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

As she left the tower, Yona resolved to move inns. Alevian was too much of a burden. While her helpfulness was appreciated, Yona disliked how she constantly overstepped boundaries.

‘Tch…’
Alevian had agreed to investigate, but Yona didn’t hold much expectation. If she uncovered something, great. If not, it couldn’t be helped.
With no detectable magic power or aura, what else could there possibly be?
…Which would leave only her holy power then.

Yona gazed upwards. Having leisurely set out late morning to visit the tower, it was likely around noon now. She had arranged to meet Alec at the cathedral tomorrow for a new holy cloth, but oh well.

After a brief deliberation, Yona headed for the cathedral instead. As she neared, the dense consecrated aura grew more palpable. The holy power residing within her seemed to stir and circulate in response.

The soaring bell tower pierced the sky. At each hourly chime, it announced the time – quite a boon considering timekeeping devices were still limited largely to the nobility alone.

“Did Yona arrive?”
“Good day, sir.”
“Calling me ‘sir’, you brat.”
“But you are a sir, aren’t you?”

Exchanging brief greetings with the holy knights guarding the entrance, Yona stepped inside. Despite Alevian’s confirmation of no detectable magic aura, Yona pondered if the complete lack of reaction upon entering the consecrated cathedral grounds meant there truly was none.

Amusingly, for practitioners of the same holy power, the treatment between priests and healers differed starkly. Priests were esteemed as the complete daughters and sons of the heavens, capable of expelling holy power outwards to perform purification and even healing safely.

Healers, in contrast, were simply “users of healing” as their title suggested. Unable to expel holy power externally, they could only directly channel it through touch.
So tasks like purification that priests handled with ease required healers to risk life and limb – pressing against demonic entities, or in Yona’s case, physically plunging her arm into wounds.
Healing too mandated direct contact with the afflicted area.

This fundamental limitation made equal treatment impossible. In the eyes of priests, healers using the same holy power were just half-capable cripples worthy of scorn. And healers, while unable to voice it openly, inevitably harbored resentment towards the arrogant priests in turn.
With healers being perhaps one out of twenty holy power users that became priests, such discriminatory attitudes only intensified.

‘If I was going to be reborn into this world, they should have just made me a priest instead. Why did it have to be as a damn healer?’
Yona grumbled internally as she walked down the hushed cathedral hallways. Outside, such thoughts rarely surfaced. But the cathedral seemed to dredge up lingering resentments and complaints.
And encountering that particular woman only exacerbated it further.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the deranged healer.”
A red-haired moppet blocked Yona’s path.

“Calling my hair deranged right off the bat? Isn’t that terribly rude, Priest Bigrind?”
“I’m simply stating a fact. For a woman who insists she was once a man, deranged hair seems befitting, no?”

Yona fell silent. This little brat before her – in truth, the girl barely came up to Yona’s chest in height – was the same age as Yona.
They had even joined the cathedral on the same day and initially got along well as peers.
That was until the Day of Judgement, when Bigrind became a priest while Yona was relegated to a healer.
From then on, their treatment radically diverged, with Bigrind openly disdaining Yona to the point of outright hostility whenever they crossed paths now.

“If you have no business, then make way. I’m heading to see the Tutoring Mother.”
Bigrind responded with a contemptuous smirk, wrinkling Yona’s brow in displeasure at that infuriating look.
“Huhung, by all means then. Go right ahead.”

“…Very well.”
Yona didn’t wait for Bigrind to move aside. She wanted to escape this displeasure as quickly as possible, no longer wishing to lay eyes on that hateful girl.
Giving Bigrind’s obstructing form a wide berth, Yona continued on her way.

“Teacher.”
“Yona, you’ve come.”
As always, Tutoring Mother Eije welcomed Yona warmly – one of the few priests who refused to discriminate between priests and healers, treating them equally as holy power users.
A peerless priest who spurned the cathedral’s factions to dedicate herself to nurturing children instead.
And the benefactor who had taken in Yona when she first arrived in this world, lost and despairing.

“It’s been a long time since I last saw you, Teacher.”
“Yes Yona, have you been well?”
“Yes, thanks to you.”
“Come, have a seat here.”
With a gentle smile, Eije offered Yona a plain wooden chair befitting her warm, unassuming demeanor.
Returning the smile, Yona took the proffered seat across from her.

