Regressor of the Fallen Family

Chapter 248

The case where the plague was quickly suppressed just by burning the bodies and taking some measures.

Surely, in a past life, there had been such an incident.

“Damn. If only I had paid more attention back then, I might have remembered another method.”

But it couldn’t be helped.

The story was too distant from the regions where Logan was active, and he thought it was irrelevant to Grandia, so he didn’t give it much heed.

“At least I’m fortunate to remember this much.”

Therefore, there was only one path he could choose.

“Your reasoning is convincing. Fine. Burn all the bodies of those who died of the plague.”

While cremation was a funeral practice in the wider continent, in the kingdom, burial was the most common method unless there was a special reason.

“There may be some resistance.”

“Accept it and carry it out. It’s to stop the plague.”

“…Yes.”

“Also, when burning the bodies, burn the deceased’s personal belongings as well. If we say it’s to honor the dead rather than an insult, the resistance will lessen.”

Upon these further instructions, Gilbert’s eyes widened.

When the emergency meeting in the barracks ended and people from the relief team returned to their positions, Gilbert cautiously asked Logan.

“Have you heard such a thing before?”

“Hmm? What do you mean?”

“Well, I was going to suggest burning the belongings of the deceased, but you mentioned it first.”

“…Is that also because of this germ?”

“Yes. This germ is something invisible to human eyes….”

“Ah, explanation is enough. Are you saying that the orders I’ve given will help suppress the plague?”

“Yes.”

“That’s sufficient then. But, is there any other measure besides burning the bodies? It seems like the priests will reach their limit soon, and if this continues, deaths will start occurring.”

“I’m sorry. We will do our best to develop a cure quickly.”

“Medicine. Medicine, huh…”

As priestly healing was quite expensive, commoners mostly relied on herbs and folk remedies. And the group that compiled these methods to research and deduce the effective ones was known as the Healer’s Guild.

Their name became familiar to the public in the current times, and in about 20 years, they would be recognized as trustworthy.

The people’s hope of not having to rely solely on the priests supported them.

However, many still considered them nothing more than charlatans imitating priests.

‘What if I support them now?’

Though the thought crossed his mind, a skeptical conclusion came quickly.

He had neither the capability nor certainty of the effect right now.

Shaking his head to rid himself of such ideas, Gilbert’s response became even sterner.

“We will certainly develop an effective medicine. Please trust us.”

“Ah, yes. Do your best. And if you need support, let me know. I’ll provide it.”

“Ah… Th-thank you.”

Gilbert flinched at the formal response.

“…Is there anything you need right away? If so, speak. I’m prepared to do whatever it takes to quickly suppress the plague. I’ll greatly commend any help.”

“…Then, might I have access to the temple’s records?”

“What?”

“I wish to examine the records about the plague 70 years ago in Restabum. Comparing the current situation with our guild’s records might accelerate the development of the cure.”

Gilbert, recalling his own attitude towards the priests, was quite cautious in making this request.

After a moment of silence, Logan spoke.

“…Discuss it with Bishop Illya.”

“Th-thank you!”

‘Bishop Illya and I were at odds.’

Even for someone with a thick skin, it was a bit shameful, but despite this, Logan still sought the bishop for assistance.

However.

“If it’s about the plague, there’s plenty of detailed information available. The records should be thorough.”

Bishop Illya’s response was much more proactive than expected.

“…Thank you. Do you need any other support?”

“I was going to request additional assistance from the temple anyway. Might as well ask for the records at the same time.”

“Even if you ask, would they listen? Seems like they’ve already invested too much.”

Investment.

At that skeptical choice of words, Illya chuckled bitterly.

“Still, the situation is urgent. We must squeeze out whatever means the temple has to end this plague as soon as possible.”

Logan’s opinion of the surprisingly admirable and enthusiastic bishop grew, and he wanted to trust him a bit more.

‘I doubt further support will come.’

Of course, Logan was pessimistic about this thought.

The dead from the plague were now being re-excavated and cremated on the order of the relief team, and the backlash was not as fierce as expected.

The serfs didn’t have the strength to object to orders given by the priest and the king, having suffered consecutive calamities.

Moreover.

“…Has God abandoned us?”

“Absolutely not. It’s so that you become a guardian spirit to protect your remaining family. It’s to save everyone here.”

When Bishop Illya of the highest status in the relief team comforted a sobbing wife about to burn her deceased husband’s body, who also showed symptoms of the plague, any slight resistance faded away completely.

“Such a noble person… caring for lowly us….”

“…Let’s all keep our spirits up.”

Partly due to their own will and partly because others were forced, the priests energetically treating the diseased gained the trust of the serfs.

There were other pieces of good news as well.

“Lathe grass shows effectiveness, Mr. Gilbert!”

“What a relief, thank goodness!”

Day and night, the healers who had been examining patients and gathering herbs also achieved a minor success.

“A fever reducer?”

“Yes. For now, it only slightly eases the symptoms of the plague, but there’s definitely an effect.”

“Good. Continue the hard work.”

“Yes, Your Highness!”

