Bishop's Proposal

"So, Bishop Lindy," Dalia said. "When Jorgen informed me of your intention to take over the entire institution, I was genuinely grateful."

"I foresaw it in Mr. Jorgen's eyes. It's my honor," Lindy replied, removing and wiping his glasses before putting them back on.

"Of course, I hope you've thoroughly understood the situation of this institution and considered it carefully before deciding. Before I provide you with all the details, although it might be impolite, I'd like to ask why you have this plan."

"The reasons are multifaceted. The crucial point is that your institution's procedures are concise and flexible, better than similar organizations under the Redemption Light Hospital. For instance, in adopting orphans, we conduct elaborate investigations and tests on candidates' parents, mainly focusing on faith. Essentially, applicants without faith are relegated to the end of the long queue, regardless of the time they submitted their application, a principle of church institutions. On the other hand, applicants proving devout faith, regardless of their actual family conditions or characters, often get quick approval. Your institution, however, primarily considers whether candidates have a stable home and consistent income, which is crucial for a child's upbringing. Reforming the welfare system within church organizations is currently unlikely, so the better approach is to directly absorb outstanding civilian institutions."

"I've seen the forms candidates' parents fill out for the church," Dalia said. "Over two hundred questions, mostly about the doctrines of the Holy Light."

"That's precisely what I mean," Lindy said.

"From your position as a bishop, you should support this system, right?" Jorgen remarked.

"Jorgen," Dalia interjected.

"It's a fair question, no need to evade it. For example, Nehari and I have equal standing in the Cathedral, but we have almost nothing in common. He's a bishop and a paladin, while I'm both a bishop and the hospital's director. Many in the church might object to his way of smashing enemies' heads, and others might object to my thoughts of reforming the welfare system. You should understand far better than I that a person's actions are influenced by countless factors."

"That's also a form of evasion, but I understand what you mean," Jorgen said.

"Now, this system is essentially established under the influence of the Archbishop alone. Perhaps you know that he adopted the daughter of a paladin couple. Although this happened when the Archbishop was still an ordinary priest, it now symbolizes a criterion: adopting orphans should inherently be an act of entrusting life to the faith of the Holy Light. Let me tell you an unpleasant story: a man with a seven-year prison record, using bribes, got a recommendation from a priest in his diocese. They vehemently swore that he was one of the most devout believers they had ever seen. In this way, he adopted seven children, and within three years, two of them died in his illegal underground workshop. He insisted it was an 'accident,' and the lawsuit is still ongoing. The crucial point is that if he's found guilty, the responsibility of those who recommended him, sixty percent of the priests in the entire diocese, will be pursued. Perhaps it was when I had to detach myself from this situation that I began to notice your institution."

"I haven't heard... of such an incident," Dalia said.

"See, I'm telling you now, and there's nothing embarrassing about it. Your meticulous and prolonged follow-up in examining the lives and education of adopted orphans is the most outstanding part of your work. However, in the current situation, this advantage has become a burden—it requires a considerable amount of funding."

"So, is the church willing to provide this additional funding, or will it still rely on donations?"

"This is where the advantage of church institutions comes in: we have a large number of volunteers who can take care of these long-term follow-up tasks. Forgive me for being straightforward; your institution is very fragile when funds don't flow smoothly. The church, on the other hand, is different. Faith itself provides a compelling and cohesive force higher than money."

"Your view on faith is quite pragmatic," Jorgen remarked.

Lindy smiled. "I was born into a devoutly religious family. When I first broke my leg as a child, my mother told me that as long as I prayed devoutly every day, my leg would surely heal. I followed her advice, even becoming the youngest volunteer at the nearby church. Then, one day, while hurrying to the church, I broke my leg again. I asked my mother why, why despite doing everything the Holy Light required of me, I still encountered such misfortune. She said it was a test from the Holy Light—those with deeper faith are more likely to face trials incomprehensible to ordinary people. This is the real opportunity for me to prove myself to the Holy Light."

"What do you think then?" Dalia asked.

