The Winds of Plague (1)
"Could what you mentioned earlier really be interpreted that way?"
"Yes. His Eminence the Archbishop said the very same."
"Haaah..."
"If you find my words difficult to believe, would you prefer to hear it from another priest?"
"No, it's not that. It isn't that I doubt you, Father... Forgive me."
It was not skepticism that prompted her words, nor was it disbelief that had drawn out that heavy sigh. Priests dedicated the better part of their lives to prayer and theological study. Through unbroken devotion, they cultivated divine power in place of mana. That sacred grace possessed terrifying influence—capable of knitting flesh together and wrenching those hovering at the threshold of death back into the light of the living.
Yet that applied only when holy power was channeled into the healing arts. The divinity granted to these particular priests was not meant for restoration; it was the power to decipher divine revelations. Men who spent their entire lives sequestered in the temple doing nothing but interpreting the divine word were not prone to misreading it.
"Hmm... I confess I do not grasp its full significance myself, but seeing the Countess react in such a manner makes me realize it must be quite grave."
"...It goes beyond merely grave, I'm afraid."
Having listened to the account inside the carriage, Dahlia chimed in to support her sister's reaction. The priest exhaled a heavy breath, shaking his head faintly.
"To think the Marchioness herself would say as much..."
"It is just ahead. It would be best for you to see it with your own eyes."
The two sisters followed in silence. Past the quiet rows of the prayer halls, they moved deeper into the sanctuary until they stood before the chamber of revelation. Their footsteps came to a halt. The heavy final doors swung inward, revealing the inner sanctum to the three of them.
Before them lay the clock face and the circle of clock hands. The cryptic oracle, bestowed jointly by the Spiritual Constellations of the north and south, commanded the room.
"The clock... Is this the oracle you spoke of?" Dahlia asked.
"No. Not that one," Denise replied.
"Pardon?"
"I personally assisted in deciphering that one. That's how I know."
"As Countess Beryl says, the Oracle of the Clock remains undeciphered," the priest clarified, gesturing toward the chamber's far wall. "Please, look over here."
Past the intricate diagram of the clock lay another formation, rendered in stark lines across the stone.
"You should read it from left to right. As I mentioned earlier, these two glyphs denote a plague. Standing beside them is a young soldier raising his shield to hold it back."
Taking up a shield against an abstract concept like pestilence was nonsensical on its face. It had to be an allegory.
"A young soldier holding a shield against the plague, is it...? If that represents the people fighting on the front lines right now, the pieces fit together rather neatly."
"Indeed. It sounds remarkably like the ongoing Scheat Great Subjugation Campaign."
The priest nodded, confirming Dahlia's deduction. The Principality's soldiers were currently locked in combat against the Scourges—the presumed vectors of the Lemterte Plague. Between the explicit mention of pestilence and the depiction of a defender holding a shield to protect the realm, the imagery mirrored their current reality almost perfectly.
"However, three more drawings manifested here today. That is precisely why I requested your presence."
"This is... the same young soldier from before?"
The figure they had assumed to represent the Principality's forces appeared once more. Yet this time, his shield lay shattered at his feet, and the man knelt in utter despair.
"Ominously, if this soldier signifies our Principality, it implies that ruin awaits us."
"And yet, the reality on the ground tells a very different story, does it not?"
"What do you mean?"
"Even under brutally adverse conditions, the expeditionary force has already sent back word of their first victory. The subjugation is progressing smoothly as we speak."
"Hrmm..."
An unmistakable chill lingered over the glyphs. It was easy to see why the priest had sent for them in such a panic, terrified that an unprecedented catastrophe was about to swallow the Principality whole. Still, given the expedition's continued success, the three of them tentatively concluded that the immediate crisis had passed.
"And lastly, there is this magic circle. I cannot say whether it bears any connection to the first two, but I felt compelled to show it to you both."
"...!"
"Sister, this is..."
"...Indeed. This is no magic circle," Denise murmured, her eyes widening. "You made an exceptionally wise choice in summoning only the two of us, Father."
Though labeled a magic circle, none of the priests—not even the Archbishop—nor any of the Academy's arcane scholars had been able to make sense of it when consulted. Every one of them had merely shaken their heads in bafflement. But the sisters' reaction was entirely different. Seeing their recognition, the priest finally pressed his question.
