CHAPTER 199: CHAPTER 195: THE PLAGUE MAKER (1)

Alarms blared throughout the city. The people who thought the boy’s illness was a miracle, none of them survived to tell the tale. The entire market was turned into a graveyard within moments.

Those who did survive were killed by the paladins, who were covered in strange armor from head to toe. It was the first time the commoners had seen Blight-Division Paladins in action.

They were strange masks on their faces, which were then covered with steel plates. It was a special armor to prevent the spread of diseases through the air.

The reason no one had seen them before was because they were only deployed to kill absolutely everyone in sight.

While the Paladins ’cleansed’ the streets, the priests within the temple were panicking.

Head Priest Elion rushed through the marble hallway of the Grand Temple. It was the temples of the Shilia’s primary faith, Solmere and Dimere, the twin sun gods.

Since it was an agricultural town, it was natural for them to praise the sun gods as they were the ones responsible for a bountiful produce all year round.

Yet there was a hint of pride on Elion’s face, only the fear of the inevitable remained.

Priests rarely ran, as they were supposed to be the calm souls filled with faith and reason. For them, running meant panic, it meant the loss of control.

But they no longer cared about such perceptions.

After covering his mouth and nose, he pushed open the doors only to see the junior priests engaged in loud arguments. They circled around the gods’ altar, knowing even the gods couldn’t protect them anymore.

"Head priest Elion!" one of the priests shouted. "Reports from the market—"

"It must be a curse!" another yelled, clutching his head. It was clear that the priest had lost his mind already.

"No, it’s punishment!" an elder priest said through gritted teeth. "Someone must have offended the gods!"

Elion didn’t say a word. Unlike those low-ranking priests, he was aware of the prophecy and knew none of them were right in their assumptions.

Elion held up his hand. Someone had to show strength in their faith, even though he couldn’t even control his hand, let alone his city.

"Silence!" he yelled over the panicked ground.

They hushed, though terror was still evident in their eyes. Elion calmly turned towards the nearest priest.

"What do the healers say?" Elion asked.

"They tried holy blessings. Prayers. Purification chants..." the priest said, swallowing his saliva. "Nothing worked... Anyone who came into contact with the sick still died."

Elion had feared as much, hearing it truly shocked him. While the prophecy claimed an unstoppable plague would destroy them, he didn’t believe the gods would be so cruel.

Faith healed everything. That was what they were taught in the monasteries from a young age. The gods judged and punished, but they also protected their beloved creations.

This plague... the gods couldn’t let such a cruel thing run rampant in their midst of their loyal subjects.

Elion stepped onto the balcony that overlooked the city. A large section of the city was burning, set ablaze by the paladins. After all, nothing escaped the holy fire of Solmere and Dimere.

The plague would die once the flames did.

At least that’s what everyone hoped for. But further away, the situation was shrouded in chaos.

The dead lay in heaps. Their blood had turned the roads into a muddy red mess.

The regular city guards stumbled back in fear and refused to touch the dying in fear of meeting the same end as those they had put down like rabid dogs.

"Mercy... Show us mercy, O great Solmere, Dimere... please... please..."

Around the temple, the citizens had gathered and began sobbing and praying loudly. They were told illness would lead to salvation, but in reality, they were shoved into hell.

It was about time their faith shattered, and everything else did along with it. But it wasn’t the people who were questioning their faith.

"Solmere... why do you allow this?" Elion spoke through gritted teeth as his hands tightened around the railing.

He expected answers, but only received screams.

His heart hammered in his chest. What if the gods weren’t silent... but powerless? Wasn’t that what the prophecy stated?

While he was lost in his thoughts, a priest rushed up behind him.

"Father... could this be a plague?"

Other priests were confused with the young priest’s words. However, Elion was infuriated.

Plague... it was the word used in the prophecy. As such, only the higher-ups were aware of the meaning of the word. A young cleric couldn’t possibly know that word even existed.

"HOW DARE YOU USE THAT WORD!" Elion roared and grabbed the young priest by his throat.

