The Engineered Calamity
The parts where the plant's roots had extended upward were all dried and hardened, resembling earthworms.
"This is... the Worm Pest? That parasite you mentioned?"
At Loki's question, Alex shook his head.
"That's an amusing way to put it. These aren't parasites—they're parasitic plants. Though they lack stamens and pistils, they produce eggs on their own. Ah! Calling them parasites because they lay eggs does make some sense."
"......"
The Worm Pest that Loki had seen resembled damp, wriggling earthworms. It was hard to believe this was the same thing, given the stark difference in appearance.
"It looks completely different."
"After parasitizing a host, the Worm Pest sucks up their blood. Using those nutrients, it lays eggs—or more precisely, seeds. The Worm Pest's skin toughens as it absorbs blood, gaining resistance to physical attacks."
"......"
"These things primarily gather in the heart, brain, and muscles. They forcibly animate the corpse of the dead. They become the muscles, the heart, the brain themselves, forming a single fake human."
Alex took a breath.
"A single drop of blood produces hundreds of seeds, which take root to form clusters of thousands, even tens of thousands, building a body... That's how the Wight is born—a monster ordinary people can't hope to fight."
Loki recalled the Wights he had slain. When they burst open, Worm Pest had poured out from their bodies. And inside, their flesh had been hollow. Like a massive earthworm shaped like a human mannequin.
"These creatures particularly favor 'humans.' And they feed solely on blood. That's why they're so incredibly dangerous. A calamity like this hasn't struck the continent in ages."
"...You know quite a lot. It's rare to find anyone who's studied a naturally occurring plague like this."
"...Naturally occurring? Ha! Do you really think nature birthed this abomination?"
Alex wore an incredulous expression. His voice rose in anger, his face flushed with fury.
"The continent is full of mysteries and wonders, but do you seriously believe a mere plant... acquired magic and started assaulting living beings?"
Alex swept his trembling hands over his face.
"For thousands, tens of thousands of years, with no warning whatsoever, this monstrous plant just appears out of nowhere? No. Absolutely not! This... this was artificially created!"
"Artificially...?"
"Yes! The Holy Church theorizes that the Worm Pest was made by someone. And the one who created it was none other than..."
Alex trailed off, overcome with emotion. He glanced nervously at Loki before forcing the words out.
"The king of the great empire Hanes Empire that terrorized the continent fifty years ago—the Demon King Kalib."
"No!"
At that moment, Salat burst out shouting. As if her earlier silence had been a lie, she clenched her fists and glared at Alex and Loki, yelling.
"No! That's not true! The one who made this was..."
'You humans!'
Salat's face twisted as if she might cry, but she couldn't voice the words. A lump formed in her chest, her body trembling.
Loki placed a gentle hand on her head, stroking her hair softly. Even with her hood up, Salat grabbed his hand with both of hers and pressed it harder against her head. Biting her lower lip as if desperate to forget the painful memories and seek comfort, she merely sobbed quietly.
After some time passed, Salat murmured softly.
"...I'm going for a walk."
As if wanting to shake off her gloom, Salat left the laboratory.
Loki didn't follow. He simply turned back to Alex and continued calmly.
"...Please go on."
"Y-Yes? Ah, yes..."
Caught off guard by the suddenly heavy atmosphere, Alex stammered before sharing what he knew.
"Well... There's a reason the Worm Pest is a plant. Trees have possessed a mystical ability to absorb supernatural powers since ancient times. That's why so many people use wood for tokens or idols. And it's the same reason mages and priests use wooden staves."
Alex took a breath.
"In any case, we've concluded that the Worm Pest was born from dark magic exploiting that principle. Curiously, while it parasitizes non-humans, it only uses them as a means of transport to a new host. That alone proves it was designed specifically against 'humans.' Yes! That's why those children...!"
Alex shouted, veins bulging on his forehead in excitement, but he quickly realized he'd lost control and stopped.
"...Whew. I got too worked up."
Loki was deeply intrigued. For an old man in this remote village to have conducted such research? It went beyond mere curiosity or interest—it bordered on obsession.
"You said it only infects humans... Are there no reports of it infecting monsters or other plants?"
"Pardon? Ah, yes..."
Alex took a deep breath to compose himself. Then, struck by sudden doubt, he questioned Loki in return.
"...You didn't know? That the Worm Pest only infects humans?"
Alex seemed flustered. This information alone could prevent widespread panic across the continent. And yet, it remained unknown?
"I've only recently taken an interest in the Worm Pest."
Loki might be one thing, but in truth, hardly anyone on the continent knew much about it. The healers and herbalists currently studying it were clueless about what could or couldn't be infected. Even if rumors spread, they were quickly buried.
Because if it wasn't from the Holy Church, no one believed it.
'Did the Church withhold it?'
