8. Curse Plague (7)
8. Curse Plague (7)
The church was not far from the village hall.
Beyond the hill, a round dome was visible among the buildings.
The critically ill patients were gathered there.
We could afford no delay, so we hurried our steps.
But unexpected obstacles blocked the road.
"Oh, Holy One. Holy One."
"Heal us too, please!"
"Saint Victor, grant your care to the afflicted."
The street had been empty just moments ago.
Now it was packed with victims of the Curse Plague.
Their condition was far worse than those we'd seen at the hall.
It was common to see a limb ruined; some had faces that had collapsed, unable to see or even breathe properly.
People who'd been lying inside waiting for death surged toward us, eyes blazing with desperate energy summoned from somewhere.
Those with infected legs crawled on their arms; those even too weak for that dragged their bodies across the ground, straining to reach us.
No, to be precise—they were heading for me.
The ones I'd healed had rushed through the village the moment their bodies recovered, spreading the news.
Their intention was good—to give hope to the despairing residents—but the propaganda effect was a little too strong.
At word that the curse could be healed, the residents scrambled out of their homes and surged toward me.
They reached out, desperate to grasp even the hem of my robe.
"What the—!"
"H-hey, stop!"
"Stand back!"
The soldiers blocked my front, but they couldn't overcome the sheer number of people, dozens of times their strength.
The villagers pressed ever closer to me.
"Ahh, may Saint Victor's care be with you!"
"Give us your blessing too!"
"Let your light shine upon us, even for a moment!"
They mistook me for a priest of the Holy Church.
I'd cured the Curse Plague with a touch, and the robe I wore was the habit of the church's monks.
It was no stretch for them to think I was a clergyman.
"Move aside! The more urgent patients come first!"
Even Ivanenko's sharp command didn't make them retreat a single step.
Ordinarily these residents would have bowed their heads at a knight's authority, but with their lives at stake, they paid no heed.
When he drew his sword, their hesitation was only momentary. They crammed themselves into any gap, trying to get just a little closer to me.
The sight of hundreds of people with grotesquely deformed bodies screaming and charging at me brought to mind a scene from a zombie film.
Even Ivanenko and the soldiers, who'd grown accustomed to the Curse Plague over the past days, cursed under their breath at the sight.
"Troupe Leader, shall I use magic?"
Maya stood in front of me, voice icy.
She showed no fear, disgust, or contempt toward the villagers, but she was ready to strike them down if necessary.
"That won't be necessary."
I felt pity watching their desperate struggling.
The orphanage where I grew up was run by a foundation tied to a pseudo-religious cult.
Every child there had some kind of physical impairment.
We all wanted only one thing.
The pastor whose touch would raise the paralyzed and heal the cancerous.
Receiving a single "blessing" from him was our lifelong wish.
How much scripture we memorized and how much we begged to fill the collection plate for that.
I couldn't bring myself to shake off these people clinging to me as a nuisance.
I understood their desperation.
So I stopped Maya from flinging them away with her telekinesis.
I tried to soothe them with gentle words.
I told them I had somewhere to go now, but after I returned, I would heal them.
But backed against a cliff, they wouldn't retreat easily.
They linked arms and lay down on the ground, barring the path.
They shouted that I'd never pass until I healed them.
Because of that, we advanced barely ten steps in ten minutes.
As we grew exhausted from this grueling push-and-pull, along with the residents, someone's hand touched my leg.
It had thrust out from an unexpected angle among the crowd.
Crunch.
Blood spattered with the sound of something being crushed.
A red stain spread across my white monk's robe.
Intense pain flared.
I looked down.
A chunk of flesh had been torn out of one thigh. Blood poured down.
A maw bristling with shark-like teeth was chewing my flesh, crunching wetly.
It was attached to a woman's hand. Even the hand's owner looked shocked, as if aghast at what her own hand had done.
"Troupe Leader!"
Maya, who'd been pushed far back by the crowd pressing in on me, shouted.
The people blocking her went tumbling down en masse.
She hurled her telekinesis wildly around her, racing toward me in a straight line.
Normally, even if shoved or knocked down, these villagers would have scrambled back up and lunged again. But seeing me bleeding, they stood frozen in place.
I looked down at the woman's hand.
-K-r-r-r-r
The toothed maw on her hand laughed, dripping bloody slobber from its lips, as if pleased.
If I'd been in normal condition, those teeth wouldn't have scratched my body.
My tissue hardness was 4.0—on par with plate armor.
But the plague Devoluts had weakened me considerably.
With the load on my body and system, my base stats must have dropped as well.
"Troupe Leader, are you all right?"
Maya landed in front of me.
