I’m Not a Saint, Not a Priest, Just a Healer.

Swish, swish…
With every swing of Carlson’s wooden staff, the bushes parted left and right.
Though they knew the path, this served as a preemptive threat to flush out any potential dangers like snakes that might be lurking within.

“The trail is really overgrown.”
Miscott’s muttered complaint prompted an uncharacteristic nod of agreement from Yona.
Once they entered the forest, the enveloping trees and shrubbery often grew as tall as a person, obstructing visibility.
Such areas were inherently hazardous.

As a veteran adventurer of several years, Yona kept one hand firmly on Carlson’s shoulder as she stuck close behind him.
Anything could burst through the foliage, and if Carlson suffered a sudden ambush, she would need to swiftly heal him – a basic positioning stance for healers on the move.

“Makes you wonder if the Holy Tree is located here because it’s holy, or if the area became holy because of the tree’s presence.”
“We still have another day’s travel ahead though? Already complaining about the shitty terrain?”
Irin’s grumbling provided Miscott with an opening he seemed to relish.
‘So he doesn’t just act like an ass towards me.’

In a way, Yona supposed she should be glad Miscott spread his snark equally. Yet seeing his antics again made her question if joining a different party may have been wiser after all.
Though based on Mary’s limited options, the alternatives were likely no better.

Yona hadn’t directly chosen this party herself. As a rare healer, she was in constant demand by parties. Yet that same scarcity meant healers had to endure excessive burdens once embedded.
So rather than risk a poor fit, she relied on Mary to match her with a pre-assembled party already set on their intended destination – the safer approach.
From Mary’s perspective, preventing even one experienced healer like Yona from perishing senselessly took priority over freedom of choice.

“About halfway there now I’d reckon.”
Carlson discarded his staff and stretched his back with a groan.
Passing through the thickest forest would soon lead them to a riverside area with sparser foliage.
The party had finally emerged into that sparser region.

“Was worried we might run into snakes, but thankfully not.”
Yona’s murmured relief prompted a snicker from Carlson.
“If a snake did show up, you could have given it a nice stroke Yona. Doesn’t that disappoint you a bit perhaps?”

“Shut your mouth. I’d have cut the damn thing right off. Why would I ever touch that?”
“Oh-ho, because you were once a man yourself, a good stroking would only be natural no?”
“Exactly.”

Why would she ever want to touch a man’s genitals? Better to just sever them outright instead.
Of course, as an experienced healer of three years, Yona could likely reattach and restore functionality with enough care and effort.
Not that she had any intention of providing such services however.

“What about Alec’s then? You must stroke his at least, right?”
“I said shut it you brat. Why the hell would I touch Alec’s?”
“Why not? Too quick on the draw perhaps? Was he a premature shooter?”

With an audible smack, Yona hurled the hard end of her jerky strip squarely at Miscott’s backside, silencing his incessant needling.
No point finishing that disgustingly bitter scrap anyway.

The small but lively river they approached glittered silver in the late afternoon western sunlight.
Having departed in the early morning, the lingering daylight bathed the gently flowing waters.
The occasional fish breaking the surface gave an initially placid impression – until one recalled these were carnivorous maneaters, rather spoiling the peaceful vista.
‘Fall in and you’d be shredded instantly.’

The forest itself remained eerily still and quiet, only the occasional long howl perhaps from a slumbering demon cutting through the silence.
But this was the celestial hours when fiends were expected to slumber, so no immediate danger for now.

Before being inexplicably displaced to this wretched world, Yona had enjoyed fantasy novels and webtoons back in her original realm.
A common trope she now experienced firsthand was the adventuring campsite setup, an idea that now struck her as rather romanticized fiction compared to the reality.

For a party of just five, exposed clearings and open areas were out of the question as campsites.
The most suitable locations were cliff overhangs, behind large boulders or at the very least, up against the broad trunks of massive trees.
With only one person able to reasonably take sentry shifts in such a small party, leaving blind spots or exposed flanks was unacceptably risky. An unseen assault could easily overwhelm the lone lookout before the rest were even roused.

As night fell, the party had made their camp nestled against a sizeable rock face, with a campfire set before the single entrance vector.

“That bastard Henson, calling these ‘standard’ rations. Just smell this lousy jerky…”
“Should have sprung for the premium packs. Not like the ‘standard’ ones are that different from the basic crap.”
While the jerky Carlson was chewing emanated a pleasant smoky aroma, Yona’s simply reeked of an outhouse.