"What in heaven's name is this formation?"
It had not been the reason they rushed here, but had the priest mentioned this glyph first, the sisters would have flown across the city all the same. Hesitating for a fleeting second, Denise broke the silence.
"Tell me, Father... How much do you know regarding the fundamental classifications of human mana?"
"Pardon...?"
Her sudden inquiry began, unexpectedly, with the elemental nature of mortal souls.
BANG—!
A burst of fireworks echoed from the rear lines. Team Tembris halted in unison, watching three crimson flares blossom against the sky in rapid succession.
"Three shots. We need to wrap this up immediately."
The signal flare was an order: the defensive lines were beginning to buckle under the endless onslaught of beasts, meaning all detached units were to pull back if their objectives could not be met in time. And the count mattered. Three consecutive bursts meant they had thirty minutes to regroup with the main force.
"Thirty minutes should be plenty. What do you all think?" Goden asked, battering away a cluster of lunging Scourges.
"Choose your words carefully," a voice corrected him sharply. "You mean thirty minutes to kill that thing and make it back to the main body."
"Same difference in my book!"
CLANG—!
With the steadfast resolve of an iron fortress, Goden drove his greatshield upward, deflecting a massive forelimb that could have crushed a carriage. Towering over the miserable, dog-sized Scourges they had fought thus far was a monstrous silhouette that blotted out the light.
It was Shanberesh of the Plague—a creature initially classified as a Named Demonic Beast, and the suspected broodmother of the entire Scourge infestation.
Given that the Scourges detonated themselves to spray parasite-laden fluids and degrade the mana circuits of any living host, the team had braced for an agonizing, protracted struggle when they first engaged the broodmother. But contrary to their grim expectations, the creature itself was surprisingly toothless.
"Senia, are you absolutely certain about this?"
"Why ask me twice, Aris? You think I'd make jokes in the middle of a raid?"
"Just double-checking! Still, who would've guessed its mana circuits were built so completely differently? Not that I'm complaining—it makes taking this thing down a breeze!"
Having peered into Shanberesh's internal anatomy with her Mana Eye, Senia had discovered that despite the creature's immense bulk, its biological structure bore little resemblance to its offspring. It was built exclusively for mass incubation and reproduction. It lacked the specialized circuits required to trigger a suicidal detonation.
And that meant only one thing.
"Then let's blow this overgrown rat to pieces!"
BOOM!!
—SKREEECH!!!!
"Phew! Now that's what I call satisfying!"
"I'm freezing its left hind leg again! Aris, hold your fire on that side!"
"Heard you loud and clear! Goden, cover my right flank!"
"Leave it to me! I won't let a single pebble through!"
Without the threat of explosive parasitic contamination, they were free to pour their mana into devastating spells—provided the regular Scourges didn't swarm them. Naturally, with their mother under concentrated assault, the brood was not about to sit idly by. Yet Team Tembris had anticipated that as well.
"Michel! Erika! How long can you hold the perimeter?"
"Five minutes. Finish it before then if you can. Erika's starting to look exhausted."
"I'm fine! I can hold for ten if I have to!"
"We won't need anywhere near that long. Right, everyone?"
"Then let's bring it down now. I'm switching from parrying to full offense!"
"I'll set up the final blow. Carve me an opening!"
A roaring wall of Blue Flame, which incinerated ambient mana on contact, combined with an impenetrable barrier of sacred divine light. Together, they partitioned the battlefield, creating a clean staging ground where the vanguard could butcher Shanberesh unhindered. Every member executed their designated role with terrifying efficiency. Before long, the gargantuan beast collapsed heavily onto the blood-soaked earth, riddled with lethal wounds.
THUD.
From the moment they engaged to the second its breath faded, barely five minutes had elapsed.
"Subjugation complete! Fall back to the main force at once!"
With the broodmother dead, their immediate priority was delivering the intelligence back to camp—before any more soldiers fell victim to the parasites.
At that very moment, Team Tembris was not the only unit responding to the signal flares.
"Wait, fireworks? That's the signal, right?"
"Yeah. It's the order to fall back. They want us to regroup with the main army."
