The old hag was dead.
No doubt about it. The knife belonged to Abigail—the so-called “Queen Bee.”
◇◆
I’d collapsed after the stabbing, and her little swarm had dragged into a cheap inn nearby.
When I finally ca to, my head throbbed like a forge, and the first face I saw was Oni-girl’s anxious one.
“Ah, Di! You’re awake! Thank goodness. Abby!”
Through my blurred vision, Abby appeared. She took my hand and, with a dreamy look, pressed her cheek against it.
“Di, thank goodness. You’re the one who’ll lift us all out of this cesspit. Truly… thank goodness. You’re our destiny…”
Murderer.
I didn’t aspire to be anyone’s damned “destiny.”
I’ll escape. No matter what.
“Di, you’ve been asleep for three days. Surely it was an oracle of Asclepia. Even an old hag like her could serve as a herald. She blessed you at the end…”
An oracle of Asclepia? That?
That which is whole is one.
That which is one divides into many.
That which is many returns to a whole,
and in wholeness, eternal unity.
The two hands of Asclepia:
One heals, one takes away.
Abby’s voice softened.
“Did you feel it, Di? Was Asclepia’s voice warm and clear?”
“Yeah.”
My curt reply only deepened her smile. She turned to the others.
“Di. That hymn belongs only to you. Offer it up and pray every day without fail. Then Asclepia will teach you everything. No need to crawl to that shitty church.”
Yes, I must pray as a devout apostle of Asclepia.
Pray to my rciful Mother, jealous though she is. The stronger the prayer, the greater the sacrifice on her altar, the more she gives.
What a stingy woman.
Mother is miserly, stingy to the bone. Even after blood-soaked training, after offering everything, she parts with only scraps.
I know. I know it too well.
Dietrich Becker.
You despised such a goddess—and shoved the weight of your destiny onto before vanishing.
But my hymn was incomplete.
The old crone fought to pass it on, but Abby cut it short.
Ada, you filthy, naless crone…
Rest easy.
Mother Asclepia is stingy, and she loves revenge.
I prayed in silence.
The Two Hands of Asclepia. One heals, one takes away.
Nothing left to regret, Ada. Be embraced by Mother’s hand and sleep in peace.
Bitter irony and rciless vengeance were Mother’s favorites.
One day…
Queen Bee will pay.
I cut the sign of blessing.
◇◆
Morning ca.
The common room of the shabby inn was barely big enough for four or five adults, yet ten children were cramd in like sardines.
I lay in the best bed, tucked in Abby’s arms.
“Abigail?”
Oni-girl, Dwarf-girl, even Cat-girl and Rabbit-girl were piled together on the other beds—Abby’s orders, no doubt.
Special treatnt, but far too obvious.
Good breeds good. Evil breeds evil. This too will sow seeds of fate.
When I sat up, Abby stirred and opened her eyes.
“Good morning, Di. Call Abby, won’t you?”
That was too familiar, but…
“…Yeah, Abby.”
If a single word could change how I was treated, I’d play along.
I might look like a scrawny brat, but inside, I was a grown man. I could shape this ragged crew into sothing better.
Though… whether it worked or not depended on Abby and the children.
That morning, Abby handed out hard biscuits to the kids.
“Abby. No soup line at the church today?”
“Mm…”
When she turned, I noticed it—her face thinner, more worn.
It was easy to forget that, even if she could kill without hesitation, she was still just a child who should have been under soone’s care.
“Feed them properly. Those scraps won’t give them strength.”
I pointed at the three biscuits each child held. To my surprise, Abby didn’t argue.
“You’re right. Yeah, let’s do that.”
She doubled the rations. The kids lit up, cheering, but Abby only shook her empty pouch with a wry smile.
“Flat broke now… nothing left.”
She’d squeezed out the last of their food. With that, lodging money was gone too. That was their reality.
And yet she still listened to . The word of a “priest” carried such weight.
“You got any prospects for cash?”
“…”
She shook her head, tired, looking straight at .
“What about the money you gave Ada? Dead people don’t need coins.”
“I’m no demon. I let her take it with her.”
“I see.”
She hadn’t wanted to—but she still had principles.
I didn’t fully understand this world, but it was clear: keeping , the so-called priest, was worth the risk.
After a mont, I asked,
“If I say I’ll handle it, is there a way?”
At that, Abby lit up, smiling widely.
“If you’ll say that, then yes!”
So she’d counted on from the start. That explained the treatnt.
The kids were beyond hungry.
If I could do sothing, I would. And sowhere deep inside, Dietrich Becker whispered, You can.
For now, I needed to find out what I could do… and what I couldn’t.
◇◆
Abby herded the kids out of the inn.
The wind carried the grit of sand.
Above us, the sun blazed rcilessly.
Nights here froze you to the bone. Days burned you alive.
For a re human like , this land was harsh. Without Abby picking up, I’d have died. Whatever else she was, I owed her.
“So? What’s the plan?”
Abby nodded, eyes steady.
“We’ll set up a healing stall.”
Her plan was simple:
I—Dietrich Becker—was a priest. That ant I carried the power of Asclepia.
A priest’s gift: to heal, to push back sickness and darkness. With training, I could do more, but I was starting blind. Even the old had no answers yet.
Abby explained that there were healers, too, but they were below a priest.
“Di, we’ll make money off your power.”
“Will that work?”
“Oh yeah. The church heals, sure, but they bleed people dry with ‘donations.’ We’ll undercut them. Plenty of back-alley healers do the sa. We’ll just be another.”
It sounded simple. Too simple, I thought.
“I’ll bring the clients. You just do your thing, Di.”
Oni-girl tugged my sleeve.
“You sure you can handle it?”
“I’ll handle it.”
To live, you work. That’s true in any world. I’d managed before. I’d manage here.
“If it works, we’ll leave the sewers behind.”
“I see.”
At the very least, we could secure food and a roof. My human body wouldn’t last long in that hole.
“…”
I felt nearly ten pairs of young eyes fixed on .
“Di. From now on, you’re No. 2,” Abby said.
I didn’t see much glory in that title, but I understood the weight. If I did nothing, I’d be just another street rat.
Not happening.
I said nothing, only lifted my hand and made the holy sign.
May Mother Asclepia’s blessing be upon us.
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