The young boy was so scared that he soiled himself when Elion roared in rage.

"I-I shamelessly read... through s-some of your l-letters while c-cleaning your quarters!"

The boy stammered. In his eyes, it was a forgivable mistake. However, Elion didn’t think so, and without any hesitation, he shoved the young man over the railing.

As he fell, the guards jumped up in shock and looked up only to meet Elion’s gaze. He nodded at them, and the guards killed the boy without a second thought, branding him as a heretic.

Not only did the death hit those gathered around the temple, but it also scared them into not doubting their beliefs, as the same might happen to them.

The message was clear. If they didn’t hold to their belief, the temple would call them heretics and kill them. But if they did believe in the sun gods, the illness might swallow them up.

Elion didn’t waste time on the dead and turned towards the rest of them.

"That word you heard," he said. "Do not ever bring that up, or I’ll yank your tongues and hang you with them wrapped around your necks!"

The priests gulped down their saliva as they nervously nodded.

"The symptoms, I mean, does anyone know what happens once you catch the disease?"

"It spreads throughout the body within seconds," One priest spoke. "We fear... this is an unnatural creation."

Elion nodded, waiting for others to speak.

"Could it be... witchcraft?"

"The Deca tribe indulges in strange rituals and lives an unhealthy life. It could be their doing, considering how close we are to their village."

"Yes, it could be witchcraft."

"Or something even worse..."

The priests that once felt like kings of the city... now looked like frightened children. Elion clutched the sun-shaped pendant on his chest as if drawing strength from it.

"We must seal the district. No one comes in or goes out. Seize all the corps and burn them. Send word to nearby cities and villages to intercept the carts that have already left."

"But, Head Priest, it would be impossible—"

"Don’t make me repeat myself!" Elion yelled. "It is most likely the perpetrator targeted Shilia because of the kingdom’s dependance on our food reserves. We mustn’t let a single cart enter the capital at all costs!"

Some might think Elion had lost his mind by making such assumptions, but he didn’t care about his image. The higher-ups would probably kill him since the illness began from the city under his supervision.

The only thing he could do was to try and minimize the losses elsewhere to get a lighter sentence, and he would do anything for that.

Besides, he could not show weakness. If the people saw priests fear, the kingdom would crumble.

He turned to another priest. "Prepare a cleansing ritual. We will burn incense through the streets and force the plague out."

"But the healers are already falling sick as well—"

Elion slammed his hand onto the railing.

"For Solmere’s sake, just do it!"

The priests yelped and rushed away to execute his orders.

Days later, nothing seemed to improve.

The temple became a command center for the guards. People wearing special armor kept rushing in and out of the place, while the priests kept chanting nonstop prayers.

Elion watched as temple soldiers formed barricades, separating the dead from those alive. Citizens begged them for help, but they pointed spears instead.

"Stay back! Anyone could be infected!"

Elion wanted to look away. But he couldn’t. Protecting the city was his responsibility, one in which he failed spectacularly.

Then he noticed something strange.

Some people in the crowd were not sick yet... but their eyes looked glassy and unfocused. They swayed a bit, unsteady on their feet. They whispered to themselves like something inside their minds was talking back.

"We must... obey..."

"We must... live..."

"We must... change..."

"We must... become one..."

Elion saw it and frowned.

"What in Solmere’s name...?"

As if on cue, one of the priests directly working under him rushed into his chambers with a report from the capital’s healer squad, which had arrived earlier in the day.

"What does it say?" Elion asked, not wanting to touch the letter in case it carried the infection.

"That is not a normal sickness. It interferes with the infected’s souls!"

"What?"

"They mention something about interference in their spiritual threads," the priest reported. "Something is trying to rewrite them."

Rewrite their souls...? Does such a power actually exist?

Elion’s mouth went dry.

Someone planned this.

The disease wasn’t a curse. It was something beyond their understanding.

And whoever made it... was waiting for their evident implosion.