Stationed at the rear to prevent the main army from being flanked, the Academy's third-year detachment saw the flares lighting up the overcast sky. All that remained was for the scattered units to pull back to the rendezvous point.
"How the hell did Junon know? He's already carving a path toward the main force."
"Beats me. Don't ask me."
"Isn't he pushing himself way too hard, though...?"
"Then tell him to slow down! Hey! Junon! Don't push ahead alone, stick with the formation!"
No response came.
Without a word, as if merely fulfilling a grim, solitary duty, Junon continued to cleave through the encroaching Scourges alone, tearing open a safe path for the rest to follow.
"Hmm..."
Standing at the edge of the staging ground, the adjutant pulled out a pocket watch to check the time. Professor Muniher had issued strict orders: if the detached units failed to return within thirty minutes, a rescue detachment was to be deployed immediately. As it turned out, the precaution was entirely unnecessary.
"Oh! Look there! It's Team Tembris!"
They returned without a single casualty. To top it off, they dragged Shanberesh's severed tail behind them as proof of the kill. They had dismantled the Named Demonic Beast so effortlessly that any prior doubts about their capability seemed downright foolish in hindsight.
"Team Tembris reporting in. Shanberesh has been eliminated; all members returned safely."
"Splendid work. Five minutes more and I would have sent a strike team after you."
"Haha! Our team isn't fragile enough to need a rescue, sir."
"Regardless, you did exceptionally well. Thanks to your kill, the swarms at the front have thinned out noticeably. You must be exhausted—head to the barracks and get some rest."
"Ah... I'm afraid resting will have to wait. There is an urgent matter I must report. Where might I find the Supreme Commander?"
"If it's Duke Gelbarten you're looking for..."
Come to think of it, the commander had left the front lines in the adjutant's hands to attend to business elsewhere.
"He went to oversee the reception of the rearguard detachment."
Goden inclined his head in thanks and hurried off toward Muniher's post.
Around the same time, the third-year students who had shielded the main force's rear flank finally crossed the perimeter. Aside from the adjutant, none of the officers had expected them to return in such good condition. Though drenched from head to toe in foul monster fluids, barely any of them carried serious injuries.
The only glaring issue was their headcount.
"An entire squad appears to be missing. What happened to them?"
"...They deserted, sir. The miserable cowards."
"What? In the middle of an active engagement?"
"Yes, sir! Those bastards ran and left our flank wide open! We nearly got encircled and slaughtered because of them!"
The students practically spat venom, heaping curses on the peers they had called comrades only hours before.
"Understood. Settle down. You have fought well, and you need rest."
Promising that battlefield desertion would be met with the swiftest, harshest penalties, Muniher directed the exhausted students toward dry quarters and provisions. In truth, bringing this many survivors back intact under such conditions was nothing short of miraculous. And Muniher knew full well who was responsible for dragging them out alive.
Yet...
Why does your face look so grim, Junon?
The young man who had served as the unsung hero of this engagement looked utterly devoid of relief. His footsteps toward the barracks were heavy and dragging, his slumped shoulders carrying an unbearable weight that seemed ready to crush him into the mud.
"What on earth could have happened out there for him to look so grim after securing such an overwhelming victory?"
Plop. Drip.
Patter, patter...
"Tsk, rain. As if the sweltering heat wasn't miserable enough on its own. If our retreat had been delayed any longer, we would have been caught in a quagmire. At this rate, that boy shouldn't be called an unsung hero—he deserves a public citation for meritorious service."
Muniher frowned, watching the raindrops darken the dry soil. What could be haunting the boy so deeply?
Before his thoughts could settle, hurried footsteps splashed through the mud.
"Haa, haa... Supreme Commander!"
"Hm? What brings you here? Weren't you ordered to rest?"
"It's... it's about the Lemterte Plague, sir! That...!"
As Goden struggled to catch his breath and piece his thoughts together, Senia pushed past his shoulder, her voice cutting through the rising wind with sharp urgency.
"The Scourges spread microscopic larvae hidden inside their bodily fluids when they self-detonate! Those larvae use any creature possessing mana as a host, gorging on their circuits from the inside out! We have to establish quarantine measures immediately!"
"What did you say?!"
The drizzle abruptly gave way to a violent downpour.
A suffocating deluge cascaded from the heavens, drowning the camp in heavy, oppressive heat.