Never Mind the Heir, I’ll Focus on Healing - Chapter 318

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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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I Don’t Know About Being a Successor — All I Want Is to Heal, Chapter 318

The Archbishop looked around.
It was a place he could navigate with his eyes closed, so familiar had it become.
Where the previous Archbishop’s funeral had been held.
Where the Archbishop made his residence.
The Grand Temple.

……

The Archbishop set down the Teleportation Scroll he’d been holding.
The moment Lion had stepped into the room, he’d asked for the coordinates of the Grand Temple.
Saying he would use this Teleportation Scroll.
Under normal circumstances, it should never have been allowed.
No matter how urgent the matter, information about the Grand Temple’s location was not something he could divulge to the younger son of a marquess without standing.
Especially not when that marquess family was one known as a Magical Famous Family.
Priests who wielded Holy Power and mages inevitably harbored poor relations with one another.
If word of this leaked outside, it would cause more than ordinary upheaval.
There could even be talk that he was unfit for the title of Archbishop.
And yet.

‘Such titles mean nothing.’

It was only ever a means to confirm her final moments.
His Holy Power was strong, but his faith would pale compared to a novice priest freshly ordained.
So he told him without hesitation.

“Lion.”

The Archbishop forced his stubborn lips to move, producing sound.
And he asked in a way that wouldn’t offend the mood of the one who held the answers.

“That Holy Power I felt a moment ago……”
“Yes.”
……!

The Archbishop’s eyes widened impossibly.
Lion Asteri possessed a certain answer at this very moment.
And he intended to share it with him.

‘……But why?’

It wasn’t as though he were handing out carrots as thanks for handling Boaresia well.
Lion Asteri was kind to the weak but infinitely cold toward the strong like himself.
So only one possibility remained.

“I swear, if there is anything I can do — or even if there is not — I will do it.”

He was useful.
In a way only Luceneth himself could be.
Or perhaps.

‘Perhaps in a way only I can understand.’

That was enough.
In a situation drawing closer to truth, there was no need for schemes or tricks.
And Lion Asteri was the sort who might exclude people, but would not use them or cast them into despair.
……He had to be.
If he missed this chance, he would never obtain that answer.
Why she had to die.
Why she passed without a single word.
Whether the Hero was truly responsible.

“……If you wish, I can recite a prayer sworn to the Divine.”

The Archbishop hid his trembling hands in the folds of his vestments, struggling to conceal his anxiety.
He had swallowed hard more times than he could count.
Despite how little time had actually passed.

“That won’t be necessary. We’ll discuss it later.”

Lion declined the Archbishop’s offer.
His pupils moved with subtle precision—unmistakably calculating something.
The tremor was minuscule, yet the Archbishop, heightened by anticipation and dread, caught it.
And when that gaze finally settled. Judgment would arrive.
Fortunately.

“Is there a location within the Temple connected to counterfeit currency?”

Luceneth’s suspicion had been correct.
Still, the question struck him as oddly sudden.
Counterfeit currency—fake coins, surely.
The Temple wasn’t in such poverty.
True, it paled compared to the great magical families, but that didn’t drive it to crime.
It had always scrupulously avoided blackening the name of the Divine.

“Think carefully. Is there none?”
“The Temple has no connection to counterfeit currency. Forgeries might turn up anywhere, but that wouldn’t be the answer we seek.”

He wasn’t lying.
Luceneth himself wanted desperately to find the answer to this clue.
The Temple and counterfeit currency.
……Counterfeit currency.

“……!”

The Archbishop’s eyes widened.
There was one.
Exactly one place existed.
Connected to the Temple, and it held counterfeit currency.

‘Related to her.’

A place only he could enter now.
The Archbishop nodded at Lion and began to move.
Fortunately, it wasn’t far.
Being a specially maintained location, not even the holy knights stood watch—there was no need to hide their faces.
It hardly mattered if blood still clung damp to the Archbishop’s vestments, or if beside him walked one bearing the violet eyes that symbolized House Asteri.

“Here it is.”

Among all the places he managed, the one he held most dear.
The one the previous Archbishop had completed, the first he himself had ever tended…….
The Sanctuary.
The Archbishop used Holy Power to open the Sanctuary’s door.
Inside, the atmosphere bore considerable resemblance to the Sanctuary that Licht had completed.
The one difference was a massive tree standing at the very heart of the Sanctuary.
In truth, it was a tree that shouldn’t have been there.

“It’s a Sacred Tree. She told me she planted it here in commemoration of receiving a gift from Boaresia. That’s what she said to me.”

Longing saturated every word the Archbishop spoke.
He sounded like a man lost in reverie.

‘Yes. That’s how it was.’

After the war ended, when all the heroes scattered back to their respective places.
She. Luminé.

“Luceneth.”

On a pitch-black night, she’d gently roused him from deep sleep and brought him here.

“But… surely, even if the elves call it a Sacred Tree, planting something like that in the Sanctuary…”
“Hush. One sapling is harmless. It’ll be our secret, won’t it?”

As she’d planted the tiny seedling, she’d smiled at him like a mischievous child.

“And… there we go. Later, when everyone learns this tree is a Sacred Tree, we can use this as an excuse. ‘The Archbishop needed to purify this object, Your Grace,’ you can say.”

