Chapter 456: The Uninvited Ghost Witch

Morlo directed a few of his fellow Kobolds to fetch a crate of medicinal herbs and show it to Ron.

Ron recognized most of the herbs inside. The majority were unprocessed roots, stems, and leaves, while a small portion had undergone some light preparation.

Morlo and the other Kobolds all spoke at once, explaining the principles behind each herb and describing their effects. They all knew their Lord had considerable skill in Herbalism, so after finishing their presentation, they looked at Ron expectantly, waiting for him to say something.

’Say... what?’

Ron silently picked out several herbs. A quick-witted Kobold immediately presented an ointment made from them.

’The ingredients weren’t processed properly, and the preparation technique was too crude, but other than that... there were no major issues.’ The herbs themselves had fever-reducing properties, and there were no contraindications when combining them. After all, Lavinia was around, so the preparation of these herbs had probably been reviewed by her. That they should theoretically be effective didn’t surprise Ron.

’Morlo said they were just fumbling around, but they really weren’t.’

But... Ron looked toward the patients. It was obvious these common remedies weren’t working as expected.

"It can’t even bring down a fever?"

"I’m afraid not," Morlo said, lowering his head. "Our best attempt so far only made one patient feel slightly better... for a little over half an hour."

"What about Alchemy Potions?" Ron asked, getting to what he was more concerned about. "And the Priests’ Divine Magic?"

"Those are more effective. Their Divine Magic can even completely cure a patient. But the newly recovered patients fall ill again almost immediately. The Priests can’t even treat someone as fast as the illness relapses..."

By now, Ron was almost certain the pathogen causing this plague was more than just a simple microorganism. Blindly trusting his own pharmaceutical skills would only waste more precious time.

After giving Morlo and the other Kobolds some instructions on caring for the patients, Ron quickly left. He needed help.

Not just manpower, but more importantly, he needed equipment—equipment more precise than what they usually used.

When Ron walked out of the Gagawaah Tavern, Anastina was waiting for him at the door.

"Um... I still want to help." The Elf Mercenary saw a hint of displeasure in the eyes visible over Ron’s mask and quickly spoke up. "Lord, I have a feeling it won’t be safe outside, either. What happens even if I go where you told me to? I still need to eat and drink! If I catch the plague outside the city, then wouldn’t I just be..."

"You’re right. Come on." Ron sighed. He had previously thought it was "just" a plague, so it made sense for Anastina to stay away from crowds. But the situation was far worse now. In a way, the mercenary’s sixth sense was spot on.

"Lord, where are we going?" Anastina asked, stepping forward nervously. Ron tossed a Potion from his alchemy pack, and she caught it.

"The Divine Hall. First, give yourself a quick wash with that Potion." These were all essential field supplies Ron kept on hand, based on his professional judgment. He never had a chance to use them back when Magic was readily available, but now they finally had their use. "Also, do you have other clothes? Try to cover any exposed skin."

With so many patients being moved to the tavern, the Divine Hall was bound to be overflowing. For an Elf dressed so revealingly, it would be nearly impossible to avoid getting infected in that environment.

"O-okay." Anastina had never seen Ron so serious, not even during their past adventures. She immediately pulled some more conservative gear from her pack and quickly threw it on. "Did you find any clues?"

"This plague isn’t just caused by bacteria, viruses, or fungi. It’s very likely infused with Magic," Ron said, walking and speaking quickly. "The outbreak started three days ago. Based on what we’re seeing, the incubation period isn’t long—it’s extremely short. The pathogen isn’t highly lethal, but it’s incredibly contagious. Leaving aside the magical element, it’s probably not a new pathogen. At least at the tavern, no one has died from it yet."

With Ron in the lead, the two soon arrived outside the Divine Hall. They could see Aive and others bustling about, but their help was limited to menial tasks. While it eased the burden on the Priests, it did little to change the overall situation.

"Ron! You’re here. How are things at the tavern?"

As Ron approached, a short woman in a floor-length robe and a bird-beak mask hurried over, asking anxiously.

The voice from behind the mask was a little hoarse, but Ron still recognized it as Lavinia’s. The Half-Elf Alchemist had also thrown herself into the treatment efforts.

"It’s bad. The herbs aren’t working," Ron said, shaking his head. "Most of them have persistent high fevers. If this goes on, there’s bound to be permanent damage."

"Those are the mild cases. We’re only sending the patients with lighter symptoms to the tavern," Lavinia sighed. "Come. I’ll show you a truly severe case."

The Half-Elf pointed behind her. Inside the Divine Hall, beneath the Divine Statue of Taimola, a creature far larger than the surrounding people was huddled in a ball, trembling under a large blanket. The human part of her body was flushed red, but her lips were purplish-black. Her eyes were clamped shut; even in unconsciousness, pain had not released its grip on the Centaur.

Zandia, the leader of the Centaurs, was here—and she had the most severe symptoms. Ron scanned the other areas and spotted several more Centaurs. The conditions of these large folk were all dire, meaning they, who already required special attention, now needed even more people to care for them.

As Ron approached Zandia, he noticed a stooped old crone setting up a large cauldron beside the Centaur leader, brewing some sort of concoction. Her small frame was dwarfed by the Centaur, which was why Ron hadn’t noticed her at first.

"Ghost Witch Polly?" Ron froze for a second. ’I can’t believe she’s here.’

"Ah, so our absentee lord has finally returned?" the old woman said, looking up with a wicked grin. "Surprised? You forbade me from coming near your town, but too bad. This old crone invited herself."

"And what’s more, I’m going to make this little half-human, half-horse girl drink the Potion I’m brewing!"

Polly didn’t stop her work at Ron’s arrival. She stirred the large ladle in the cauldron with vigor. As the eerie, fluorescent green liquid bubbled and churned, bits of herbs and the mangled limbs of insects and other creatures floated to the surface. Three eyeballs spun around in the vortex, occasionally glancing in Ron’s direction.