“So, what brings you here today?”
“Oh, just…checking how you’ve been…”
Eije’s smile deepened at Yona’s words. Reaching out, she stroked Yona’s head affectionately as she spoke.
“You haven’t simply come to visit since graduating. You know I can tell when something is troubling you, don’t you?”

“My…My apologies.”
Now that she mentioned it, Yona realized Eije was right. She had only sought out the tutoring nun when faced with difficulties she couldn’t resolve alone.
“No no, if you weren’t coming to me, I would assume all was well. That would be the best news.”

“…The truth is, there is an issue.”
Yona mumbled hesitantly. She always felt her usual confidence falter before Eije, though she could never pinpoint exactly why.
“An issue? What issue?”

“Here, on my arm.”
Slowly, Yona pushed up her sleeve. As the cardigan fabric inched upwards, it revealed the dense inscribed script covering her arm from shoulder to wrist.
Eije’s eyes widened at the sight.

“Wh-What is this? Yona, what in the world is this? What happened?”
Where should she even begin explaining?
Taking a deep breath, Yona organized her thoughts before recounting the entire sequence of events that had led to this.

“…And that’s how it ended up like this.”
By the end of Yona’s explanation, Eije’s expression had darkened considerably. She had no prior knowledge regarding such markings.
As merely a nun rather than a holy power researcher, there was no way she could be versed in such matters.
Yet the fact that Yona had endured this bizarre condition clearly disturbed Eije.

“Let me take a look first. It extends all the way to your shoulder?”
“Yes.”
No sooner had Eije finished speaking than Yona swiftly stripped off her cardigan without hesitation.
Laid bare, the jet-black markings covering her from shoulder down to wrist made Eije’s breath catch.

“Good heavens…what, what is all this?”
Even just looking at those inky inscriptions provoked an unsettling revulsion. An instinctive sense of unease seemed to emanate from the glyphs themselves.
Staring too intently gave the illusion that they were almost writhing on their own.

“It doesn’t hurt?”
“No pain. No issues with movement or channeling my holy power either.”
“Is that so?”
Eije’s hand began to glow with a soft blue radiance as she gently stroked Yona’s arm. Despite the consecrated touch, Yona showed no reaction whatsoever – only a sense of pleasant warmth.

“Nothing, even with this?”
“No, no pain at all.”
It was indeed baffling. Despite the densely packed, ominous-seeming markings, there was no trace of any magic aura detectable whatsoever.
And the complete lack of response to holy power application seemed to suggest…
Perhaps these really were just mundane text, as they appeared.

“…I’ll look into this too, Yona. But you can’t keep walking around like this… Oh, and speaking of, what about your holy cloth? Why are you wearing that cardigan?”

Only then did Eije notice Yona’s lack of holy cloth wrappings.
“Well, after that…it became saturated with magic aura. So I discarded it there.”
“I see…”

Eije could scarcely conceive of it. Racking her brain, she could not recall any prior instances like this in her over forty years of life and experience.

“Very well then, for now.”
Rising, Eije rummaged through a wardrobe. She was certain she still had her old holy cloth from her active service days stashed away when she transitioned to tutoring duties.
“Found it.”

From a small wooden box, she retrieved a neatly folded holy cloth. After giving it a light shake, Eije turned back towards Yona.

“Mother?”
“Take this, Yona.”
“This is…?”
Yona accepted the proffered holy cloth blankly, looking up at Eije in confusion over her intentions.

“Use it, Yona.”
“Huh?”
“Holy cloths are expensive, are they not? You’ve been relying on shared rental ones this whole time. But now you’re a copper-ranked adventurer, so you deserve proper personal gear. It may not be top-tier quality, but serviceable enough for your needs now. I’m entrusting it to you.”

Eije smiled. The holy cloth she had once utilized herself as an armed priest during her own active adventuring days as a copper rank, she now passed down to Yona.

“You’ve worked hard, Yona. I know well how difficult it is for a healer to even reach that copper rank. So keep striving further – silver, gold, platinum, leave no realm unattained.”
Gently tapping Yona’s cheek, Eije’s expression turned solemn.
“…Promise me you won’t die, Yona.”