Never Mind the Heir, I’ll Focus on Healing - Chapter 119

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Successor? I Couldn’t Care Less — Let’s Just Heal. Episode 119

“Then let us proceed with today.”
“……Yes. I humbly ask for your guidance.”
“Have no worries! God’s Blessing will always be with you.”

The Priest finished the formal pleasantries and kindly escorted the couple and Peter out of the Temple.

“Peter. Where would you like to sleep tonight?”

Violeta, the lady of the household, lowered herself to meet Peter’s gaze and asked his preference.

“……I’d like to stay at the Orphanage again.”
“Ha! You could come home with us if you’d like……Oof!”

Jab!

Violeta’s fingers drove swiftly into her husband Ferguson’s ribs.
Ferguson stifled a cry of pain.

“Right then. I’ll take you there.”

Violeta did not press Peter further, accepting his choice to remain at the Orphanage.
She understood well how heavily her words would weigh upon the boy’s heart.
Ferguson, catching her meaning, hastily changed the subject.

“Y-yes. You’re happier with your friends, aren’t you! Ha, my dear! Shall we go?”
“Yes.”
“…….”

Peter understood their hearts well enough.
They were nothing like the self-proclaimed parents he’d met before.
Was that why—or was it from hearing about the ritual at the Temple—
Peter’s heart grew uneasy.
Until now, he had thought adoption didn’t matter either way.
He had even believed that if he were sent back, he could simply return here as always.
But now.

‘What if I become bound to the Temple instead?’

If that happened, where would his home truly be?
Confusion settled over him.
As Peter walked, he quietly reached out and grasped Violeta’s hand.

“……!”

Violeta’s eyes widened at his touch, blinking rapidly.
For a moment tears threatened to spill, but she held them back, carefully folding her hand around his small one.
Then, as if to reassure him, she squeezed gently and continued toward the Orphanage.

“Well, here we are.”

When they arrived at the Orphanage, Peter, embarrassed, quickly let go of her hand.
Violeta, content with even that much, smiled brightly and bid him farewell.
Only after watching Peter’s figure disappear into the crumbling building of the Orphanage did Violeta heave a deep sigh.
In truth, though she hid it, her worry was considerable.

“My dear. But……what if. What if a situation truly did arise?”
“You mean about having Divine Power?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t worry yourself, madam. It’s hardly an everyday occurrence.”

Violeta knew this well enough.
Besides, if we were speaking of a saint and a candidate for Archbishop, it seemed reasonable enough to overlook a modest display of Divine Power.
And yet unease persisted.

“If our greed were to cost that child even the sanctuary of his own heart……”

Violeta gazed back along the path she had walked until now.
At its end stood the Temple.

“Madam. It won’t happen. Please, don’t trouble yourself.”

Ferguson wrapped his wife’s slender shoulders firmly in an embrace.

“Does God seem so heartless to you? He has seen everything—how desperately we have longed for that child.”

And then……
Her husband pressed his lips to his wife’s and whispered tenderly.

“If, by some chance, what the Priest spoke of were to come to pass…… we would have to hear Peter’s wishes. There, he could live in comfort and be loved more lavishly.”
“……”
“But if Peter does not desire that, then we shall shield him by any means necessary.”

Ferguson laughed warmly and playfully wrinkled his nose.

“Why do you think I’ve worked so hard to amass my fortune?”
“My dear……”
“There will be a way, no matter what. If all else fails, we can always seek exile!”

It was an absurd thing to say.
Yet Violeta understood her husband’s heart completely.
He meant they would save him, by any means.
Even if that force were the Temple itself…… or even God.
The couple clasped hands tightly.
Yes.
If they were this anxious, what must Peter be feeling in his heart?
The couple resolved to keep their eyes on Peter alone.
They had made that decision from the moment they first met him.
Peter was already as much their child as if they had given birth to him.

* * *

‘Here we go again.’

Priest Licht occasionally experienced vivid dreams.
Premonition Dreams—what some called the utterances of God.
In the still-darkened landscape of sleep, Licht spoke softly to himself.
He was thinking, his voice was present, yet without form or lips, his mind remained quiet and peaceful.
Though Premonition Dreams did not come often, having experienced them several times before, Licht endured the silence of that state without resistance, free of fear, simply waiting.
For God’s utterance.
For the vision he was meant to see.

‘But……’

Today felt different, somehow.
Ordinarily, God’s utterance begins at once.
A brief black landscape would appear, and then the Premonition Dream would unfold before him.
Yet now, though what felt like considerable time had passed, the landscape remained as dark as ever.
Unable to hear the precise situation or any sound at all.
Then how was he to confirm what was happening?
As he turned that question over in his mind,
Licht’s vision opened into brightness.

‘……Phew.’

Licht released the tension that had gripped his body.
It seemed his anxious mind had merely played tricks on him.
Now then, let me see what I need to understand.
Licht slowly surveyed his surroundings.
His most recent dream had shown the children of the Orphanage sleeping peacefully and content.
And this vision was……

‘The same place?’

It was unmistakably that same Orphanage.
Yet the feeling was entirely different.
Where once there had been verdant green, now everything lay shrouded in ashen gray.
The children were weeping. And beside them stood a couple, frozen in what seemed like profound anguish.
And beside them……
The Younger Brother he had seen before was wandering as if searching for someone.

