Chapter 380 - 371: Not Five, but Fifty

Chapter 380: Chapter 371: Not Five, but Fifty

It was nearly May, which should have been the most vibrant time of year in the Duchy.

Farmers would be shouting at their oxen, plowing furrows in the fields. Women, with baskets full of freshly baked wheat cakes, would be calling for their husbands. Barefoot children would be chasing each other across the meadows while tending their flocks.

Yet now, all Roland and his Knights saw was a deathly silence.

"Brother."

Leo Sun reined in his horse. His mount pawed nervously at the ground, snorting repeatedly.

All color had drained from his young face, his gaze fixed on a corpse in a ditch by the roadside.

The man’s body was twisted into an unnatural position. His skin had turned a grayish-black and was beginning to swell.

Most horrifying of all was his wide-open mouth, from which dark, clotted blood was oozing, matting half his face.

"This is the Blood Cough," Roland said calmly.

The arguments from the clan council hall before their departure echoed in his ears.

"Roland, we understand your concern for Diana. She is, after all, a Countess from a branch of our clan. But the Blood Cough is no small matter, and this is the Dawn Territory! Who knows if it’s an isolated island or a graveyard by now?!"

"Even if the Sun bloodline does have some resistance to plagues, how can you, the clan’s heir, risk your own life? To say nothing of bringing Leo! The properties of his Spiritual Qi are of great significance to the clan!"

"We should trust that the radiance of the Lord of Eternal Brilliance will protect Diana, not gamble the clan’s future on a slim chance."

Roland hadn’t argued. He had simply gathered his Personal Guard in the dead of night and brought along his cousin Leo, whose Knight’s aura could resist curses.

He had to come. The spirit of chivalry was part of the reason, but a deeper motive was Velin Klein.

Roland couldn’t fully explain it himself. He just had a premonition that Diana’s fate, the fate of the Sun Clan, and even the fate of the Duchy were somehow tied to that man.

"Brother, are we really going to keep going?" Leo’s throat felt tight. He could almost feel a blood clot lodged in his own throat. "There’s... there’s no one left alive here. This is hell."

"Our duty is to search for survivors in hell," Roland said, urging his horse forward to ride alongside his cousin. "Leo, remember our purpose. We do our best to save the Dawn Territory and help them hold back the plague. If the Dawn Territory falls, we take our cousin and leave."

This was the compromise he had made with the clan elders.

It was also the only excuse he could find for this "willful" journey of his.

Leo nodded, drawing some strength from his brother’s resolute words.

The column continued on. The villages they passed were lifeless, the fields overgrown with weeds.

However, after another half-day’s ride, a Scout galloped back with strange news.

"My lord! There’s fresh horse manure on the road ahead! Looks to be no more than half a day old!"

Roland’s heart skipped a beat.

’Horse manure? In this land of death?’

’How could a company of riders be traveling through a land scoured by plague?’

"Is it bandits?" one of the Knights asked warily. "They might be looting the deserted villages."

"Doesn’t look like it," the Scout said, shaking his head. "The hoofprints are too orderly, and there are quite a few. Not like bandits."

The same question rose in everyone’s mind.

With this question hanging in the air, they quickened their pace. When they crested a ridge, the silhouette of Light City finally appeared on the horizon.

And then, everyone froze.

The siege, the riots, the refugees storming the walls that they had expected... none of it was there.

Outside the city walls, a massive, orderly tent city was spread out. Countless simple tents were spaced apart, and people in uniform were distributing food and fresh water.

There were no cries of despair, no riots.

People moved about between the tents, and there were even uniformed individuals maintaining order.

There was only order.

An order that defied all logic in such an apocalyptic environment.

"Wh-what is going on?" Leo muttered, unable to comprehend the scene before him. "Those are refugees, right? Why aren’t they storming the walls? Aren’t they afraid of the plague?"

Roland couldn’t understand it either.

The only explanation he could think of was that Diana possessed an absolutely loyal and incredibly powerful army, and that she had suppressed the unrest with iron and blood.

’But with the Dawn Territory’s finances, is that even possible?’

They rode closer, soon arriving at a checkpoint.

Behind barricades and chevaux de frise stood nervous soldiers. When they saw the Sun Clan crest flying high above Roland’s party, they immediately sent someone to report.

Soon, an official who looked like a scribe came out and bowed respectfully.

"My lords of the Sun Clan, welcome to Light City. Before you enter, please allow us to perform the necessary quarantine procedures."

"What?!" a Knight behind Roland roared in anger. "You are insulting the honor of the Sun Clan!"

For a noble Knight to submit to "processing" by commoners was unheard of!

But Roland raised a hand to stop his man.

He stared at the official. The man’s deference was sincere, but his resolve to carry out his orders was equally firm. There was clearly no room for negotiation. This meant it wasn’t a deliberate slight against them, but a rule that applied to everyone.