“Ah damn it.”
Her hunger left her little choice but to stomach the foul strips regardless.

“At least with Irin around we don’t need to worry about the fire.”
“Hey, I may be diminutive but I’m still a formidable fire mage you know. Using me as a glorified flame tosser, have you no shame?”
“What’s wrong with benefiting from a party member’s talents every now and then?”
Chuckling lightly, Viola turned to Yona with a tentative inquiry, her elongated ears twitching elegantly.
“Yona, did you really come from another world?”

Yona froze mid-chew, golden irises rolling up to bore straight into Viola’s gaze.
“Yes, it’s true. The world I lived in before wasn’t this one.”

“Oh here we go again. Viola, you actually believe that nonsense?”
With a hard toss, Yona flung the remaining jerky butt squarely at Miscott’s face.
May as well discard that foul scrap entirely at this point.

“Well what kind of remotely believable story should I tell then? Talking about steel horseless carriages racing along, flying carriages soaring in the sky, or cities filled with towers eclipsing the very heavens – who would possibly believe any of that? You’d just say I have an overactive imagination, right?”

Miscott did have a fair point from their perspective. To the people of this world, Yona’s casual mentions of her former modern realm must sound like utter delusional ramblings.
With even the imperial palace limited to just five stories, and all local architecture capped at four floors due to structural limitations, the very idea of soaring metal skybound transports or towering metallic behemoths dwarfing the clouds would seem utterly fanciful hearsay.
No wonder the guild members were convinced Yona was somewhat unbalanced for so insistently stating such patently absurd claims as factual.

“Ugh, believe what you want. Anyways, I’ll take the first sentry shift. The rest of you figure out the rotation.”
There were no set rules dictating sentry order rotations. Since it came down to each party determining it amongst themselves, Yona swiftly staked her claim to the opening watch.
Leaving no room for objections, she huddled up close to the campfire, eyes fixated on the crackling flames.

‘Damn it all…’
She dearly missed her original hometown. Admittedly, a world where she had owned next to nothing materialistic.
But if given the chance, she would return in a heartbeat. Failing that, she at least yearned for her original physical form to be properly restored – to reclaim the male body and identity she had once possessed…

“Yona, wake up.”
Viola’s crisp voice roused Yona from her slumber. The elf’s delicate features looked down at her expectantly.
The hazy morning sunlight filtering in behind Viola indicated she must have taken the final sentry shift.

“Mnn…already morning?”
“Yes, and we need to start preparing to move out. I woke you first since you tend to take a while.”
“Ah…thanks.”

Yona unbundled her bedroll, stuffing it back into her rucksack before plopping down on the bare ground.
Having neglected to remove her holy cloth, there was no need to re-wrap it – just tightening a few loosened knots would suffice.
Next, she retrieved her comb from her pack.
Her unruly hair became an unsightly tangled mess if she missed even a single day of grooming. Failure to thoroughly brush it left her mane sticking up in an unkempt frizzy mane reminiscent of a lion.

“Ow! …Ah shit.”
As coarse as horse hair, stubborn strands would inevitably catch and rip out with each brushing session, causing her discomfort and irritation.

By the time she finished, the rest of the party had awoken and begun their own preparations. With a lengthy full-body stretch, they gradually loosened up from sleeping on the hard ground overnight.

“Alright, if we set out now we should arrive around lunchtime. Re-tying those protective wardings isn’t difficult, so we can get it done quickly and then start heading back. Might as well camp here again tonight too.”

“Got it.”
Yona shouldered her rucksack and ripped open the designated ‘breakfast’ ration pouch with her teeth, munching on the dry biscuit-like travel bread as she followed behind Carlson.

“We’re here.”
The centrally located Holy Tree had grown tremendously thick and tall – so massively gnarled that over a dozen adults linking hands would struggle to fully encircle its mighty trunk.
While not particularly special in any overt function, the aura of holiness permeating this ancient Tree prompted the devout practice of securely binding wardings around its perimeter to honor and protect the sacred site.
As anything man-made inevitably became loosened over time by the elements, notices would periodically arrive at the cathedral to re-secure the wards – the nature of their current mission objective.

A relatively simple task only complicated by the actual travel distance required. Under normal circumstances, something that could be completed within ten minutes.
Except there was now an unforeseen circumstance awaiting them at the site.
Someone lay collapsed beneath the Holy Tree’s branches.

“…Isn’t that a person down there? Yona, let’s check it out.”
Carlson and Yona rushed forward in tandem towards the prone figure.