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'Thank you so much, Doctor. You saved Cuomo's life!'

'Make sure he stays in bed for two weeks. He needs proper rest to keep his illness from coming back. Keep an eye on him.'

'Of course! I will! How much do I pay you? How should I even pay you?'

'You don't have to pay.'

'That won't do! You're the first doctor who's come to this village in years!'

'You have nothing to feel bad about. I'm the one who should be ashamed of my comfortable situation, after seeing yours.'

'Then.. then we... we don't have any luxuries to offer, but at the very least... have a glass of water before you leave?'

'Merci.'

'What was that?'

'Sorry. I mean, 'thank you'.'

Any other documents to prove your identity?

Just these.

Then I can't let you enter Stonebreak Village. Your documents are insufficient.

No one asked me for any identification papers the last time I went there. Your predecessor even contacted a convoy to escort me.

He might have been passionate with his job, but I'm more responsible for my duty.

Fine. Mind telling me what documents I'm missing? I can go and fetch them.

Doctor, I'm sure you know what I mean by 'insufficient documents'.

All I know is that Stonebreak Village urgently needs me to deliver this medicine.

The way I see it, you're a stranger with a gun on your hip and a foreign accent. This Victorian village does not need a man like you to save them. You should be getting home.

I never claimed to be able to save the whole village. But I will try to save as many lives as I can.

Really? The 'lives' you wish to 'save' don't seem to think the same, Gaulish restorationist.

Gaulish... what?

Quit playing doctor, instigator. You can't fool me with that Gaulish accent of yours.

This is a misunderstanding.

If that's the case, then why not Sandbar Village or Titenay Village? Why Stonebreak Village, the only Gaulish resettlement under my jurisdiction?

Because Sandbar Village already has a retired doctor.

Titenay Village even has a hospital that's still functioning, and the other villages have regular caravans passing through providing medical services...

But the doctor in Stonebreak passed a few years ago, and there is no one to fill the vacancy. That, alongside caravans refusing to pass through the place, makes it the only village without access to medical care under your jurisdiction.

Could it be... that you're really a spy who's been collecting intelligence?

Quite the opposite. Your predecessor shared a breakdown of the available medical services in the area before connecting me with an escort.

I swear to you, I will do nothing in the village beyond the responsibilities of a physician.

Alright, that's enough hot air from you.

You know, there was a time we had a simple test to root out your kind. We just had you spit on a portrait of Corsica I. Anyone who hesitated would be suspect.

...Corsica I? Is that a Gaulish emperor?

Who else? Why the dumbfounded face?

(shrug) I thought Corsica would be his birthplace rather than his regnal name.

Finally here in Stonebreak... it's been a difficult journey.

Abel, how are you? Are your asthma attacks still as frequent as before? And what about Cuomo—

It's the doctor! He really did come back, just like he said!

It really is him...

It's the doctor! He's back!

Doctor, come over to my place!

What for? We need to throw a welcome party for him!

Let's get the medicine distributed first. The sooner I can get this to everyone, the sooner I can stop worrying.

I brought a newly developed long-lasting inhibitor you only use once a month. This is a six-month supply, so please keep it safe.

Merci...

Apple for you, doctor. Please. You told me not to work so hard the last time you were here, so I just wandered around the village picking fruits and the like.

Make sure you get enough nutrition too—

You haven't changed a bit. So afraid to disturb our lives last time, only to leave the village in a body out of shape. I saw it... yes, just take it.

Your medicine!

Merci.

Abel, why were you letting the others go ahead of you in the medicine queue?

I just have asthma, but the others are old or chronically ill, and there's the Infected too, so I should let them go first.

I have to thank you on their behalf. But didn't I talk to you about cutting down on smoking…

I've quit.

Good to hear. Here's the inhaler I mentioned before. Take it.

Merci.

De rien——

'Quit playing doctor, instigator. You can't fool me with that Gaulish accent of yours.'

No, you don't have to thank me.

You must be thirsty, doctor. I'll wash you an apple.

It's alright, I can do it myself—

No, please have a seat, I'll do it!

Abel, I heard the doctor's here. Where is he?

Around the corner. He's handing out medicine right now. Hale and hearty as you are, you should probably come back later.

