Chapter 389 - 380: Escape from Steinbach

Chapter 389: Chapter 380: Escape from Steinbach

The smell of wood shavings was gone.

For Anton, who had been a cooper in Steinbach Town for half his life, this was more unsettling than the rising price of grain.

The fresh scent of oak, the smell of shavings, the rusty tang of iron hoops—these should have been part of his life. Now, only a lingering atmosphere of panic filled the workshop.

His tools hung neatly on the wall, polished to a shine, but they hadn’t been touched by fresh sawdust in three days.

The oak forest outside of town was sealed off by the lord’s guards, and no one dared to enter. Merchant caravans no longer came and went, and he had lost all his orders.

"Anton, what on earth are you thinking?"

The voice of his wife, Martha, came from the doorway. She was carrying a bowl of gruel so thin you could see your reflection in it. Her once round, full face now seemed sharp and angular, as if carved away by anxiety.

"The Lord’s Mansion posted a new notice." Martha placed the bowl on a dust-covered workbench. "Marquis Lorenzo’s family is offering a potion called ’Blood Cough Potion.’ They say it can cure the plague. But... it costs five whole Silver Moons."

Anton picked up a wooden board intended for the bottom of a barrel, his fingers tracing the fine grain. Five Silver Moons—that was three months’ worth of food for their family.

"What about the church?" he asked, without looking up.

"The church is giving out ’Holy Water’ for free." A hint of longing was in Martha’s voice. "The bishop said that if you are pious enough, the Lord of Eternal Radiance will perform a miracle. Many people stopped coughing the day after drinking it. Our neighbor, Klaus the blacksmith, was bedridden yesterday, but I saw him chopping firewood this morning."

"For free..." Anton repeated the words, pausing his work. "Martha, have you forgotten the famine three years ago? The church gave out free ’Holy Meals,’ and didn’t everyone ’donate’ their land deeds to the church right after?"

Martha’s face paled.

"But this is different! This is a plague, people are dying! Five Silver Moons... we can’t afford that. And even if we could, what if the potion doesn’t work?" ℯℯ𝑙.

"That’s why I want to wait and see." Anton finally looked up at his wife. "Just two more days. Klaus got better, but new patients are appearing in town every day. I want to see what happens to the people who drank the ’Holy Water’ in a few days."

Martha opened her mouth, but in the end, all that came out was a sigh. She didn’t leave, however. Instead, she pushed the bowl toward Anton, her voice pleading, "Drink this first. Or your body won’t hold up."

In these desperate days when everyone feared for their own lives, his wife’s clumsy show of concern was like a faint flicker of flame, bringing Anton a touch of warmth.

But he still shook his head, his voice softening. "What about Lina?"

"In the back room, reading that old book of hers."

"Take the gruel to her," Anton said. "A child needs to eat to grow. Every bite counts."

Seeing the resolute look in her husband’s eyes, Martha’s own eyes reddened. Unable to say another word of persuasion, she could only take the bowl of gruel and silently turn to leave.

Anton walked to the entrance of his workshop and looked out at the desolate street.

It was May, which should have been the busiest time for spring planting, yet the fields were nearly empty. The townspeople kept their doors and windows shut tight. The few who dared to venture out covered their noses and mouths with vinegar-soaked cloths and hurried on their way. Besides the sour, rotten smell, the only other scent in the air was the charred stench of burning bodies.

Panic was spreading faster than the plague itself. Food was dwindling, the price of firewood had doubled, and even the worst ale had become a luxury.

People didn’t know what to do, so they resorted to useless acts: hanging garlic on their doors, burning mugwort to fumigate their homes, or trading all their savings for silverware because of a legend that silver could ward off evil.

But even more people chose to flock to the church.

The next day, another wave of refugees fled from the north. They were ragged and sallow-faced, stopped by the guards at a temporary camp on the outskirts of town. They brought with them more desperate stories, and also more... coughing.

Anton’s daughter, Lina, was always soft-hearted. When her parents weren’t looking, she secretly slipped a piece of black bread she had saved through the crack of the door to a little girl huddled in a corner.

Three days later, Lina began to cough.

It was a dry, gut-wrenching cough, each one turning her small face beet red. Soon, she started running a fever, and faint traces of blood appeared on her handkerchief.

"Anton! We can’t wait any longer!" Martha completely broke down. She clutched their feverish daughter, tears streaming down her face. "I’m begging you, whether it’s the potion or the Holy Water, we have to try something!"

The next day, Anton also felt that itch deep in his throat.

He made a decision.

From a small wooden box under the bed, he took out a cloth pouch and poured out all the family’s savings. He counted it again and again, finally selecting the two most damaged Silver Moons and thirty-six Copper Leaves, and took them to the Lord’s Mansion.

The potion came in a plain, brown glass bottle, sealed with a cork and wax.

There were no markings, only a small parchment label on which "Blood Cough Potion" was written in a neat script.

He weighed the hope he had bought with a good portion of his savings, his mind racing. ’Lina is still young and her constitution is weak; maybe half a bottle will be enough to get her through this. My own cough has just started and the symptoms are mild, so the other half should be able to suppress it.’

Having made up his mind, he didn’t hesitate. He raised the bottle to his lips and took a small sip. The liquid was cold and bitter as it rolled down his throat and into his stomach. He held his breath for a few moments, and only after confirming his heart was still beating and he hadn’t dropped dead on the spot did he let out a long sigh of relief.