"Don't misunderstand; I believe she was right. I still feel that way today—but only the latter half of that statement. Everyone is susceptible to unimaginable disasters, whether they have faith or not. I don't enjoy this disability, but I accept it as an inseparable part of my life. The Holy Light is similar; most of the time, I am grateful for my faith, and only occasionally do I find it vexing. Of course, medicine is as well."

Later, Dalia brought some information about the institution and discussed details with Lindy. Jorgen barely participated, just watching them quietly. Seeing Dalia engrossed in a field he didn't understand, Jorgen felt relieved but also somewhat worried. If the transition of the institution goes smoothly, she will have to bid farewell to a part of her life familiar to him—unlike Section Seven, this was a part of her life that had given her strength and courage, accompanying her in resisting loneliness for many years.

Over two hours later, the discussion was coming to an end. Lindy decided to take away some key data for further research.

"One more thing," Lindy said. "We've been skirting around this issue. It concerns both of your lives."

"Please go on," Jorgen said after glancing at Dalia and then turning to Lindy.

"If I successfully take over your institution, Mrs. Daliah—then you don't necessarily have to remain completely aloof."

"What do you mean?" Dalia asked.

"You can continue as a member of the Redemption Light Hospital, overseeing the operation after the transition of the institution. Of course, as a job, not an obligation."

Neither of them had anticipated Lindy suggesting this, and Dalia was particularly surprised. It meant she wouldn't have to bid farewell to her beloved career. However, she didn't respond immediately, just slightly opened her mouth, unconsciously looking at Jorgen.

"So... will the office still be in Stormwind?" Jorgen asked.

"Yes."

"Then Dalia probably won't accept. We plan to move somewhere else."

Jorgen held her hand; she smiled at him.

"Oh," Lindy squinted knowingly. "I understand. It's been a pleasant conversation, and I should be going. Thanks again for the sumptuous dinner."

"I'll call you a carriage," Jorgen said.

"No need, I'm conveniently heading to visit a doctor friend nearby."

After seeing Lindy off at the door, Dalia said to Jorgen, "I was nervous before. Who would have thought he would completely change when it came to business."

"Regardless, he is a bishop."

"I feel much more at ease now."

Dalia sighed.

"Are you okay?" Jorgen asked.

"I'm fine. Why do you ask?"

"Because of the last question Lindy raised. I hope I didn't make a decision for you without your consent."

"No, that's not the case. It was decided beforehand that I should leave here as soon as possible. Wasn't that why we met Lindy?"

"Yes. But the decision still lies with you. If you intend to—"

"Let's not talk about this for now." She lightly tugged at his collar. "Let's go upstairs."

"I forgot to tell you; I still have work today, Dalia."

"Oh." She nodded. "Alright."

"At midnight, there's an operation—"

"I don't need to know about this, right?" She interrupted him, releasing her grip.

"Right. You go rest in your room; I need to leave now. Good night, Dalia."

"Good night."

Suddenly, Lindy felt a bit nauseous, stopping by the road, leaning against the wall. He had eaten too much today.

Two beggars approached him, extending their hands, saying, "Father, spare some change?"

The stench from the beggars made Lindy even more uncomfortable. He covered his mouth and said, "I don't have any. Go away."

"You must have something, Father. Please be kind."

Lindy indeed had no money, but he couldn't explain that to the beggars. Not only did they not leave, but their gaze also fell on the gold Holy Light emblem on his chest. Lindy felt a bit threatened; after all, his height only reached the chests of the two beggars. "Move, move," he raised his voice, deliberately showing an annoyed expression, and used his right hand to push one of the beggars in front, making him step aside. Then Lindy walked away quickly. He could feel the beggars staring at his back, but they didn't catch up.

After walking a short distance, he heard hurried footsteps behind him. He didn't turn around but increased his pace. In just a few seconds, he realized the footsteps couldn't belong to those two beggars. He turned around and saw Dalia walking towards him.

"Mrs. Dalia?" he said. "Why are you out alone so late? Where's Mr. Jorgen?"

"Lindy, I want to talk to you," she said, standing in front of him, with sweat under her ears.