Inheriting the Novel

Chapter 38 : The Source of the Plague (2)

The Source of the Plague (2)

"Young master! Wh-why have you come to see Her Highness the princess? And the others...?"

Monet seemed so startled that she tugged at my collar, her voice trembling.

It pained my heart to see her that way, but I had no choice.

"Don't worry. Everything will be fine."

"Wh-what are you saying so ominously?!"

I truly didn't want to drag Monet into matters like this if I could avoid it.

But just this once, I inevitably needed her help.

==

〈Monet〉

Age: 20

Gender: Female

Role in the story: Servant of the Vanhart count family (Main cast)

Abilities: Miraculous Luck

Special trait: Main character of the novel "Sound of the Sword". The woman Fabian trusts most, sharing a sibling-like bond from childhood. She possesses great dexterity and extraordinary luck.

Owing to the calamity of disease and demons, she ingested the Crystal of Disease.

Three days after ingesting the Crystal, the plague breaks out, causing death within two days of onset.

Monet, thanks to her miraculous luck, generated an antibody during the incubation period and did not develop the illness.

Later, when Fabian learned of this, he developed a cure with imperial support.

==

'Bearer of the antibody.'

Already, on the first day I arrived in the empire, Monet's profile stated "in the process of generating antibodies."

But now, it showed that the antibody had been perfectly generated and she was fully recovered; additional information on Fabian's actions had also appeared.

'Monet's luck... Isn't that just broken?'

No matter how lucky, to generate an antibody so quickly?

It made zero sense, but as per her profile, I could only accept it.

"Is it true that this maid possesses an antibody?"

Riya glanced between Monet and me before smiling sweetly.

It was a gentle smile, but the eyes were not smiling, which somehow made it unsettling.

"Yes, that's correct."

I offered my response as politely as possible. Chatting informally with her was only acceptable when we were alone.

"Y-young master, her Highness the princess seems to be staring daggers at me... Did I do something to offend her?"

Monet whispered in my ear, pulling at my collar.

Riya's smile deepened at that.

"Your Highness, so about what I mentioned before..."

"Clay."

Click, clack.

Riya boldly strode right up to me.

'Didn't she just address me by name?'

It's never considered casual for a princess to address a man by his name.

Unsurprisingly, ripples of surprise spread through those nearby.

"Your Highness the princess...?"

"Didn't we promise to call each other by our names?"

"... That was only when no one else was around, wasn't it?"

I murmured quietly enough that only Riya would hear.

Riya looked at me with a slightly sulky expression for some reason.

"... Yes, that's right. You really are shameless."

She glanced at Monet, then gave a faint sigh.

"Anyway, as the count said, we've gathered as much manpower as possible from across the empire."

Riya turned and began introducing the group behind her one by one.

There were scholars who studied various diseases and medicine, mages from the Magic Tower, and finally, members of the clergy.

'There are more medical scholars than I'd expected.'

It was as if Riya had read my thoughts, as she began speaking composedly.

"It's true that medicine hasn't been treated well due to the existence of the clergy and mages. But that shouldn't mean it's neglected."

She cast a brief look at Monet before continuing.

"No matter how many mages and priests there are, they alone have fixed limits on the number they can tend to."

"Yes, that's true. I suppose it's just that we've forgotten that fact, since there haven't been any major epidemics in recent decades."

"It was an inevitable issue—destined to emerge sooner or later with the proliferation of magic and clergy."

In the end, the market is driven by demand.

Even if you develop medicine and train doctors, if nobody is seeking their services, the profession will fade away.

The doctors before me were being directly supported and trained by the empire; without such support, they couldn't possibly sustain their research.

"And the candy... I mean, the Crystal you sent yesterday? The analysis of its components is now complete."

With that, Riya signaled to the scholars.

The eldest of them stepped forward excitedly.

"Ooh! Count Vanhart, her Highness told me everything! You're the first to uncover the truth about this disease!"

He rushed to me with an enraptured expression.

If Riya hadn't stopped him, he might have hugged me right then and there.

'Didn't expect such an intense reaction.'

When I handed over the Crystal to Riya yesterday, I'd given a brief explanation about the disease.

It seemed they thought I'd deduced everything myself.

[What a fraud.]

'I didn't intend for it to be like this this time, either.'

It was a bit embarrassing to be credited, but explaining further would have been cumbersome.

"Ahem, in any case, as you said, Count, this disease can't be cured by any magic."

The old scholar seemed to realize he'd gotten overexcited and coughed awkwardly before continuing.

"You may know that holy magic and detoxification magic work by expelling harmful elements. But this disease exploits that weakness."

"What do you mean?"

"The human body's immune system fights to heal itself. But this disease overstimulates the immune system, making it the problem. So, magic that eliminates only what's harmful cannot cure it."

Riya, dissatisfied with the lengthy response, spoke up.

"Summarize it in one sentence."

"It's harmless during the incubation period, but fatal once it manifests."

"Well done."

Riya smiled. The doctor trembled.

... It was just as I'd read in the synopsis.

"Now, the next step is to verify the antibody in Miss Monet's body."

Monet, hearing her name, stared blankly, eyes wide.

"M-me? An... antibody? Young master, what's that?"

Flustered, Monet turned to me. But there was no avoiding her help—her participation was necessary to make a cure.

"It just means we'll take a little of your blood. There's nothing to worry about."

