“I’m happy I could help.” He saw no reason to try to correct the tale.
“You did take a risk, though! Adventurers should think first about coming back alive,” the mayor cautioned him.
Strange to think that the people here are nicer to me than anyone ever was on Earth. Vandal was moved for a moment, thinking that there was hope for humans after all. However, he couldn’t drop his guard yet. Behind the kind mayor, there was the priest with a smile that looked a little tighter across the lips.
“To meet such a brave young lady as this, when I only happened to be here on my route around our churches. The hand of Alda has guided me, no doubt!” The priest certainly had a gentle tone. He took up the holy symbol around his neck—which looked something like a crucifix—and gave a small prayer of gratitude. He got Vandal’s gender wrong again, but that didn’t matter.
“Father, actually—”
“Hahaha, my dear mayor, there’s clearly nothing to fear. Alda only punishes the wicked. Even a dhampir will face no punishment if it does good deeds! From what I’ve heard so far, this little one has been living in the forest, far from human habitation. She can’t have been baptized yet. I could do that for you if you wish?” There was no murderous intent, no anger or hatred in the man, but the offer sounded awfully flimsy to Vandal. At least he had Detect Danger: Death running all the time, which wasn’t throwing out any warnings.
“Oh, it wasn’t a full-blown ceremony, but my mom did baptize me in the name of Vida,” Vandal replied.
Even if he wasn’t dealing with some kind of trap, Vandal certainly didn’t want to anything to do with Alda, and so he lied again.
“I see, I see. You had a fine mother, I’m sure.” The priest didn’t press him any further and left the scene.
The Olbaum Electorate Kingdom had been formed by a number of smaller nations coming together to protect themselves from the threat of the Amidd Empire. As a result, Olbaum did not prohibit the faith of the God of Law and Life Alda. They accepted those who believed in Vida, while also placing no restrictions on faith in Alda. That was because some of the original composite nations had people who followed Alda or his dependent gods.
However, this Alda religion was also not quite the same as the one in the Empire.
The Alda faith had a number of differing sects, for a start. As Olbaum believed in things like human rights for dhampirs, a more peaceful, conciliatory branch of the religion had developed there, which believed in letting even Vida’s new races live their lives so long as they obeyed the law and did good deeds. For clergy from the Amidd Empire, such ideas were pure heresy.
While the people in Ramda could be sure that the gods actually existed, such divine beings hadn’t actually been boots-on-the-ground for tens of thousands of years. Today, they could only impart their will to the people in limited ways, such as by sending Oracles. That meant that, across nations and regions, people had different interpretations of each god’s teachings and different variations in the faiths that they followed.
One perfect example of this was the conciliatory faction.
The conciliators had spread more easily in Olbaum due to there being more of Vida’s new races here. There were also political motives at play, as the Alda faithful needed to survive here after the war so badly damaged their reputation.
Earth had a lot of different religions that believed in the same god, Vandal recalled. I don’t know what Alda is thinking, but I doubt he’d be watching over all of his believers at all times and sending messages to correct them about this or that piece of minutia. So long as it works in my favor, I’m fine with it. Vandal wasn’t enamored with the condescending “you are forgiven for existing” tone, perhaps, but he also understood that his chief concern was with getting by—he couldn’t kick up a fuss about something quite so minor.
“Father, the medicine you provided . . . I’m sorry, but it doesn’t seem to be working.”
“In that case, please increase the dose. You should take twice as much in the future.”
“Father, can you please come and see our fields?”
“Of course. Alda is the god of all life.”
The villagers all wanted a piece of the priest, conversing with him on many topics and asking for all sorts of help. His smile might not have been very convincing, but the people seemed to trust him.
In the pioneer village, the tales of past holy men and great heroes as told by one of the cloth were probably among the only forms of entertainment. With his intellect and skills as a physician, the priest had likely earned their respect.
Then, there came a shout from outside.
“Father, please come! Iwan has fallen from the roof!”
That sounded bad. Vandal used Detect Life and did indeed notice a response that was unnaturally weak.
“How awful. I will come at once.”
Even as the priest spoke right behind him, Vandal smoothly slipped out of the General Store. Everyone’s attention was focused on the father, meaning no one noticed Vandal leave.
I can probably do something, so long as the poor guy isn’t dead. Ah, this must be the place. He flew over to the source of the abnormal reading, to find a man in his thirties lying on the ground, with a slightly younger-looking woman with a big round belly and a child smaller than Vandal.
“My darling! Hold on! The priest is coming!”
“Daddy! Daddy!” The man’s wife and child were clinging to him, but all the man could do was moan. His breathing was ragged, too. His face was pallid with the specter of death.
He’s badly hurt, Vandal appraised. It isn’t his bones, and it isn’t his internal organs. It was the worst case: something in his brain. That meant medicine on Ramda couldn’t do a thing. Magic might be able to save him, but they were on the outskirts of the village. Vandal determined that the man was likely to expire before the priest could even get here—and even when he did, he would need to be damn more skilled than he looked in order to make any kind of difference.
Naturally, Vandal could use Death Attribute magic and probably save this Iwan’s life. His wife wouldn’t need to lose her husband, and the children—inside and out—wouldn’t need to lose their dad. However, his goal for this trip had been to quietly register with the guild and then dash back to Talosheim. A child saving a life that only the highest-level Magicians could save? That sounded like standing out to him.
Do I stick to my guns, or let myself get swept away? Vandal sighed. I really don’t have a choice.
“A moment, please.” With that, he zipped smoothly forward, past Iwan’s child, and placed his hands on Iwan’s body.
“Eeek!!”
“Ahh! Who—what are you?!” As expected, the wife and child hadn’t seen him there until that moment.
“I’m Vandal, the dhampir of rumor visiting the village.” Even as he introduced himself, Vandal started Spirit Bodification. He made sure his audience couldn’t see what he was doing, extending tendrils from the palm of his hand pressed into Iwan, extending his spirit body inside the man. Vandal found bleeding in his cranium, with the pooling blood putting pressure on his brain.
I can use the tendrils to absorb the excess blood, Vandal thought, setting to work. Then repair the damaged blood vessel using Enhance Regeneration. Then I can fix the crack in his cranium . . . hmmm, he’s got a clot forming close to his heart. I can get that as well. Ah, a polyp in his large intestine. It looks like it might be malignant, so let’s fix that. And his athlete’s foot? Why not . . .
“Whatever do you think you’re—”
“Mommy! Daddy looks much better!”
“Oh, you’re right! Don’t tell me, you’re healing him?”
“That’s right,” Vandal assured her. “It won’t be much longer.”
This Iwan guy wasn’t in great shape. The simple life was often touted as being good for one’s health, but that certainly didn’t apply here.
Vandal had done all he could, anyway. He withdrew the tendrils and turned off the Spirit Bodification.
“That should do it. He will be awake shortly.” Vandal provided all of the strength and even nutrition needed for the repairs, so the man didn’t need any sleep. The blood pooling in his cranium had been delicious. Vandal decided to consider that the payment for his services.
Iwan stirred. “Ooh, what—happened to me?”
“Darling!”
“Daddy!” His wife and child hugged him at once. It was quite the emotional sight. This was what a family, a household, should be like.
“What’s going on? Why are you here?”
“I-Iwan?! You looked like death a moment ago! How are you up and about?”
Just as Vandal was feeling some appreciation for Iwan and the family he had nurtured, the priest and the mayor finally rocked up. Vandal’s only hope of getting out of this—apart from fully explaining his presence here—was to spin it as Iwan not actually being that badly hurt, and the man who rushed to the General Store had been jumping the gun.