By burning the bodies and their possessions, they prevented the ‘germ’ mentioned by the Healer’s Guild from spreading, and finding an effective fever reducer began to show improvement in the more severe cases. The efforts of the relief team were finally starting to bear fruit.

As a result, the number of deaths decreased, and the number of recoveries gradually began to climb. It was at this point that Logan let out a small sigh of relief.

Then Illya reported with a grave voice.

“The plague is much more toxic than we thought.”

“What do you mean?”

“The recovery through divine power is slower compared to any other plague recorded in the temple. Plus, a patient I thought was completely cured yesterday showed symptoms again.”

At Illya’s pale-faced statement, Logan’s expression darkened.

“I’ll urge the temple for more support. It’s too difficult as it stands.”

Bishop Illya bit her lip, making the proposition, but as Logan had anticipated, three days later, the temple sent only the records of the past Restabum – nothing more.

“We are too occupied with relief activities in the areas we oversee to have any spare capacity.”

The envoy who brought the records made such an excuse, but no one among the priests believed it.

“Ah! The most critical area is right here! What relief activities are they talking about!”

Fabian yelled, his face gaunt.

Continued healing, fasting, and prayers had whittled the once overweight chubby priest back to almost normal weight over the course of a week.

“Send support immediately!”

Despite his insane raving and clutching at a low-ranking emissary priest, it was evident that his mind had deteriorated as much as his body.

“The plague is spreading further! What in the world is the higher-ups doing?”

If one looked only at his actions and words, he seemed like a true priest full of concern for the people.

Of course, no desired response came from such actions.

“They say… since no new deaths have occurred, isn’t it being controlled…?”

“Nonsense! At this rate, I’ll die before the patients do! Tell them to send more support now!”

As Fabian vented his frustration on the unfortunate lower-ranking priest envoy, Gilbert quickly gathered the temple’s documents and rushed to his colleagues. Pale-faced Bishop Illya bit her lip and turned away from the priests’ ugliness.

Days went by where the priests were becoming increasingly exhausted, but the precarious balance was sustained.

On the third day after the relief team’s arrival to Laphan, and ten days from the beginning, the delicate balance was shattered in an unexpected manner.

“Yo-Your Highness. Additional patients with the plague have been discovered in other villages of Laphan. Near six other sealed villages!”

“What?! Wasn’t the seal properly placed?!”

“The thing is… before our arrival, it seems there were people who had visited the infected villages. And most of them did not report their symptoms until it was too late….”

“Damn that cursed misfortune!”

On the tenth day after the relief team’s arrival, new deaths from the plague emerged, and the congregation of patients began to grow exponentially.

Fortunately, the threats Logan had issued when they arrived seemed to have worked well, as support soon came from the nearby nobles.

The sound of wagons and the whinnying of horses.

Dozens of wagons filled with grain, followed by a group of knights and hundreds of soldiers, along with a banner with an unfamiliar flower pattern, approached. As perplexed glances surrounded them, a middle-aged knight stepped forward with a respectful bow.

“From the Count of Kelomman, Your Highness. Following your orders, we bring support in the form of food and soldiers.”

“…Well met.”

Support had come from the Count of Kelomman, the first noble to conflict with Logan.

“From the Baron of Genchis…”

“And the Baron of Perona claims they will arrive soon!”

Support had been dispatched from two other regions soon after, not as large as Kelomman’s but substantial enough to notice.

The support from the three families alone was massive enough to feed the villagers and relief team for at least three months without worrying about food.

‘They had this much spare while they were planning to massacre us.’

Logan felt both displeased and distrustful towards the nobility, but he didn’t make the mistake of showing it.

As the number of infected regions increased from twelve to eighteen villages, Laphan and the relief team, already strained by the blockade, received breaths of relief from the nobles’ support like rain during a drought.

But then.

Three days later, as a breath of life was injected into the relief team, an event spread despair across everyone’s faces.

“Healers have started showing symptoms of the plague!”

Within the relief team, which had been working hard to stop the outbreak, individuals began to contract the disease.

“Some of the soldiers guarding the perimeter have fallen ill. Their symptoms match those of the patients.”

Soldiers who had been managing the entry and exit of the villages had also begun to show signs of infection.

“It’s the end, isn’t it.”

“How could such a tragedy befall us…”

“What on earth is the temple doing?”

Even the voices of the relief team’s knights and priests began to lament.

As Logan received this grave update, he turned grim.

“The recovered?”

“Excluding those who relapsed, there are about 120 left.”

“And the infected?”

“…From the initial reported count of 321, the number has steadily grown to over 600.”

At such a disheartening report, Logan sighed deeply and clasped his head.

‘It can’t be helped.’

He had to squeeze out whatever was left and request more temple support, at least double what they had now.

‘…Can we withstand it?’

Whether the royal treasury, the military, could endure it.

He exhaled a heavy sigh, feeling the weight of the situation, but there was no choice. Leaving the plague unabated risked crippling damage to the empire even before the war.

How had things gotten so twisted?

Logan sighed and moved towards the telecommunication device.

But just then.

“Your Highness! We’ve found revolutionary information!”

Gilbert ran towards him, screaming as if in agony.