 1 miracle, and a cleric with 10 divine power could perform 10 miracles.

This was common sense.

However.

Vikir knew.

How a cleric with 1 divine power could perform 10 miracles, and a cleric with 10 divine power could perform 100 miracles.

" ... There's a concept known as short selling."

It was a cunning technique discovered by clerics in the Time of Annihilation as they struggled to compensate for their ever-diminishing lack of divine power.

In economics, short selling means "selling something you don't have."

Similarly, clerics discovered a way to effectively borrow divine power they didn't possess to perform miracles in times of crisis.

When the time of annihilation came, many clerics despaired in the face of the encroaching demons and the even greater number of patients.

Their own divine powers were simply not enough to stem the catastrophe.

So the deities of the Rune religion, observing from on high, devised a plan.

They significantly increased the amount of divine power available to clerics who had performed well and consistently.

This allowed high-ranking clerics to perform far more miracles than usual amidst the crisis.

However, even then, they still needed more divine power.

Demons and monsters spewing forth from the infernal realm literally laid waste to the human world.

The gods grew even more desperate.

It was then that the clerics began to innovate.

They started unleashing divine powers that would normally have been unthinkable.

Even their empty mana vessels were able to channel divine power.

Act first, report later. Let's perform a miracle and see what happens.

Any divine power that you have accrued in advance can be used later with interest to make up for it or replenish it, but you should use every bit of it that you can draw upon immediately.

The cycle of generating and utilizing divine power and then repaying it through devout activities.

Some call it 'borrowing divine power', some call it 'shorting divine power', and some self-indulgently call it 'beseeching divine power'.

Even those who weren't clerics and had slain many demons were allowed to use some divine power, as it was deemed a religious activity to slay demons to earn karma (experience).

Vikir had slain countless demons, and the karma had been accumulating nicely, stored in his soul.

This was true even after his regression.

Thus, the present Vikir is the only one who can wield divine power without being a cleric.

However, there was a slight limitation on the use of divine power without being a member of Rune: it must be done within a sanctuary.

Where Vikir currently stood was the domain of the Steadfast Quavadis, and therefore a sanctuary.

Vikir approached the groaning man and reached out.

...Poof!

A weak stream of divine power began to heal the patient's body.

The clerics, wide-eyed at witnessing Vikir's divine power, rushed over to observe.

It was the first time they had ever seen someone who was not a cleric of House Quavadis use divine power.

Moreover, Vikir was a seasoned veteran at efficiently using divine power.

"That, too, I have learned from enduring the Time of Annihilation."

Clerics attending to a patient in a frantic hurry. Looking over their shoulders, Vikir learned to use divine power.

It was simple, really.

A straightforward one, in fact: incise the wound with a scalpel and let the divine power flow directly to the primary injury.

Much divine power is wasted in performing miracles by laying hands on skin, clasping hands, or casting blessings from afar.

Instead, it was most efficient to channel the divine power amassed at the source of the affliction.

Vikir took his scalpel and made small incisions in the reddened spots, channeling divine power through the flowing blood.

The sanctuary of the Quavadis was filled with grace, and Vikir was able to draw upon a plentiful supply of divine power.

Of course, since he was not a cleric, he could not use it for an extended period.

And the clerics who had witnessed Vikir's miracles and performances were beginning to flock to him one by one.

Skills to survive that could be used by anyone in the Time of Annihilation were deemed extraordinary and unparalleled here.

Furthermore.

The clerics' astonishment was not yet complete.

Vikir had been stalling the spread of the illness with a mixture of various herbs he had gathered from the waters of the Red and Dark Mountains.

It was something he had learned from the healers of Balak during the last two years of living amongst them.

A remedy that wouldn't cure the plague, but would delay its spread and suffering for as long as possible.

Crafted from recipes and ingredients unknown to the realm, it alleviated the fevers and groans of the patients, somewhat.

Like this. Vikir moved among the patients, inhaling their foulness and their complaints, yet calmly and quietly tending to them all.

This, of course, was done with purpose.

First, to instill confidence in the clerics of Quavadis, second, to take the essence of the divine water to his comrades in distant lands, and third, out of compassion for those who had succumbed to the red death because of him.

"...."

Everyone watched Vikir's miracles with their mouths half open.

Then.

"Aaahhh-Mom! Mommy!"

A child cries, shaking the body of a prone woman.

The woman's body was still pallid in complexion, but a few red spots had appeared.

The issue was that her body was dangerously frail even in this state.

Vikir placed his hand on the child's head.

"Take a breath. I'll heal your mom right away."

After saying this, Vikir lifted the afflict

ion from the woman's body.

He also grabbed a handful of gold coins from his pocket and gave them to the child.

"Illness is illness, but you are malnourished. Use this to buy food and firewood to care for your mom."

The child looks down in shame, his face covered in tears and snot.

Meanwhile, seeing the child receive the money, many sick individuals rushed to Vikir.

They, too, extended their hands for money.

One of the clerics was astonished and admonished Vikir.

"No, no material assistance, there's no limit, you'll have to give them all the money you have!"

Vikir brushed it off.

"Why shouldn't there be a limit? There's definitely a limit to the money in my pocket, and I'll just have to give it all away."

With that, Vikir distributed the money to the sick people around him and their families.

Vikir then discarded the empty leather pouch without a trace of regret and returned to his work.

Once again the clerics stood bewildered, stunned.

Saint Dolores was among them.

"...."

She gazed at Vikir's broad back and recalled what had transpired earlier.

The young men who had courted her.

They boasted of their noble status and vast wealth, showering the ghettos with donations and provisions.

Yet, their attitude was haughty, and in their hearts they scorned and looked down upon the poor.

But what about Vikir? He went ahead and gave away all the money in his pocket.

Though the amount was small, it was a grand gesture of sharing and sacrifice.

For this reason, the Scripture says that a transient who offers a bowl of porridge may be more noble than a wealthy man who gives 1,000 gold coins.

Dolores pondered silently.

Where filth and plague reigned, this man toiled harder than anyone else to aid the less fortunate.

A man who seems to have lived on the frontlines of a savage battle.

This man with the demeanor of a wanderer, a seeker, a prophet.

This man has a sad, lonely soul that belies his outward strength.

A man who calls himself a stray, yet within he is a lost and weary pup.

This man is bleeding and crying with his soul.

...Where in the world does he come from?

Suddenly, Dolores remembered a line he had muttered in a hushed voice some time ago.

"Philosophy is essentially a way of understanding people, so this is inevitable."

And then.

...a thud!

A pulsating heartbeat, a swiftly flowing bloodstream.

Her heart plummeted to the bottom of her chest once, and then rose back up again.

A saint, and a still young and naive sixteen-year-old girl.

Dolores' heart was pounding fast.

Around the unassuming man before her.

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