Merci.

De rien.

Is that Gaulish too? What do you mean?

'No problem'. I learned it from the doctor just now.

De... rien...... Alright, I got it.

Your apple.

Abel... have you been teaching the French I taught you to the others?

'French'? Weren't you teaching me Gaulish?

It's been many years since we've spoken our mother tongue, so I passed on everything you taught me to the entire village. We're all grateful for the lessons... and we hope to learn even more from you.

'Merci.'

'What was that?'

'Sorry. I mean, 'thank you'.'

'Are you Gaulish?'

'Uh... I have a friend who has never been to Kazimierz, but she says that she would count as a Kazimierzian here. It's more or less the same with me.'

'So... you can speak Gaulish then?'

'Haha. If you could call me a Gaulishman, then I suppose my mother tongue counts as some sort of Gaulish.'

'Can you teach me a few phrases?'

Sorry to dash your hopes, but I've been teaching you French, not Gaulish.

Oh...? Well...

Sorry for not explaining the difference beforehand. If you do want to learn a new language, I think it should be your own.

I have to get going. I need to prepare for surgery.

Please wait! I'll help you!

How is it? Does your knee feel better?

Much better! I wouldn't dare imagine a day like this without you around... I know how you cured the others in even worse shape!

You're incredible. You're our savior...

...Savior?

Please don't get the wrong idea. I merely flushed out the excess fluid in your joints, but your arthritis is still quite severe, so you must avoid any hard work and cut down on your walks—

Yes, yes, I understand! Take good care of myself, and these old knees will improve too, yes! Thank you so much! Merci, merci! You are truly our savior!

I'll follow you to the end with these old legs of mine!

No, you've got the wrong idea! Please, wait—

Did that old lady leave something behind?

Abel, please go and tell her. At best, her knees will no longer deteriorate, but she shouldn't get her hopes up.

Forget that. She's in quite a sorry shape, actually. She's so old that she can't even have a proper meal without help.

Wasn't she picking apples around the village?

I'll let you in on something. Old man Victor over at the orchard took pity on her and left some damaged apples on the paths she always takes to make her happy.

...Does she know?

She's been more active outside the village ever since she picked those apples.

This won't do. Her arthritis will only worsen this way—

Then what do you suggest? Didn't you treat a bunch of people like her? Did all of them get the same advice to take less walks?

It doesn't matter if she can manage it for now, we have face reality at the very least.

But the reality is that we basically live in subhuman conditions out here.

The reason you refused to teach us more Gaulish was to protect us, right? That rest of the village might turn on us, everyone knows that...

It wasn't to protect—

Although, they don't even need to do anything to us in the first place.

My father's generation had no choice when they came here. All the fertile land was already owned by someone else, and the 'Gaulish settlers' could only build their village on top of rubble and debris.

The soil here is barren, and what we produce is only just enough to feed ourselves. That's why the trade caravans will never come through, and neither do the doctors.

A few years ago, there was even talk of a road to be built between the villages, and of course, ours would inevitably be the last to be connected. But when there were just two villages left, they stopped all roadwork, saying it was too dangerous to continue in the face of an incoming Catastrophe.

In the end, the Catastrophe never came, and the other village forked out their own money to finish the road to their village, but us...?

We're immediately put under suspicion even if the source of the trouble comes from some nomadic city. They say it's not because we're Gaulish, but it's to 'track down rogues' and 'strengthen security'...

We've been suffering all this time, until you came.

Me?

You're... here to take us away from this place, aren't you? It's not just about treatment.

Slow down, Abel. What are you getting at? When did I ever say anything like that?

The letter from your friend. It came from Leithanien.

I'm so sorry that I looked through your bag, but... we can't go on like this any longer.

Come to your senses, Abel! This letter is written in Eng—Victorian! I'm sure you can see this is just a message from a friend!

But didn't this Monsieur 'Blitz' mention the overwhelming amount of suffering across the lands? He was talking about you looking to find a way home?

I remember a rumor from my early years, of some 'Kurfürsten' treating Gaulish remnants favorably—

Abel! Look at me! What am I?

A... doctor?

Yes, a doctor. Nothing more.

