by Ink Bamboo
Ignoring the last part of the lecherous statement, Michael turned back to look at the woman speaking to the crowd. He was far too used to his partner’s behavior to care anymore.
Passionate and energetic, Lady Faraz kept pushing her agenda. “Don’t be fooled, dear people. You can’t believe the rumors from the north! The rebels are not as charitable as they are made to seem. Those who refuse to join them are always cut down, just like these two men’s family and friends.”
“Do you think you will be any different?” she said, subtly compelling the people to take her side. Even if her manipulation had been clear as day, most people were too focused on her eyes and figure to care about it.
"What do you expect us to do?" complained someone from within the crowd. He was one of the very few still sitting on the fence. Hearing him, a few others nodded in agreement. It wasn't like they counted with the same resources as the nobles in order to fight off an armed group of rebels.
Lady Faraz smiled, taking the interruption as an opportunity to further her agenda. "I just want you to refrain from falling to their lies. They will whisper sweet promises into your ears, offering heaven and earth to get you to do their bidding. But they're all lies! I want you to remember that when the traitors hanging amongst us request your help."
Michael frowned as he listened to her arguments. Her voice was compelling, but her words lacked any kind of honesty behind them. To him, her intentions were crystal clear. If there was a threat, she wanted to use the people's emotions and fear of the unknown to take the brunt of the rebels’ attack. At the very least, he wanted to make them hesitate from going against the aristocracy of the kingdom.
He was familiar with the nobles’ line of thinking. They would rather have thousands of commoners sacrifice themselves on the front-lines than spend a few of their own soldiers and resources to face their enemies.
If only the church didn’t forbid us from meddling.
His face became grim as he pondered whether he should break his oath for this issue. After all, such a decision would have ramifications neither he nor his partner could shoulder on their own. The best course of action he could take right now was to send a carrier bird to the capital and let the Church's headquarters make the choice for them.
At that moment, however, a woman pushed herself out of the crowd. She cradled a child in her arms, her expression grave as tears flowed down her face. The face of her child looked no better than hers as black spots had covered most of it. Even the smell of death wafted from his body.
"They poisoned my son!" cried the woman. "Please, my lady, please help him. I found him like this next to the well."
Afraid of coming in contact with the boy, most of the crowd took a step back. They feared it could be contagious. The woman was left at the front with her child, facing Lady Faraz and the two fake villagers.
"It must be those rebels!" she cried. "My family has used that well for decades. It is not by chance that this happened to my son!"
Both priests turned to look at each other, pushing the crowd apart in order to examine the boy. The blonde merchant’s eyes widened as she recognized their robes.
Those are members of the Church of Life! she thought with happiness. The past few days had constantly given her a stream of pleasant surprises. Being present when the priests appeared would help her achieve her purpose.
If the priests determined the boy was poisoned, then her argument would gain instant credibility amongst the commoners. Because of that, she cruelly hoped for the boy's death. It would be the catalyst to drive the commoners to her side. Things like the mother's feelings and the son's fate were disposable, she only cared about her profits.
Michael caressed the boy's face with his smooth hands. His expression turned more solemn the longer he did so. It was clear the boy's condition had something that worried the man greatly. He eventually began chanting a small prayer, emitting a soft white light from his hands. With the use of his healing spell, he had been able to dispel a few of the child's black spots. Alas, not all of them had disappeared.
Seeing it had been partially ineffective, Lucille repeated the chant, casting another heal of his own until the boy's face cleared up.
Both men stood up, giving the rejoicing mother some space to hug her child. They glanced at each other again before the black haired priest mustered the courage to speak.
"Villagers of Sol, as you might have noticed, we are priests from the order of Life. This boy we just treated was afflicted by a malicious poison. For the time being, we can only advise you to avoid the well this boy visited for the time being. We will immediately investigate this. Please request the help of the church if you see anyone with similar symptoms."
Having said that, the priests turned to look at the blonde merchant, motioning for her to move closer. "We need you to tell us just what is going on in this city in detail, my lady. Meet us at the Church of Harvest."
After the woman agreed to their proposition, both priests left her to her own devices.
On the other hand, Lady Faraz wasn’t going to let this heaven-sent opportunity go to waste. She started going on about her cause, further scaring the crowd about the dangers of allying themselves with the rebels.
As she continued with her charade, both priests discussed the issue at hand. They were currently walking to the church of Harvest but the issue was far too important to leave for later.
"Did you sense the same thing I did from the boy?" asked Michael to his partner. His expression was now considerably grim. It spoke of volumes of how much importance he placed over this issue.
The normally aloof white-haired priest nodded solemnly. "That was the scent of death. That vile poison is something only their kind uses. Do you really think the rebels have allied themselves with that cursed church?"
