The church never turns away a hero.
Even if you show up broke, even if your tab is a graveyard of unpaid notes—if you come to the church, we bring you back. That's the humane thing to do, or so a proper priest would say.
And no, the church doesn't keep a manual on how to collect from debtors with stacked tabs.
Do your job. Figure out your wages yourself. That's the wisdom from above.
Honestly, the higher-ups love their impossible orders.
"So," I say, wiping blood from my staff, "Allow me to demonstrate my personal method of collection."
Katarina gives me a wary look. "Um... why?"
"You die too often. You're a beginner—still green at fighting and at this whole hero society. Think of this as a field trip to the real world."
"You think I'm going to skip out, don't you? Don't worry. I'll pay the resurrection fee. It's just that today I, uh, happen to have nothing on me."
"By the way," I ask, "cause of death?"
"I'm... not quite sure. I ate a fire toad and, well, died."
It's not 'not quite sure,' is it! I knew something was off: your skin was fine, but your organs were charred.
Why would you eat something literally called a fire toad?
"It just didn't agree with me. Shame, though—the taste was good..."
Good? Your guts looked like a sieve. What kind of palate do you have?
Before she can say anything dumber, I catch Katarina by the wrist. "Enough. Come along. It's raining; you won't be adventuring anyway. Unless you're ready to pay your tab and today's resurrection fee right now. By the way, that staff—nice piece. It'd fetch a tidy price if—"
"I'll come with you."
"Good."
Fat raindrops drum against the dust-caked stained glass. Outside, a thin ribbon of lightning cracks the leaden sky.
Ah, perfect weather.
A fine day for collections.
We head to the town's taverns. It's a small town, but heroes flock here, so it keeps a pulse. Inns, weapon shops, armorers, item stores—and taverns enough to rival a capital.
We slip into a shady bar tucked down an alley.
And there he is.
"Business seems good, Gram," I call.
A rough-looking man is already drinking at noon. He blinks at me, then pastes on a feigned innocent smile.
"Priest-san, on vacation? Sometimes you need a drink or three, right? Hey, are priests even allowed to drink?"
"God permits priests to drink," I say. "God believes a priest cannot drown and lose himself in it. Likewise, we believe in you heroes. Chosen by God, you would never dream of skipping out on your resurrection fees."
I sit beside him and study his flushed face.
"But you betrayed my trust."
"Whoa, don't look at me like that. Your eyes are scary as it is—like I can't tell what you're thinking, like there's no life in them."
Shut it. Why am I getting face critiques from a man in debt?
My dead eyes? That's on you heroes.
Sew corpses back together every day, and even the brightest-eyed priest loses his sparkle by month three.
"...All right, all right," Gram grumbles. "I'll pay. I said I'll pay. Just give me time. Adventuring takes money. If I pay the fee and can't adventure, what's the point?"
"Still better than wasting your days in a bar."
He props an elbow on the table, shoving a neat stack of empty glasses to the far side like I won't notice. Cute trick. Useless on me.
I give him a flat stare. He flinches and springs to his feet.
"I'll make it big fast, you'll see! Quit nagging and wait!"
"Mind your tongue when you address a priest!"
"Shut up!"
He jabs me. I yelp and tumble off the chair. Robes be damned, I curl up on the floorboards, clutching my trembling arm.
"Ah—ah... God's right arm!"
"Priest-san! Are you all right!?"
"Tch. Dramatic much," Gram spits.
I hunch tighter, a poor inchworm guarding its hurt limb. The bell on the door rings.
"Priest-san! Thank goodness. You weren't at the church, and I feared—please, I beg you, resurrect my companion!"
A woman strides in, red hair like flame, silver armor throwing back the tavern's dim light. A knight, far too bright for a dive like this. She looks down at me and freezes.
"Eh? Priest-san? ...Priest—saaaaaan!"
She shakes me, tears in her eyes. When I don't respond, her shoulders sink.
"It's over... We'll never clear this land. There is no one left to resurrect us. We've become bodies that cannot die..."
Her despair ripples through the room. Most here are heroes too; plenty of familiar faces. They all know what happens if I'm gone.
Can't manage without me, can you?
Under the weight of those stares, Gram cracks first.
"Fine! Fine, I get it! I'll go earn!"
I slit one eye open and glance up at him. "Got a job in mind?"
"'Course."
"Good. Then let's move."
I stand. Katarina hurries to prop me up.
"Are you sure? Please don't push yourself."
"I'm a priest," I say. "Healing magic is what I do."
"When did you cast any healing magic?" Gram mutters. "You're just running a scam."
A gauntleted hand knots in his collar. The red-haired knight bares her teeth.
"You doubt Priest-san? If Priest-san says he did it, he did it."
"Whoa—what? Who even are you—"
"Aegis," I say, "it's fine. Stand down."
Aegis dips her head and leaves as if nothing happened. Katarina watches her retreating back, dazed.
"Who was that woman?"
"Hm? I didn't see anyone like that. Anyway, we should get moving."
"Priest-san, wait at the church. I'll handle this alone."