"How do you conduct this ’quarantine procedure’ you mentioned?" Roland asked.

"Please dismount, my lords. We will spray and wash your armor, bags, and your mounts’ hooves with a special disinfectant."

Soon, several people wearing face masks and thick cloth gowns approached, carrying strange metal sprayers and buckets. The acrid smell of strong spirits filled the air.

Resistance was written all over the faces of Leo and the other Knights.

"Do as they say," Roland said, swinging himself off his horse.

’I have to find out what method Diana used to create this miracle. These strange quarantine measures might be part of the answer.’

After undergoing this strange "disinfection," they were finally allowed to enter Light City.

The scene inside the city was even more shocking to their party.

The streets were clean and tidy. Though there weren’t many pedestrians, shops were still open for business, and a crowd of literate citizens had even gathered in front of the notice board at the town hall to read the latest announcements.

This didn’t look at all like a city besieged by plague.

"Countess Diana..." Leo’s voice was filled with a dazed disbelief. "She actually... accomplished this?"

Roland was silent.

’This is beyond what can be explained by ’good management.’’

He met Diana in a small drawing room in the count’s castle.

The Countess looked exhausted, but there was an indefinable calm about her as she sat there quietly.

After a simple welcome, Roland dismissed the attendants and cut straight to the point.

"Diana, what is going on with everything outside the city, and those quarantine measures?"

Diana seemed to have expected his question. Instead of answering directly, she turned, took a metal box from a small cabinet nearby, opened it, and pushed it in front of Roland.

"It’s complicated to explain. Take a look at this first."

Inside the box, resting on a soft velvet lining, were ten crystal vials filled with a clear blue liquid.

"This is..." An outlandish possibility occurred to Roland.

"Aid from the Count of the White Tower," Diana said, a hint of pride in her voice. "It’s called ’Blood Cough Potion,’ a specific remedy for the plague."

"The Count of the White Tower? Velin Klein?" Roland blurted out.

"Yes."

"A specific remedy?!" Leo’s voice shot up. "That’s impossible! Even the Church needs a Four-Ring Divine Skill to cure it! How could he possibly have a specific remedy?"

Roland and his Knights were frozen in place.

They had imagined countless possibilities, but never this one—they had risked infection and come all this way for nothing.

"How many did he send? A few? A dozen?" Leo pressed, his breathing ragged. In his mind, even just ten vials, if used properly, could stabilize the morale of thousands of refugees, giving them hope and thus maintaining order.

Diana looked at their shocked faces and slowly held up five fingers.

"Five vials?" Leo was slightly disappointed, but that would still go a long way in easing tensions. As long as they could promise treatment to the refugee leaders, they could keep the people outside the walls in check.

"Fifty vials."

"Fifty!"

Leo sucked in a sharp breath.

Roland’s mind raced. ’Fifty vials... this isn’t just about calming people down. Combined with strict quarantine and control, it could actually quell the plague in this city!’

"Cousin Diana!" Leo could no longer remain composed. He took a step forward, his words earnest. "The Sun Clan bloodline may have some resistance to curses and plagues, but one can never be too careful. For our safety, could you... could you spare one vial for us? Name your price."

His words were somewhat rude, but in that moment, they reflected the truest of human nature.

Roland didn’t stop him. He also wanted to see how Diana would handle this.

’Will she treasure them like priceless jewels, or...?’

Diana glanced at Leo, then at Roland, and suddenly smiled—a genuinely relaxed smile.

Without the slightest hesitation, she pushed the metal box forward again.

"These three are a gift from the Dawn Territory to the Sun Clan."

"A... a gift for us?" Leo stammered, in complete disbelief.

Three vials!

’She just gave away three vials without batting an eye! These are treasures that could save three lives! And she just gave them away?’

Roland looked at Diana, realizing he couldn’t read his cousin at all anymore.

’Where does this composure and generosity come from?’

Diana saw their confusion.

Her smile widened.

"You don’t need to be so surprised. These fifty are just the beginning."

"As Count Velin requested, I have already selected one thousand of my most skilled artisans from the territory and sent them to Minas Tirith Port. They will work there in Count Velin’s Alchemy Workshop."

She turned and met Roland’s gaze.

"In exchange, starting next week, I will receive fifty vials of ’Blood Cough Potion’ every week."

Every week... fifty vials!

Roland felt a wave of dizziness.

"Once the spring planting is on track, I will organize another three thousand artisans to go."

"Velin says that helping an ally is helping yourself."

Roland reached out and picked up a crystal vial.

He looked at the blue liquid in the vial, which seemed to hold the very glow of life, and then looked out the window at the world that was beginning to revive from the shadow of death.

This wasn’t aid.

This wasn’t a miracle.

This was a partnership, a power he had rarely seen in his travels throughout the Duchy, but one that was immeasurably strong.

And Diana, his cousin, had already led the entire Dawn Territory to join this rising power.