‘Sorrow. Anguish. A search for someone. So……’

It was a deeply troubling vision.

‘I must visit the Orphanage again.’

After grasping the situation, Licht began to close his eyes.
It was nearly time to wake from the dream.
Or so he thought……
The light before his eyes seemed oddly persistent.
Was this another Premonition Dream?

‘How unusual.’

By nature, a Premonition Dream was like glimpsing fragments of fate that God himself commanded.
Since such visions consumed vast amounts of the spiritual strength that formed the foundation of Divine Power, God rarely granted two Premonition Dreams in succession……
Licht pushed aside his confusion and opened his eyes once more.
Unexpectedly, the dream revealed a place not far away.

‘This is…… the Temple?’

The Prayer Room of the Temple where Licht currently dwelt came into focus.
In the center of the Prayer Room stood the statue of Anyatras, majestic and solemn, bearing the Eternal Flame.
The emerald fire burned ceaselessly, radiating brilliant and sacred light.

‘……No.’

The light did not emanate from the flame alone.
Licht’s gaze dropped swiftly to the space before the statue.
There stood someone, shining with resplendent light.
A slender man with long platinum hair bound loosely back.
His noble bearing and refined clothes seemed to overlap with someone he had seen before, yet Licht could not be certain.
What mattered was that the man’s body radiated an overwhelming abundance of sacred light—divine in its intensity.

‘How can power of such magnitude exist……!’

Even Licht, who was thought to have been born under God’s favor, nearly found his knees buckling before that force.
It was a power so intense that even the Archbishop had never exhibited anything like it.
Licht took a step back and called out to the figure.

“Forgive me, but who are you? What brings you to this place?”

The figure turned slowly at the sound of Licht’s voice.
But then—

Whoosh!

A violent burst of flame spread in an instant, swelling to an astonishing size, and then—
it swallowed Licht whole.

“Gasp!”

And with that, Licht awoke.
The shock of the dream left his entire body drenched in cold sweat.
For a moment, the flame of Licht’s Divine Power flickered before fading away.

“Hah… hah…”

Licht breathed heavily, his eyes moving slowly in the darkness.
At least this place was reality.

‘What was that dream?’

One troubling Premonition Dream.
And then, in succession, something so overwhelming he hardly dared to face it.

“I need to confirm this.”

Licht rose slowly from his bed, straightened his clothes, pulled on white gloves over his scarred hands, and left the room.

* * *

Lion was carefully wrapping an Asteri Block Set in his room.
He’d fashioned thick paper into a box shape and arranged the small colored blocks neatly inside by color.
Then he’d even sketched some example illustrations to spark the imagination—and the result was a gift box far better than he’d expected.
It looked quite presentable.

‘This will do nicely.’

Satisfied, Lion packed up the block set and tucked bottles of Sikhye into his bag for the Orphanage children.

“Sir, allow me to carry the rest.”

Ricshel, who had been watching, loaded his own large bag with more Sikhye and snacks.
With Ricshel’s help, Lion found it much easier to shoulder his bag.
The liquid-filled containers were quite heavy.

“Phew! All set then?”
“Of course, sir.”
“Then let’s head out!”

Lion and Ricshel set off at once.

‘It feels strange.’

Ricshel remembered the first time he’d taken his brother out like this.
Back then, he’d been so anxious, wondering if his brother would make it even one more day.
So he had forged a connection with the Priest in a somewhat forceful manner, attempting to get him to provide treatment.
In truth, the plan had succeeded, but the purpose had failed.

‘I thought he was just an ordinary priest. But this Licht fellow……’

What the Magic Noble House uncovered by penetrating the Temple’s stringent information networks was astonishing.
The priest Licht was a man of tremendous skill—so formidable that the Temple even considered him as a candidate for Archbishop.
If that were the case, then that Divine Power of his must have been genuine.
And yet Licht had neither healed his brother’s condition nor improved it.

‘Because my brother never recovered.’

So it weighed on him—the thought that his brother had pushed himself, that his scheme had been the cause. He felt ashamed, apologetic.
He had no face to show.
In truth, he could have blamed himself for it all.
His brother was quite perceptive. He might well have noticed from the start that he was going to the Mill, far from the Estate.
Yet his kindhearted brother had said nothing about it.
Rather……

“The Priest seems remarkably skilled. My body feels better than ever.”

That is what his brother had said.

‘If it hadn’t been for the Labyrinth……’

Perhaps his brother would not be walking out with him like this, heading to the Orphanage, but would instead be lying in his sickbed, gazing out the window.

‘It borders on providence.’

Ricshel assessed the Labyrinth incident with cold clarity.
His brother had survived because he possessed remarkable talent and the will to live, but gaining Mana and recovering his body—that had been the work of Fate itself.

“Still, the bag’s getting a bit heavy, isn’t it?”

Lion paused as he noticed his younger brother’s footsteps growing sluggish, and asked gently.

“No, sir. I’m simply glad. And the bag is light.”
“……Is that so?”

Surely it must be heavy?
Had the Hot Spring’s effects been that beneficial?

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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