I came here to alleviate your suffering to the best of my abilities, not to numb you to the reality of the situation. Come to your senses.

A deteriorated joint won't recover on a fantasy. I'm not a miracle worker. I can only do so much.

Taking us away from here is definitely something you could do! You managed to outsmart those officers, so you can certainly free us from this prison of stone and salt!

You're more than just a doctor! You're not the first doctor we've seen. Just what kind of doctor would heal so many people and refuse to take even a coin in return?

Come with me. I have something that'll certainly surprise you.

What's that...?

A portrait of His Majesty Corsica I. We found this in the depths of some deaf old man's warehouse.

It was defaced soon after His Majesty's demise. The old man couldn't recall his appearance, so we could only try our best to restore the painting...

It might not look like His Majesty, but everyone feels it's enough. He is the savior of the Gaulish after all...

Savior of the Gaulish?!

The face in the painting already made my jaw drop before I could even react to what that meant.

I can see the heavy damage inflicted on the face, and whoever did the restoration work could only fill in the gaps to the best of their imaginations, and the resulting face does strike a startling resemblance to a certain someone...

Myself.

The faded gold frame surrounds a Gustave Kateb in formal attire with a crown on his head and a sash draped over his chest.

If we were somewhere else, like on Earth, or Rhodes Island, or even Dossoles, this painting would be a comedic sight to behold.

But it just has to be lying right here.

I'm sorry, but I don't want to look at this any longer. You should lock it back up.

I'm no savior of the Gaulish.

Why come to Stonebreak, a place as destitute and desolate as ours, if not to save us?!

I help people tormented by illness, no matter what language they speak, or where they come from.

My next destination is not even Leithanien, but Kazdel. Because I hear the people over there also suffering.

The devils?! No... no way... you can't!

I also promised the Victorian official earlier that I would not do anything outside the scope of a doctor's work.

You said that just to get in here! That must be it!

On the contrary, I intend to keep my promise.

After our conversation, the portrait is locked away deep in the warehouse. I try to minimize any small talk with the villagers, but their eyes are still full of veneration, and it only grows more intense with each passing day.

I don't know who exactly they hold in high esteem—a doctor, or a 'savior of the Gaulish'.

I had no choice but to stuff my schedule with surgeries and consultations, hoping that being an idol unresponsive to any prayer would bring them back to reality.

As it turns out, I was dead wrong.

Abel?

Business at the village gates?

No, it's nothing.

In that case, take this medicine.

Didn't you already give me an inhaler?

I've been so busy the whole time I forgot about that Cuomo of yours. Here's his medicine. Don't forget to give it to him when he's back. He still needs to recuperate for a while more—

Abel...?

It wasn't even two whole days after you left the last time that they sent a dispatch here looking for rogues and it kept us up all night. They chased Cuomo out of bed on the pretense of a contraband check.

And then... Cuomo suffered another coughing fit. I begged them to help me take Cuomo into town, but they... wouldn't even answer me.

I went to another village that night looking for help, but we have no money, so no one was willing to come. In the end, we managed with much difficulty to convince that old doctor from Sandbar to come, but by then...

I quit smoking the next day.

Doctor, things are different this time, aren't they? You won't abandon us like the last time?

We all know that no one would be willing to so much as bat an eye towards us, except for another Gaulishman.

You've healed us all, so you'll save us all in the end, this I know, I know for sure...

Wait, Abel. What's that in your hand?

An announcement. Telling everyone to leave this village and head for Leithanien. Telling everyone you'll overcome all our obstacles, that you'll bring us to somewhere we can live in peace and joy...

Save me... Save us all...

*Cough*, *cough* *cough*... *Cough*!

An asthma attack?!

I've put the mask on, Abel. Take deep breaths.

(Gasping)

Deep breaths!

(Rough gasping)

Listen to me. Breathe in on one, and out on two! One... two! One... two!

One... two... one... two...

(Breathing gradually improves)

(Mumbling)

Don't speak—

Everyone's... here...

Listen, I no longer have any business here in Stonebreak Village. I should go.

We'll go with you, we need you to show us the way.

I'm a doctor, not a shepherd.

But I... my children... we're alive thanks to you.

I didn't save your lives for myself.