That was the counterfeit coin.
A plain, unmarked coin—someone poor had tossed it down in haste after finishing their prayer, then fled.
Ordinarily, the sacred Temple would bar entry to anyone who’d committed a sin within its walls, but Luminé had kept that counterfeit coin, always carrying it with her, as if it were real.
Yes.
It was mine.

“B-but still…”
“Come on. Anyatras would’ve approved too. Here—why don’t we put a letter in this box? A memory for us to open when you’ve grown?”

At the time, he’d assumed she felt sorry for neglecting him, dragged about by the war’s demands as she was.

‘After she passed.’

He never opened it.
Rather, wouldn’t.
Because he couldn’t accept why she had to die.
If he opened that letter, his rage and obsession might crumble to ash.
And if she’d died unjustly—then it was his burden to see her vindicated.

‘He must have seen her.’

However it had happened, Lion had witnessed Luminé.
There was no other way he could know.

“…Are you all right? Did you see her?”
“……”

Lion didn’t answer, and the Archbishop asked no more. Instead, he moved—kneeling before the Sacred Tree, whose roots now ran deep, and began digging reverently with his bare hands.
He knew the exact spot.
He’d wrestled with this decision countless times, and come to fret over it each visit.
Even in the Sanctuary, he feared the old box and its letters might succumb to rot and the ravages of time.

Why had he let such a thin layer of earth shield it all these years?
The Archbishop felt a hollow ache as he carefully withdrew the box and lifted its lid.

“……Ah.”

The letter was intact.
Crisp, as though it had been written and placed away only yesterday.
What was written inside contained nothing but the most trite, hackneyed advice to be read only after reaching adulthood.
Do not be a picky eater. Sleep at proper hours.
Pray diligently and do not hate others.
As though she had thought the box would be opened soon after all.
The Archbishop tucked the letter into his robe, on the side unstained by blood.
Then he withdrew that crude coin.
Dirty, warped, bearing no proper imprint—this counterfeit currency held words engraved upon it.

—So that Luceneth may live in peace.

And on the reverse side.

—I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you sooner.

He had come to understand so much.
That she had not chosen an unjust death.
That she had sacrificed herself for him, for a better world.
And that he had squandered the peace she had created for him while still questioning the manner of her death.

“I apologize for interrupting this moment of remembrance, but might we revisit the matter we discussed earlier?”
“……Yes. Of course.”

Much remained unresolved.
Emotion welled up in his chest, and his voice trembled more than usual.
He could not muster the smile he wore habitually.
Yet his mind remained sharp and clear.
The Archbishop wiped his face and rose from his seat, turning his gaze to Lion.
Had it not been for Lion, he would never have thought to excavate these shallow graves in his lifetime.
It was reason enough to swear an oath to give all that he possessed.
Just as he was about to recite a prayer of vows.

“……Lion.”

Only then did he sense something amiss.
Lion Asteri was not himself.
Particularly.

‘His eyes.’

More precisely, his focus seemed off.
Certainly, when they had first arrived at the Grand Temple, all had appeared well.
His expression had been somewhat stiff, but his complexion had been sound.
His condition had deteriorated rapidly.
But why?
He had noticed nothing amiss.

“You……!”
“There is little time, so I will speak quickly. First, I need your Holy Power, Archbishop. Second, if it is insufficient, please summon Priest Licht.”
“Wait, what are you—”

Patter-patter.

Blood spilled in abundance to the floor.
Red liquid cascaded from between the hand covering his mouth.
Lion spat out the blood with the composure of one who had anticipated this, and continued speaking.

“Third. From this moment on, I’ll be powerless.”

Lion unfastened the Pendant that blocked his abilities and shoved it into his Inventory.
Even after the Pendant was unequipped, Lion felt nothing change in his body.

“Fourth. This one isn’t strictly necessary, but…….”

Lion’s body gave way.
Luceneth quickly caught him, supporting his weight.
A coughing sound erupted, and something hot spilled across his shoulders and back.

‘It really is a severe Penalty.’

Lion simply closed his eyes against the encroaching darkness of his vision.

[A severe Penalty has been applied.]
[All abilities are temporarily lost.]
[Your body returns to its state before sensing Mana.]
[As a side effect of Expert’s Eye, most of your vision is temporarily damaged.]

Loss of all abilities combined with deteriorating vision.
The aftershock was devastating.
He could no longer hear Tieramatrak’s voice, and even the Mana Circle bound by contract had vanished.
The Mana he’d accumulated over all this time was gone as well.
Reduced in an instant to a state as if he’d become a cripple, he nearly collapsed backward midway through, consciousness slipping.
Choking on blood was almost a minor inconvenience by comparison.
Still, he had to say this one last thing.

“Cough… please… keep this from the family.”

They could call it a kidnapping if they wanted, or claim he still had business to attend to. Either excuse would work.
His family worried far too much as it was.
If they saw him like this, the shock would be more than ordinary.
But…….

‘I’m not dead.’

If one of the two deaths the Saintess had spoken of were now, the Penalty description would have listed a comatose state or death as a consequence.
So if he endured through it by pouring out Holy Power for several days, he’d recover.

‘In Story Mode too, things improved once the Saintess used Holy Power.’

If the Penalty operated by a similar principle, it would certainly help.
At least he’d won the Archbishop’s complete trust, so he’d managed to douse the immediate fire.
……In any case, he needed sleep.
Lion finally let go of the thread of consciousness he’d barely been holding onto…….

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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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