Surprisingly, on that doll-like face that always maintained an expressionless mask, anger was visible—enough that even an ordinary person would recognize it.
She saw the wound on my leg, her complexion paled, and she glared at the woman trembling on the ground.
"I-I'm sorry! H-Holy One, I-I didn't mean to..."
"You... what are you doing...?"
Maya's usually calm voice quivered slightly.
As she extended her hand, the woman's body floated into the air.
Blades conjured from illusion appeared around her.
Dozens of thin, flat polyhedrons clearly intended to cut the woman's arm to pieces.
"How dare you..."
The aura Maya gave off was so menacing that not just the villagers but even the knight and soldiers flinched and edged away from her.
If she so much as twitched a finger here, the woman's arm would become mincemeat.
And that was a result I didn't want.
Not for the petty reason that it'd reduce the Devolut I'd absorb.
I had rescued Anais, who'd been tricked by Wonderstein and dragged into ruin.
I had rescued Shayla, who'd been caged as the Ghost's plaything.
I had rescued Minova, twisted by resentment and inferiority after losing his daughter.
While guiding victims of the game's unhappy endings toward different futures, I'd felt a sense of accomplishment that had nothing to do with quest rewards.
Someone who'd spent his life receiving nothing but others' help—it was undeniably joyful to be able to help someone.
But now I was facing the exact opposite situation.
Mage Maya was one of TTT's heroes.
Her cynical attitude kept her from winning as much popularity as the Knight or Thief, but she was a person of firm principles, never a villain.
And the Maya I'd seen since arriving here was the same.
Her indifferent attitude toward others and below-average social skills caused misunderstandings, but she was never selfish or bad.
Yet now she was veering off somewhere.
She'd joined our circus troupe because of my intervention in history.
As troupe leader, and as the player of TT0, I had to take responsibility for her changed fate.
If she gained notoriety because of this incident?
If she turned into a cold-blooded killer without pity or tears?
I would feel despair equal to all the fulfillment I'd felt from changing the future until now.
I could never let that happen.
I grabbed her shoulder.
"That's enough, Miss Maya. I'm fine."
My face was smiling widely, unintentionally.
My voice was calm too.
I hoped that seeing my composure would calm her down as well.
Maya looked at me, then clenched her teeth and slowly opened her mouth.
"Exactly... what part of you... is fine...?"
I regretted it the moment I'd spoken.
No matter how you looked at it, grinning and saying you're fine while bleeding profusely from having a chunk of flesh torn out was not normal.
I covered the wound with the hem of my robe and stopped her once more.
"It wasn't an intentional mistake, was it? I don't blame her."
Truly, I didn't blame her.
Of course, the instant those teeth bit me, I'd cursed up a storm inside, but I felt no desire for revenge against her.
The disabled often unintentionally cause trouble for those around them due to their innate handicaps.
A few of my friends at the orphanage were like that.
Unable to control their bodies, they'd knock over their food trays at mealtimes or shriek in their sleep during the night, making things hard for everyone.
But no one ever blamed them for it.
Everyone just accepted it.
The tolerance and consideration we gave them was no different from the basic compromises any group of humans make to live together. Only the type and degree of those compromises varied.
We too lived by receiving help and consideration from each other in the areas where we each fell short.
Maya turned her head away from me and roughly flung her hand.
The illusion blades disappeared and the floating woman thudded to the ground.
I approached the woman clutching her bloodied hand.
"...H-Holy One... I-I'm sor... I-I..."
"I understand. I know you didn't attack me on purpose."
I bent down and took her hand.
"Right now, there are people in critical condition at the church. I'll treat them first, then come take care of all of you. Ah, this hand is a little dangerous, so I'll deal with it now."
I absorbed the Devolut that had infected the woman's hand.
A hot energy flowed up my arm.
[Acquired De$#%$lut 19.]
[Abs@# of De!#$&lut type 45@$# begins.]
[D#ring subjugation, the body and s#3stem will be placed under load.]
The toothed maw on the woman's arm lost its strength and fell away.
-K-r-r-r....
It let out an unpleasant laugh to the very end, then lolled out its tongue and went limp.
Only the trace of something having been attached remained on the woman's arm.
She looked at her now-normal arm and burst into tears.
"Ahh, th... thank... thank you! I... ahh... ahh... Holy One."
She buried her face in the ground and sobbed.
The others, moved by the miracle they'd witnessed, one by one bowed their heads and wept.
"Ooh, the Second Coming of Saint Victor."
"Heal the plague demons..."
"Thank you, thank you. We'll wait, we'll wait..."
The human wave parted, creating a path leading up to the cathedral.