If the Victorians won't let us leave, if they harm even a single hair on your head, I'll fight them until I breathe my last.

If that's the case, then I wish I hadn't come here at all.

You saved us.

I only treated your sicknesses. I cannot save anyone.

You can.

After all... you're the savior of the Gaulish.

I don't know who put it in his hands, but Abel is once again holding the painting. The portrait of Gustave Kateb dressed like Corsica I.

Everyone gazes at me with the same look in their eyes. I've seen the same expression before, but back then, it wasn't directed towards me.

An expression full of anguish, reverence, brimming with hope... and delusions.

I smell the scent of blood yet to spill.

...Abel. Perfect timing, I have something I need of you before I leave.

Of course, everyone here is at your beck and call.

Take this.

A book?

All of your medical records are in here. I color-coded them according to the severity of your illnesses. I've included at the end of every record a note on how to treat your conditions, and the prescribed dosage of each medication.

You've already healed us, we don't need this anymore.

No.

My power has limits. There are only a number of ailments I can actually cure. Delusions alone cannot protect you; this illness will resurface soon.

That old lady has already begun suffering pain in her legs, right?

Right, take this, and... give me the portrait.

Give me the portrait.

...As you wish.

I scrutinize the portrait again.

If the Gustave Kateb here wasn't wearing the garb of Corsica I, then perhaps I would have brought it back to Rhodes Island as an amusing anecdote to share.

But no.

I'm a doctor. I know what it means, to give a patient an impractical fantasy.

I am already swallowing the bitter pill of my own unintended making.

I hold the portrait with one hand, and fish out my revolver with the other.

The crowd can clearly tell what I intend to do, but no one moves, like devotees awaiting a final judgement.

They stare at me dead in the face, the delusions in their eyes flickering like freshly ignited candlelight.

It burns out when the revolver goes off, and there is not even condemnation or loathing left, but only disillusionment.

I won't call this 'a good thing,' but snapping them out of their fantasies is better than spilling blood.

I turn the portrait so it faces me. I have to thank the Rhodes Island Engineering Department for their industrial keton. Apart from the face, the rest of the painting is practically unscathed.

Take it, Abel.

Take... what?

The portrait.

What... even for? What use is... a ruined portrait?

Give this portrait its rightful face, or at the very least, don't ever again paint a doctor's face over an emperor's.

If Corsica I's appearance has already been lost to time, then go find someone else who is truly able to save you, someone who can take you away from the stone and salt.

Perhaps he can speak real Gaulish, or maybe he can't. He might take you down a path of peace, or destruction.

Perhaps he is here in your crowd. Perhaps he's every one of you.

But he is not me.

A doctor will fight for his patient, but his patients are human, and not... some human construct.

Sorry.

Je suis navré.

Abel takes the portrait with confusion all over his face, as whispering is heard from the crowd.

I don't know if they understood my intentions, but I can definitely see that they haven't turned a deaf ear to my words.

The most arduous step has been taken, and they will begin to think, to reflect on themselves.

I hope their reflection won't come too late.

My good sir, I take back my previous insult, you are a true patriot—uh, no, a true pacifist.

You know what transpired then?

Of course! Gosh, the level of anxiety I was on yesterday! I thought you were really going to bring those Gaulishmen to Leithanien!

What would you do, had I really done so?

It would only prove how right we were to check for runaway rogues.

There's still some time before the convoy arrives. Fancy a cup of tea?

No need.

I have to say though, your final words to them were a little... dangerous. You should exercise more restraint in future.

Restraint? Let me ask you. Are there any heavy alcoholics in town?

Well... of course... and a few of them at that, but what does this have to do with that?

May I ask which of these two methods are more restrained to you, then: To hope that they turn around before they drink themselves to death, or to let them drown their sorrows in drink because they have no other option?

Sir... my previous words were spoken out of respect, so I hope you don't get the wrong idea.

Certainly. My words at Stonebreak Village came from my responsibility as a doctor. That includes what I've just said to you. The same applies here.

Then should I say to you 'I'll abide by the doctor's orders'?

I hope you will.

It's a shame that I feel no need to take a doctor's advice seriously.

Certainly. You're not the only one. I hope you don't end up needing a doctor's services.