"I don't know. If they have, our church will have no option but to intervene in the kingdom's war. Our goddess' commands may tell us not to involve ourselves in the conflicts of mortals, but it becomes another issue altogether when those evil foes become involved."
Both men remained solemn as they made their way to the church. Their steps were as heavy as the concerns that had been laid upon their shoulders. Just what would they have to face in the future?
Chapter 24
Tainted Alchemy.
“Please, help my husband!”
“Don’t let my child die, please! I beg of you, please!”
A crowd of people blocked the entrance to the Church of Harvest endlessly begging for their help. What had started as an orderly line of people waiting their turn, had quickly dissolved into chaos. Faced with the threat of death, very few were able to remain composed.
Eventually, the mob of people started storming their way inside the church, demanding treatment for them and their loved ones. They feared delaying their chance at salvation for any longer. Too many had died already.
The reason behind the mob's behavior was simple, however. A deadly poison had spread further than anyone could have expected. After the crying mother had showed up with her son at the plaza, many more cases started arising around the town of Sol.
The first cluster of cases appeared close to where the boy was found. Right in the middle of the northern district inhabited by the commoners. Alas, it wasn’t an isolated matter. It soon became common amongst the other districts as well.
Normally, a case of poisoned water would have been dealt with by pouring large amounts of holy water into the contaminated source. However, this case was different and considerably harder to deal with. The Church of Harvest didn’t have nearly enough holy water available to purify the threat of a poison made by disciples from the Church of Death.
On the church’s ground, a white-haired priest could be seen taking a break. He was Lucille, one of the two priests sent by the church of life. His chest was covered in sweat and his robes rose and fell with the rhythm of his agitated breathing. He was completely exhausted. It had been hours since he had last been able to take a break.
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As much as he would have liked to return to the job, he needed some rest before he could continue to cast spells and blessings. Never would he have expected the situation would deteriorate into its current state.
As he recovered his strength, the priest couldn't help but recall what led to this moment.
After arriving at the church, he and his partner had reported in with the priest in charge. To their surprise, the head of the church was a rank two priest, just like them. They had heard of the deterioration experienced by the peripheral churches, but they had never expected it to reach such an extent.
Glossing over the obligatory formalities, they urged the church to prepare some holy water to treat cases like the one they had encountered. Their reasoning was simple: events involving the Church of Death never ended with one of two victims. Many preparations were to be made in case more cases started appearing.
Treatment with special resources like this would normally cost a lot of money to those who sought it from the church. However, since the situation was related to the Church of Death, it would have gone against the churches’ creed to charge for it. In cases like this, they had to prioritize interfering with whatever plans the apostles of death were orchestrating.
After blessing a couple barrels of holy water in preparation, he and his partner, along with a group of apprentices from the local church, had embarked on a trip to examine the water source from where the first case had originated. But to their surprise and horror, once they reached the northern side of town, they met dozens of people displaying similar symptoms to the boy they had seen at the plaza. Black spots covered their pale faces as the lingering scent of death stuck to their bodies.
Immediately, they proceeded to try to save as many of them as they could.
Seeing the apprentices from the Church of Harvest frozen in fear, Michael couldn’t help but start yelling orders at them, “You, newbie, don’t just stand there! Treat them with holy water!” Those unable to cast healing spells had to make themselves useful in some way.
Alas, the priests soon realized they didn’t have enough holy water to treat so many people.
"What should we do?" asked Lucille. During this crisis, his easy-going behavior was nowhere to be found.
"You should go back to the church and support them from there. I'll examine the well in this side of town first, and then I’ll go check those from the other districts. I'll release a signal into the sky if I need any assistance," answered the black haired priest.
It took some effort to convince the fear-driven people to follow Lucille. Those who resisted were quickly subdued under the duo's forceful insistence. They couldn't afford the luxury of leaving people to their fate. Even those who had no salvation should be treated before dying to a poison tainted by the essence of death. The consequences of not doing so were grave. Incompetence could give rise to a legion of undead.
Once the group led by his partner left the vicinity, Michael made his way to the nearest well. He lowered the bucket next to it and took a sample of the water within. In the beginning, he tried blessing its contents in order to confirm his hypothesis. Unfortunately, he turned out to be right. The white glow that should have occurred from his blessing didn't take place. On the contrary, a black miasma rejected the energy from his blessing.
“Indeed, the contents of the well has been tampered with.”
However, despite his earlier conjecture, there were no signs of human meddling on the exterior of the well.
“I doubt anyone had enough time to pour the poison in the middle of the day,” he said, talking to himself. “Judging from how many people were affected, this well is rarely left alone. With no doubt, the townsfolk would have noticed anything strange.”
Just how did the poison make its way inside then? Michael wondered. There seemed to be no reasonable explanation for it unless someone from the town itself had poured the poison inside the well. However, his instincts told him that was far from being the correct answer.