Alex fell silent. Fifty years had passed since the plague began. The Church had produced holy water, but no detailed information.
'...The Holy Emperor's doing? How far has that man fallen?!'
They might have kept it secret to bolster their influence. Alex ground his teeth.
Convinced he had to spread the word, he continued.
"...If you travel, please share this. The Worm Pest infects only humans—not animals. Even demi-humans like elves or dwarves who resemble us aren't affected, no matter how similar. Not even half-breeds."
"...You're sharing quite a lot of detail."
"This has nothing to do with hoarding information. A plague this dangerous requires everyone's effort to combat."
Alex was furious that even this basic knowledge hadn't spread across the continent. It was a fact the Holy Church had uncovered fifty years ago.
'Whatever their scheme, I'll make sure this gets out! Tonight, I'll write to His Holiness the Pope! I'll warn him the Holy Emperor might be plotting something!'
Loki glanced at Alex, then at the books in the hut.
"Those are...?"
"My compiled research findings."
"May I take a look?"
"Of course. But..."
Alex hesitated.
"It might be safer to read elsewhere. Even though this glass is magically reinforced..."
"Could it break?"
"...Not unless you try to smash it. The Worm Pest can't even pierce orc hide."
"Then I'll read here. With so much material, moving it would take too long."
"Pardon? But..."
Alex glanced at the carpeted floor, stealing a look at Loki.
'It'll be fine. No way they'll find it.'
His secret underground lab weighed on his mind. But it was dark—they wouldn't think to go in.
"Yes, that's fine. There's a herb storage room too, so feel free to browse slowly."
Alex relented. After decades alone in this isolated place, the company of a visitor felt precious. He was lonely, his perspective narrowed.
"Then... we'll stay one more night."
Though uneasy, Alex felt a quiet relief at Loki's words.
The Worm Pest cannot pierce the tough hides or hard shells of certain creatures. ...(excerpt)... This cannot be called a natural occurrence. It was 'designed' as a weapon. And its designer is one of two: the Demon King Kalib, or...
"......?"
Loki, reading the research notes, crossed his arms and stroked his chin. A crucial section was blank.
Had he forgotten to write it? Erased it deliberately? Or planned to fill it later?
In any case, Alex theorized the Worm Pest was created by someone.
'Can magic even produce a lifeform like this?'
Undead made of souls and bones could be summoned, so it wasn't that mysterious.
Loki continued reading in Alex's lab until late evening.
"No."
'Nothing to do with Helga at all.'
He'd wondered if the angel of death might cause plagues. But the Helga avatar he'd created had curse skills, yet nothing to produce Worm Pest.
Helga—true name Hel. In Norse myth, the goddess of death. Her skills were mostly curses, darkness, summoning, and healing.
'Helga's skills can't create Worm Pest. So is she completely unrelated to the plague? Then treating it would be...?'
Those rumors were likely true. With death-related skills, Helga had healing ones too—and beyond that, resurrection for the dead.
Her 'Resurrection' skill revived targets as living beings, naturally seeding them as her spawn. Powerful, but with heavy restrictions: target must die within 10 minutes; caster immobilized for 3 minutes; 30-minute cooldown; mana cost dozens of times higher than others.
'Compared to me, Helga seems the true god.'
Reviving the dead? That was divine. Even Loki couldn't do it. And it bound them strongly to her as spawn.
Aum Linia had mentioned her many followers before coming to the continent. Likely revived by her skill.
"This... is a headache. No clue where to start."
Without solid leads, he had to keep tracking the plague.
'...Short on intel. Need to contact the frozen lands, Asgard.'
They wouldn't have precise info, but narrowing to Ronia Kingdom might yield something.
'...Boring.'
Salat watched Loki's back as he sat reading for hours. She'd gone out to calm herself, but night had fallen, and the eerie graveyard vibe deterred her.
All she could do was one thing...
"...This mixture's off."
Compounding medicine. Salat pulled out reagents from the lab. She sighed pitifully at Alex's potions.
'Like total amateurs made these. Even underage elves could do better!'
She ground and mixed herbs. Elves studied pharmacology from youth—especially royalty like her.
'Done!'
Salat smiled at her creation. Rare forest herbs allowed potent brews: wound salves, fatigue cures, and more.
'Take 'em! Might need later!'
As she tried sneaking them, a voice rang out.
"Don't take others' things without permission."
"...I made them."
"They were made from that priest's materials first."
Salat felt regret staring at Loki, who turned his head.
"He said browse, not take. Respect his words."
"...Fine."
His firm, low tone sapped her energy. After all that effort...
Salat eyed his back again. Replacing the potions, her hand slipped. They shattered noisily on the floor.
"......?!"
Startled, Salat scraped up the mess—and spotted something odd. A gap beneath the plush carpet.
"......?"
Lifting it revealed a handle and an iron door.