Chapter Nine: Illness
“Old rivals?!” Lando asked in confusion.
“Yes. I hadn’t planned to tell you this early. After all, I’m still not certain you possess the talents we require. But the situation is urgent now, so I’ll give you a brief explanation.”
“For certain reasons, I am unable to leave this place, but I’ve sensed the presence of my old adversaries. If we do not stop them, there is a high chance they will destroy this world. So, young man, the task of saving the world now falls to—”
“Wait, wait! Mr. Carter, please don’t joke with me like this,” Lando interrupted, utterly incredulous.
“Heh. They come from a death cult, worshipping a god who holds dominion over death, and have long taken pleasure in destruction, believing it pleases their deity.”
“As for me, as I said, certain circumstances keep me here. It was only recently that I noticed the virus they’ve unleashed is spreading. If nothing is done to stop it, once it erupts in full force, the entire Northern Territory could soon be left devoid of all life.”
Carter’s words were shocking, but what Lando found most bewildering was that such a backward world would even have the concept of a virus?!
“Their incursion is also a wound upon the world itself. To counter the world’s natural resistance, they set up powerful magical arrays to shield and suppress the world’s consciousness. Your task is to destroy these arrays. Once the world’s awareness is freed, the deathly virus will be suppressed and won’t be nearly as terrifying.”
Penetrate enemy lines? Destroy their rituals? Who came up with this third-rate storyline—could it get any more far-fetched?!
“Mr. Carter, I am but a mere knight. Why not tell Baron Moria or the other Northern nobles? Surely they would have the means to help you.”
“I would if I thought it possible. But do you think they’d believe the words of a stranger who appeared out of nowhere?” Carter snorted dismissively.
“…Wait, aren’t you the scholar Baron Moria hired?” Lando blurted out, his expression darkening. He immediately regretted it, his eyes darting nervously toward the study’s door.
“Enough, boy. Whether you go or not is your own choice.” Carter placed two objects on the table. “These are yours. One is a detection device—follow it and you’ll find the ritual’s core. The other is… an alchemical golem. If you encounter an enemy you cannot defeat, throw this, and it should buy you some time.”
Faced with these ‘quest items,’ Lando didn’t hesitate and took them at once. As for whether he’d go, he’d decide when the time came.
Watching Lando hurry away, Carter chuckled softly. “Those death cult bones are well hidden this time. If not for the world-suppressing array making things easier for me, I might not have noticed. Well, little one, whether your world is saved depends on what you’re capable of. Good luck! Let’s see what you choose.”
“Hmm, just in case, I’d better send a warning their way.”
……
The Northern nobles responded with remarkable speed. After a brief assembly in Snowfield City, they quickly divided up their tasks and moved to the front lines. The influx of so many knights helped hold back the rampaging barbarians.
Looking at his own class—Grand Knight (1%)—Lando could only smile wryly. A few days ago, because of the war and having already reached Knight (95%), he decided, for safety’s sake, to splurge and directly use his soul essence to level up. After spending the essence to reach Knight (100%), his life energy did increase significantly, but contrary to his expectations, he didn’t become a Grand Knight immediately. He then realized the system could only increase the energy required for a class, not help him break through to the next rank automatically.
Luckily, his natural talent saw him through, and by his own efforts, he finally advanced to Grand Knight—gaining at least some power to protect himself.
“Sigh, in the end, a man must rely on himself.”
During this period, Lando had also considered Carter’s words. His first thought was to report to the baron, but, just as Carter said, without evidence, his baseless claim would be dismissed out of hand.
Moreover, the war was progressing well, so there seemed to be no need to report such matters.
Lando believed Carter, but the thought of infiltrating enemy territory alone still gave him pause.
Just as Lando was hesitating, news from the rear made up his mind.
“A large-scale outbreak of fever and chills in the territory, with masses of commoners falling unconscious?! The mortality rate is staggering?!!”
“Damn it, this must be some barbarian conspiracy! We should have wiped them out long ago!”
“Is there no cure? Even white-root grass is useless?”
“This is no ordinary fever. The healers are powerless.”
“My lord, let us attack! The barbarians must have the antidote.”
……
Watching the knights fume with righteous indignation, Lando understood—the upheaval in the rear had thoroughly enraged everyone. In the vast, sparsely populated North, the people are a noble’s most precious resource; the barbarians’ actions were nothing less than a knife to the throats of the ruling class. The coming battles would be even bloodier.
Seizing an opportunity, Lando reported everything privately to Baron Moria. After hearing him out, the baron shook his head. “I believe you, but I could never convince the other nobles of such a thing, nor could I send my own men alone on such a dangerous mission. For now, forget about it—pretend it never happened.”
“Don’t worry, we’re not unprepared. Before the war even began, we suspected things were amiss. At the suggestion of Count Sigmund Torres, all the Northern nobles jointly petitioned the kingdom for aid. The kingdom will send support. As for this Mr. Carter, I’ll pay him a visit after this incident.”
……
It wasn’t the answer Lando had hoped for, but it was enough to set his mind at ease—at least his side didn’t consist of arrogant fools.
……
The final battle arrived sooner than Lando had anticipated. The Northern nobles, led by Count Sigmund Torres, were eager to end things, and the barbarians showed no desire to delay either.
On the battlefield, the noble side was led by Count Sigmund Torres, while the barbarians were represented by three flamboyantly dressed high priests and a cloaked figure.
“The plague in the North is your doing, isn’t it? Hand over the antidote, and I promise to leave your people a spark of hope. Refuse, and your tribe will face complete annihilation,” Sigmund Torres declared with tyrannical authority.
“Save your breath. Our purpose is to defeat you and reclaim the land that rightfully belongs to our people,” said Snow Tiger, then turned to the cloaked man. “Begin. I hope it’s as you promised.”
“Heh, don’t worry. As long as you serve my lord, this world will be your reward!”
As his words fell, wisps of black mist began to emanate from him. The clear sky was suddenly shrouded in dark clouds, as an ominous aura spread madly.