Ch.9191. Medical Care in the Rom Empire

In this world, there exists a magic known as healing magic, or curative magic.

As the name suggests, this magic treats external wounds, internal injuries, and even goes as far as curing diseases and curses….

At least in this world, it remains the exclusive domain of priests who still serve the gods.

This magic, which uses prayer as a medium and employs divine energy (magical power) to heal others, naturally varies in effectiveness depending on the caster’s ability.

A priest who has reached the advanced level can heal someone in a single attempt if life still remains, and can even treat congenital defects or mental disorders.

On the other hand, the limitations of healing performed by ordinary lower-level priests, who make up the majority, are quite clear. Severe wounds may leave scars, and they wouldn’t even attempt to treat particularly severe curses.

Nevertheless, even this lower-level healing magic is still magic after all. Compared to the medicine of this era, it can at least reliably save human lives….

Perhaps because the Rom Empire was influenced by its model, the Roman Empire, or because they had reached a level where they understood the concept of disinfection even without knowing the exact principles of surgical treatment, when a lower-level priest and a specialized doctor combined their efforts, they could even perform abdominal surgery.

However, not everyone could receive the blessings of such advanced medical techniques.

The temples of gods, whose mindset was worse than that of capitalists in the age of imperialism, united under the name of the Pantheon and exponentially increased the cost of healing magic.

To receive a single Level 1 healing spell, one must pay a whole gold talent, which would be equivalent to about 4 million won in real terms.

Although the standard for setting prices differs from reality, making direct comparisons somewhat inaccurate, it was undeniable that the cost was so high that it placed a significant burden on people’s livelihoods.

Of course, there were rare righteous individuals who couldn’t accept this reality and secretly went around providing healing services….

But these good Samaritans typically had their powers revoked by the gods they served for “interfering with business,” after which they would be found dead, having fallen victim to the mysterious Phobos Gang whose identity remained unknown.

At the very least, for injuries like lacerations, cuts, or broken bones, one could receive treatment from a skilled doctor at a price that, while expensive, wasn’t as extortionate as the temples.

However, even these highly skilled doctors faced limitations due to the era when it came to treating poisoning or diseases. Particularly, it was common knowledge that disease specialists were charlatans in 99.9% of cases, not just in this era but even in somewhat more advanced times.

Therefore, if one fell ill and folk remedies failed, they had no choice but to rely on the temples, and those who couldn’t pay for the treatment they would receive there…. what could they do?

They would slowly deteriorate until they finally met death, or face the desperate future where, even after managing to gather money, their symptoms would worsen beyond the initial stage, requiring even stronger healing magic.

“A-ah, Ag…. Agha……”

“Mother……”

And this reality was being equally applied to Agrippa, an ordinary day laborer, and his mother.

Agrippa’s mother had been suffering from an unknown fever for a month.

This family was so poor that they barely survived day to day on the money Agrippa earned. They didn’t even have a home and were barely getting by renting a tiny room.

In this situation, with his mother’s health already poor, when she fell ill, Agrippa, who could do absolutely nothing, could only try his best to somehow gather money for treatment.

But how could a mere day laborer like Agrippa, who had only residency rights without citizenship, possibly gather the enormous sum of one gold talent?

When even families with decent jobs couldn’t afford that gold talent, Agrippa ultimately found himself in a position where he could only watch his beloved mother die.

Back in their hometown, they had been driven out because his widowed mother faced baseless superstitions, yet she had still devotedly cared for him when he was young. Now he had to watch her suffer and gradually lose her mind.

Of course, he tried his best to find a solution somehow… but it was in vain.

There was no way to get the money, he had no connections with priests, and he had no high social status.

‘O God… please take pity on my mother… a miracle… your mercy…’

Therefore, with prayer being his only recourse, he prayed every day in front of various famous temples, praying, and praying again.

But no matter how much he prayed, there was no response, and no god showed any reaction to him, so he began to inwardly pour out his anger and hatred toward the incompetent gods.

No, to be precise, even if they were competent, it wouldn’t have mattered much to him.

Anger, rage, and burning vengeance that threatened to burst forth.

As Agrippa was contemplating whether to give up while burning with such emotions that could be called blasphemous toward the gods who had abandoned him… right around that time.

“Hey, did you hear that rumor?”

“…What is it?”

“You know, about the Cult of Vengeance?”

“Yeah, they’re famous. But why bring that up?”

While temporarily employed to carry goods for a merchant company, Agrippa happened to hear a rumor about the Cult of Vengeance from an old friend he met by chance.

“They say they provide free treatment to the families of their believers. You know, like that lady who used to run the bakery.”

“That person?”

“Yes, that lady! They say her son was dying from an illness, but he was cured with the help of the Cult of Vengeance!”

The tone and manner of his excited friend seemed somewhat exaggerated… but since he had nothing to lose anyway, it wouldn’t be bad to give it a try.

Even if they were a cult group with quite a notorious reputation within the city, Agrippa never had choices to begin with.

So, after some deliberation, Agrippa decided to approach this suspicious group, and that evening…

As he was trudging back to his miserable home through a quiet back alley,

“…?!!”

At the entrance to the small room where his family lived as tenants, a suspicious figure in robes was standing quietly.

The figure was wearing a red robe that was long and wide enough to completely cover the skin.

The robe was made of quite thick fabric, making it impossible to discern the figure’s physique…

But one thing was certain—this person was of considerable size.

A giant completely covered in an expensive red robe.

It was an appearance that anyone would be wary of, but for some reason…

“…Are you?”

Feeling an inexplicable sense of trust from this unidentified giant, Agrippa tried to address him with as much courtesy as his limited knowledge allowed.

*Clink*

“…?!!!”

The emblem that the giant took out from inside his robe and held up was something Agrippa remembered clearly.

The identity of that emblem—a skull positioned between crossed crucifixes—was none other than the symbol of the Cult of Vengeance, something he had been told countless times to report immediately if discovered.

“Are you… from the Cult of Vengeance?”

*Nod*

In response to Agrippa’s speculation, the giant nodded in affirmation, then turned around and strode into the family’s small room.

“W-wait a moment—Aah!”

Momentarily confused by what happened without time to stop it, and despite being flustered by the giant’s incredible speed that belied his size, Agrippa followed after him.

The suspicious giant, who had somehow entered the room where his family lived, was kneeling before Agrippa’s mother, taking out a brass cup from inside his robe.

“What are you doing now…?”

[…Shhhhhhh.]

Agrippa tried to protest against this suspicious behavior, but his attempt was neutralized by a simple gesture as the giant brought his finger to his lips.

Feeling a charisma in that action that he couldn’t rationally comprehend, Agrippa froze, and meanwhile, the giant fed some red liquid from the brass cup to his mother.

“…?!!”

A miracle occurred.

The moment the red liquid went down her throat, the changes in Agrippa’s mother were miraculous.

Her withered skin instantly began to regain its color, and her eyes, which had turned gray and lost their luster (cataracts), began to show signs of life again.

The change was so evident that anyone could see she had regained her health… but that wasn’t all.

“Agri…ppa?”

Unlike before, when she could barely speak due to her clouded mind from excessive fever, his mother called his name with a voice that reflected clear consciousness.

“Mo-mother, Mother…!”

Overcome with emotion and shedding tears profusely, Agrippa turned his head to thank the giant who appeared to be a member of the Cult of Vengeance, but…

“…!?”

By then, the giant had long since vanished as if he had never existed in the first place.