"R-really...?"

"I'm not lying this time. You'll be fine. I'll buy you omurice, just like I promised."

"Ugh, fine..."

After barely calming Monet down, I turned to the scholar.

"Roughly how long will it take to develop a cure?"

"Hmm, we still lack information about the disease, so..."

The scholar did some mental calculations before speaking calmly.

"At the earliest, two weeks. That's assuming full cooperation from the Magic Tower, the temple, and Her Highness's assistance."

Two weeks. That was, in fact, incredibly quick for producing a cure for a new disease.

With magic, divine miracles, and the power of Dragon Tongue, it was just barely possible.

'No. That's too long.'

There was no way the Crystal of Disease Edward had was the only one.

'Since things are still quiet, it can't have started spreading more than a day or two ago.'

According to people in the slums, Edward had handed out packages of candy to children just yesterday.

After they shared and ate the candies, some went out to sell what was left.

'To use children like that!'

I ground my teeth and shook my head.

Tracking down the candy and children who'd ingested the Crystal was already assigned to the knight order commander.

'There can't be many infected yet. But if we don't develop a cure, soon it'll spread uncontrollably.'

At best, it would take three or four days to reach that point.

"... If we learned more about the disease, could you finish sooner?"

"Hmm, probably, but honestly it's difficult to say."

I fell silent, deep in thought at the scholar's answer.

"..."

"Young master?"

Fabian had surely eked out victory at great cost. He would have had to fight the calamity of disease and demons far longer than this.

"Your Highness."

"Yes?"

"May I ask you for a few more favors?"

I stared at the floating letters before me.

Letters that only I could see.

* * *

Third day of the preliminaries.

Now that the final qualifiers were approaching, people were starting to talk about the New Stars appearing in this year's imperial tournament.

"The representatives at this Founding Festival are all impressive."

"Not to mention Darsha's warrior."

"And the young lion from famed Ribina—his reputation's well deserved."

"It's just a pity about the mages. I had high hopes for the witch from the Duchy of Cenberton, but she's disappointed."

"Speaking of mages, it's really unfortunate Her Highness the princess withdrew."

Two men chatted, overlooking the arena, where a man just descended having won his duel.

"At least Sir Sylvest is still in. He'll protect the empire's honor."

The representative of the empire, Ian Sylvest.

No one had lasted even ten exchanges against him so far.

"Pride of the Sylvest family!"

"The empire's Silver Wolf!"

Every step Ian took, cheers echoed throughout the coliseum. Handsome and skilled, his popularity was second to none.

As Ian stepped down from the arena, a new challenger with black hair stepped up.

"That guy..."

"Wasn't he a knight of the kingdom of Talua? I heard he finished his first two matches in a single stroke."

But the men squinted.

The black-haired man—Clay—looked oddly haggard.

"He looks like he hasn't slept at all, right?"

"Yeah? He really does seem worn out."

Staggering.

Clay climbed onto the arena like a sick chicken.

"And his opponent's Darsha's fighting hound, Sharsin. This won't be a real match at all."

They had looked forward to seeing Clay fight, so they were deeply disappointed.

Sharsin, meanwhile, could barely believe his luck.

'If I take him down, I'll redeem myself for the humiliation on the first day!'

Because Arsabin had been humiliated at the banquet, Darsha's morale was at rock bottom.

But if Sharsin defeated Clay here, things could turn in an instant.

A mid-tier warrior like him taking down a possible great warrior!

'Maybe I'll be the next tribal chief.'

An achievement equal to winning the whole tournament—the reward would be immense.

'This is a match I have to win.'

Clay didn't even look able to stand straight.

Sharsin brimmed with confidence.

Ding!

Just then, the bell signaling the start rang out.

"I'll finish this with one blow!"

Sharsin charged and swung his curved sword.

Clay still hadn't even drawn his blade—he hadn't even reached for the sheath.

There was no way, under these conditions, that he could draw in time.

"One hit—huh?"

Swish!

But Sharsin's curved sword sliced nothing but air.

Clay spun, deftly avoiding the attack.

'There was no sense of magic power at all!'

So he'd moved like that without using any magic?

The moment that thought crossed his mind, a sharp pain exploded in his chin.

"Khuk!"

It took Sharsin a second to realize it was Clay's knee.

His mind went blank from the shock, and as he lost balance, a punch followed.

"Y-you're not even a swordsman... guh!"

He experienced firsthand what it meant to be beaten like a dog.

If Clay had used magic, Sharsin might have been knocked out clean in a few hits, but he hadn't sensed any magic.

'Why?'

Why would he refuse to use magic and just beat him physically?

Did he hate him that much—not even letting him pass out?

In fact, Clay was using magic, but so little it was nearly undetectable.

"I surrender! I give up!"

His face blue and swollen, Sharsin could do nothing but raise the white flag.

He no longer had a single unscathed spot on his body.

"Winner, Clay Vanhart!"

The judge shouted in surprise at the unexpected result, but the coliseum remained silent.

[You seem more talented at punching than with a sword. Why not just switch professions?]

'... Shut up.'

In the heavy silence, Grancesia's voice echoed in Clay's head as he pressed his temples with forefinger and thumb.

'Ridiculous plausibility.'

He'd stayed up all night mastering knowledge he wasn't familiar with, and now he was totally drained.