"I don't think so. Someone has to make sure you don't fund your 'donations' through illegal means."
Gram grinds his teeth, holding back a curse. If he really thought he could shake me off with a few vague words, he was a fool.
I wasn't letting him escape. God forgives many sins, but skipping out on debt isn't one of them.
He leads us to a cave just outside the town.
"Here. The treasure's in here."
"Here? But this isn't a dungeon—it's just a monster den. It's already been half-mapped. You really think there's treasure left?"
"For a priest, you know a lot. But your info's outdated. Monsters hoard loot. They uncovered a hidden chamber here recently. Leave the fighting to the pros."
We follow him deeper into the cave. The air grows damp and stale. This place is usually for rookie heroes—weak monsters, no surprises.
Gram, being somewhat competent, moves steadily downward without trouble.
But no matter how far we go, the 'hidden chamber' never appears.
"Um... Gram-san? Where exactly is this secret room? We're at the bottom, aren't we?"
"Yeah. Guess now's as good a time as any."
He stops and turns. Even in the dim light, his eyes gleam with something sharp and ugly.
"Heh... you were careless, Priest. It's your fault for trusting a hero."
The axe that had split monsters now swings toward us.
"You plan to kill me and erase your debt, is that it?"
"Relax. You die, another priest takes your place. Nothing changes. Go meet your god."
Unlike heroes, priests can't be resurrected. And few people wander this far into such a worthless den. Not a soul had passed us on the way down.
So that was his plan all along—lure us here, to his perfect little crime scene.
"Wh-what do we do, Priest-san? He looks way stronger than me..."
Her hands tremble around her staff. Katarina's no match for Gram; that much is obvious.
I pull her behind me.
"It's all right, Katarina. Stay back. Such a crude trick—how very small-time of him."
"Still pretending to be calm, huh?"
"How many heroes do you think I've resurrected, Gram? You among them, more times than I can count. Have you ever seen your own guts? The weave of your muscles, the threads of your nerves? No? I have. I know your body better than you do. Including the weak spots."
The bravado drains from his face. He takes a step back. Then another.
"When did you start believing priests were weak—lesser than heroes?"
"What's with this boss aura... Priest-san, are you actually strong?"
"Bastard! Don't mock me, you damn holy man!"
Gram roars and swings his axe. A burst of pain sears my shoulder; my vision paints itself red.
"Gwah!"
I crash to the cold stone floor.
"So... weak..."
Katarina looks at me with pity. Don't give me that look. I'm not built like you meatheads.
Damn it—there goes God's right arm again.
"Priest-san! What do we do!?"
Gram's axe turns toward her next.
"So you're a hero too. Don't worry, I'll bury you properly. You won't be resurrecting this time."
"Priest-saaaan!"
Her voice wavers through the haze. Too much blood lost. My head's swimming.
I force a smile, the kind that belongs on a saint's statue. "It's fine. If I got serious, I could kill him easily—but a priest mustn't stain his hands with blood."
"You little—!"
"That's why... I'll leave the rest to you."
Katarina blinks in confusion—then blood splashes across her cheek.
Silver armor flashes. Red hair like flame. Red spraying from a throat. Red, red, red.
Gram's head rolls to the floor, eyes wide in frozen disbelief.
The knight wipes her blade clean and looks down at me.
"Are you all right, Priest-san?"
"Yes. Thank you, Aegis. You saved me."
I murmur my gratitude, sealing the wound on my shoulder with quick healing magic. Damn it—another ruined robe. Hurts like hell, and I'm running low on blood. Perfect.
"Um... who is she?" Katarina asks, voice small.
Ah, I hadn't planned to introduce them—but perhaps this too is a lesson worth learning.
I rise unsteadily and say, "She's a holy knight. A believer who takes on the dirty work priests cannot."
"A... hero?"
"Yes. A hero who racked up resurrection debts across half the continent. You've seen her power yourself—it rivals a royal knight commander's. Her resurrection fees dwarf those of any ordinary hero. The debt's grown so immense it rivals a nation's budget. So, we struck a deal: she clears her debt through service."
"I-I see... then, what about that man?"
Gram's body is gone. He's a hero—his remains will have been sent to my church.
"Of course, we'll resurrect him. The real collection begins now. Isn't that right, Aegis?"
I glance back over my shoulder. Her blood-slick blade catches the light, gleaming like judgment itself.
Today truly has been a blessed day. Two debtors dealt with, and one novice shown the fate that awaits them.
Strike while the iron is hot.
She'll remember this day. I'll make sure of it.
I gently place a hand on Katarina's trembling shoulder.
Notes:
• Katarina - A female adventurer known for her cheerful demeanor but cursed with a tendency to die repeatedly.
• Gram - a male thug-like hero who frequently forgets to pay resurrection fees, occasionally snaps and tries to kill Julius, yet kind to children.
• Aegis - a female red-haired holy knight in silver armor, harsh to others and herself but shows weakness to Julius, to whom she swore loyalty, leads the Secret Police Squad.