*Crack*
Michael suddenly took a defensive stance. For a moment, his instincts had alerted him he was being watched by someone with unkindly intentions. Decisively, he turned his head around, trying to find whoever was hidden in the shadows.
However, all he could see in his surroundings were a couple of birds and vermin common to the town. He was all by himself. Aside from the dead townsfolk lying around, there was no one else in his vicinity.
Am I being too paranoid?
Alas, Michael was too inexperienced to find his perpetrator. Without his knowledge, he had earned the lifeless stare of a crow perched upon a tree branch. Its pitch-black feathers were stained by a series of red inscriptions, but the creature seemed to be uncaring about them. It just stood motionless, carefully tracking every move the priest made.
The bird continued staring for a while as if it was imprinting the Michael’s appearance into its eyes. Only after the priest left the well alone did it disappear, flying off into the night’s embrace. From then on, its destination would only known by the creature and its master.
After achieving no results in the northern district, Michael made his way towards the western side of town. The next thing on his to-do list was to check the state of the nobles’ district. He originally intended to go to the southern district, but unfortunately, he was now on his own. He no longer held the amount of manpower required to deal with that side of town.
If that was the case, there would be nothing he could do with what little resources he had at the moment. As such, he decided to go towards the eastern district first, where the nobles would probably provide him with assistance.
However, just as he entered the vicinity of aristocrats’ territory, he saw something unexpected. A group of guards were holding back a well-dressed man making a ruckus. Despite his pale complexion, the willowy elder spared no effort to get away from their hands. The energy behind his frantic movements couldn’t be underestimated.
"My lord, please, let's visit the church first. Madam needs the treatment," pleaded one of the guards.
"Yes, my lord. Please have some hope, this tribulation shall pass," added another one.
After coming closer, Michael managed to recognize the man the guards were holding. He was a wealthy merchant in charge of a series of businesses across the town. In fact, the insignia sewn onto his clothes was exactly the same as the one hung on the entrance of the tea shop he had visited earlier that day.
Still, the noble in question wasn’t having any of it. "I tell you, it must be that accursed boy! Ever since his arrival in town, everything has been turned upside down. I'll murder him myself! If anything happens to my wife, not even a god will be able to shelter him from my wrath."
It was clear that he was infuriated about something. That being said, the old merchant lacked sufficient strength to escape the hold of his servants. His futile attempts did nothing but make a joke out of himself.
As Michael approached their group, he decided to pretend he hadn’t heard the elder’s words of blasphemy against the gods.
"Greetings," he said. "I'm a priest sent by the Church of Life, currently staying over at the Church of Harvest. I wonder whether I could have a word with you regarding an important issue."
The noble's eyes lightened once the cleric presented introduced himself as a member of the Church of Life. Even a novice apprentice from their temple had a standing higher than his. He quickly regained his composure and ordered his guards back.
"Enlightened priest, forgive me for my rudeness, but before you continue any further, I have a request to make of you. My wife has been afflicted by some strange sickness, black marks have spawned across her body. Could you please check her health?"
Michael’s eyes wavered upon hearing the noble's request. I'm too late. It has affected this side of town already, he said to himself. I still need his help though. Guess I have no choice but to give him this.
Carefully, Michael took a small vial from the inside of his robes before p
assing it to the noble. It was a flask of holy water he had saved for himself, in case of emergency. At this time, he was willing to offer it to the elder in order to fulfill his goal.
“This is holy water blessed by our high priest at the capital. Give it to your wife, it should improve her condition until you make your way to the church," he instructed. "I do, however, request a small favor from you in exchange.”
“Anything,” answered the old man, carefully taking the vial from Michael’s hands. He was willing to offer his own wealth as long as he could save his wife.
“Please have your guards assist me in warning the rest of town to avoid drinking water from the wells. It seems that they might have been poisoned. Also, if you happen to know of anyone else sharing your wife's symptoms, please send them towards the church.”
“Of course my lord, as you order,” replied the old merchant, turning to look at his guards. “You hear that you useless idiots? Go!”
“Very well,” said Michael, uncomfortably scratching the back of his neck. “Thank you for your help. I must leave now, however, time is of the essence.”
“Of course, my lord, may the blessing of life be with you.”
Michael prepared to leave when he suddenly remembered something.
"By the way, I couldn't help but hear you were blaming someone just a moment ago. May I confirm if that boy you were talking about was the same as the one who caused a revolt yesterday?"
“Indeed, that's the one,” answered the old man, the fire of hatred kindling in his gaze. “Ever since he popped up in our town, there has been one calamity after another. Not one person is safe from him!"
It was clear from the merchant’s tone of voice that his opinion of Zaros was one he reserved to the worst of criminals. Only after calming himself down did he continue, "I'm sure he's the one behind this damned sickness."
