Jirukoma and Komain opened their mouths at practically the same time.
“Can you really offer us something so wonderful?!” Jirukoma burst out.
“What you’re offering us is horrible!” Komain screamed.
Jirukoma and Komain turned to look at one another. The two of them seemed more surprised than anyone that, although they had spoken at the same time, their opinions were total opposites.
“Wh-What are you saying, Brother?! It’s the same as if he were saying, ‘Here’s some tasty bait, now wag your tails for me’!”
“Komain,” said Jirukoma. “His Majesty is offering us a foundation to support our lifestyles. Without the need to cultivate the land ourselves like in the Gran Chaos Empire.”
“Even so, how can he demand we give up on going home?! Doesn’t it frustrate you?!”
“If we can set aside that frustration, he’s saying he’ll keep us from starving or freezing. Don’t you understand how important that is for refugees?”
The siblings had two completely opposite views of my offer…That was probably just the way it was.
“It’s little surprise that the two of you don’t agree,” I said. “I myself think that this proposal could be considered very sweet or very cruel. There’s no guarantee that two people looking at the same thing will necessarily come to the same opinion. Whether someone will think it is kind or unkind will depend on how that person looks at and feels about things.”
They were both silent.
I took a deep breath, then put my hand down on the map. “This is the best that I can do for you now. Now, all I can do is hope you’ll take the hand I’ve extended you. From here, it’s up to you to decide.”
When I said that, Jirukoma groaned in distress. “There are those in this village who will remain intent on returning home.”
“You mean… like your little sister?” I asked.
“No! Komain is flexible! She only objected earlier to represent the people living in this village who cannot give up on their feeling for their homelands!”
“B-Brother…”
“I am sure that is true,” said Jirukoma. “The reason you said it was horrible was out of consideration for the ones who you know feel that way. Because you… are a girl who understands the pain of others.”
“Urgh…” Komain fell silent. Had he hit the nail on the head?
Jirukoma sat up straight and bowed his head low. “We are deeply grateful for your kindness, sire. This is not something I can decide on my own, so I would like to gather others from the village to discuss it.”
“I believe I told you I came here to push you to make a decision, did I not?” I asked.
“I know. However, I want to persuade as many as possible to take the hand you’ve kindly extended, sire. Even if… that should mean splitting up the refugees.”
I was silent.
Splitting up the refugees. In other words, any of those who couldn’t accept it would have to be chased out.
Was this the best I could do for now? If I rushed them too much, no good would come of it.
“But there isn’t much time,” I said. “Even if I can push back the search for residents, I can’t push back the changing of the season, you know. Winter has already started.”
A season with a lack of preparation would mean freezing to death. Children and the elderly, the ones with the least ability to resist, would be the first to die. If possible, I wanted them to make their decision at a point where they could be fully moved in before it got too deep into winter.
Jirukoma bowed his head deeply once again. “Yes, sir! I am well aware.”
“Well, that’s fine, then.”
The rest was up to them. No matter what their decision, I would have to take the appropriate response to it.
If possible, I didn’t want to have to show my cold-hearted side…
It happened just when it was starting to feel like talks were done for today.
That was when a man in a white coat rudely barged into the tent.
He was a human male with sharp eyes who looked to be in his mid-to-late-twenties. What was distinctive about him was his unkempt hair that, despite his seemingly young age, was stark white all the way to the root.
“I heard Hilde was here,” the man said sharply.
Carla and Owen warily reached for their sword hilts.
The man paid them no heed. When he spotted Hilde, he brusquely walked over to her.
Hilde rose, glaring straight into the man’s face. “Brad! How dare you push off teaching lectures onto me!”
This white haired man’s name was Brad Joker. Together with Hilde, he was the other doctor who was supporting this country’s medical revolution.
Brad paid no mind to Hilde’s complaints, suddenly grabbing her by the arm.
“Wait, what are you doing?!” Hilde shouted. “That’s not how you treat a woman properly.”
“If you want to complain, I’ll hear it later,” he snapped. “Sorry… But I need you to lend me a hand.”
Maybe she sensed something from the earnestness in Brad’s eyes, because Hilde now had a serious look on her face. “Did something happen?”
Brad released the arm he was holding, then nodded quietly. “Yeah. We have an emergency case.”
Brad Joker was the Traitor Doctor.
On a continent where almost everyone in the medical profession was a practitioner of light magic (recovery magic which worked by activating the systems of the body), he was this country’s sole surgeon. He attempted to treat serious illnesses without relying on magic, using only medical examinations and surgery.
“Even without clinging to the gods, people can heal one another with their own power.” That was Brad’s personal view.
On this continent, people had a tendency to see light magic as “the blessing of the gods,” especially in Lunarian Orthodoxy, where it was seen as sacred. That made it a pretty dangerous opinion to hold.
Brad had wandered across many battlefields in many different countries. He would take custody of the remains of unknown soldiers who died in combat, dissecting their bodies to study the structures of the different races’ bodies. He developed his own independent field of surgical treatment which used anesthesia and operations.
He had also approached the knowledge of the three-eyed race without prejudice and absorbed it. He knew a lot about the existence of microorganisms and the effects of antibiotics, and he applied those techniques to his work.
His skills were such that it would be fair to call them godly. (Though, for the god-hating Brad, it would come across as sarcastic.) The biggest factor in this was that he had been able to cure malignant tumors, which had been untreatable using light magic, by removing them with surgery.
“Light is not the only thing that can cure people. The dark can comfort, too.”
It sounded like he had a case of middle school syndrome when he said it like that, but I could sympathize. I’d requested his assistance, but it hadn’t been easy to convince him.
By which I mean…
“I sought this power (surgery) so that I could save the poor who couldn’t afford treatment and the people in remote areas where there are no light mages. I have no interest in money, power, or the like.”
…was what he had said to me.
Now, as for how I got him to cooperate, I hooked… erm, negotiated with him… using not money, or power, but things.
To be precise, in order to make it so everyone in the kingdom had easy access to medical care, I created a national system of health insurance like the one in my world and promised to have the finest blacksmith in the country forge a scalpel, suturing needles, and a full set of medical equipment for him. Then, by arranging a system where he would be a collaborator, not a vassal, he finally agreed to cooperate.