Another Incident

Noran's barracks were located in the northern part of the city near the North Gate, roughly a ten-minute walk across the threshing floor.

Compared to when they had entered the city yesterday, the atmosphere at the threshing floor was visibly more tense. Many farmers gathered in clusters, shouting and gesturing in agitation. Along the roadside stood a few more conspicuous individuals wearing clothes closer in style to Lynch and his group—likely the stranded travelers Dr. Sven had mentioned. These travelers looked equally irritable, yet they didn't join the farmers' discussions, choosing instead to huddle together and whisper amongst themselves.

“The ghouls are right outside the gates! Doomsday approaches! Struggle is meaningless; life and death are preordained! The Lord says—”

The mad old man's voice rang out right on cue. However, no one stopped to listen; he stood entirely alone atop a grain mound, flailing his arms and screaming at the top of his lungs.

Shaking his head, Lynch withdrew his gaze and kept pace with Dr. Sven until they reached a stone fortress just inside the North Gate. Visually, it gave off a sturdy, imposing impression. A few guards in leather armor stood sentry at the entrance. The moment they saw Dr. Sven approach, they bowed respectfully, asked only a few brief questions regarding her four companions, and promptly let the entire group into the stronghold.

Inside one of the barracks rooms, a corpse lay atop a table, guarded by several nearby soldiers.

A man in metal chainmail—supposedly one of the city lord's knights—was murmuring to Dr. Sven, recounting what had occurred. At Lynch's behest, Judy listened intently to their conversation behind her usual blank daze so they could cross-reference details later.

Meanwhile, Lynch and the two ladies observed the corpse on the table from a short distance away.

All along the way, Lynch had been wondering: just how bizarre could a corpse be? Could it really be more bizarre than the deaths he had witnessed back when he first awakened?

I came from the Fifth Age—what kind of bizarre haven't I seen?

Yet when Lynch and his companions entered the barracks and laid eyes on the soldier Kemitt, Lynch couldn't help questioning something.

Did the people of this era have some kind of misunderstanding about the word “bizarre”?

To the four of them, it was a perfectly ordinary corpse. At most, it was unclothed and had a few extra wounds across its body.

Well... maybe quite a few extra?

“Eight old wounds, with likely more on his back—those should be from the attack yesterday. Fourteen... no, fifteen old abrasions and bruises. Hmm... it seems his comrades dropped him from his horse on the way back yesterday, and more than once. May the Lord forgive him—or rather, forgive them.”

Though it wasn't appropriate for outsiders to walk over and touch the corpse, they could at least observe it directly. Miss Diana stood beside Lynch and Natalie, whispering explanations from a professional perspective.

“Was he actually dropped to death? Just thinking about it makes me cringe,” Lynch said, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Still, there were only eight wounds from the attack? What about the rest?”

“They're fresh.” A look of confusion crossed the young countess's face. Seeming a little uncertain, she nevertheless assessed, “They occurred no more than three hours ago.”

“Hm?” Officer Natalie raised an eyebrow. “Including the two sword wounds on the abdomen, a puncture and two slashes on the neck, and a puncture on the chest?”

Miss Diana solemnly added, “As well as over a dozen lacerations on his limbs and those wounds across his torso.”

“Is that some farewell ritual unique to this era?” Lynch clicked his tongue. “Or is it a local custom of this city, like how certain regions during the Mythological Era chopped up the deceased to feed animals? Or did the soldiers here harbor some deep vendetta against him?”

Natalie glared at him, but Miss Diana earnestly replied, “I don't believe so.”

“Then there's only one explanation.” Lynch's lips felt a bit dry. “He went berserk right before he died. The fresh wounds on his body are what killed him; the soldiers around him fought him for a long time, inflicting dozens of fatal injuries before he finally collapsed. That's even more formidable than my Death Veto.”

“That's more or less what happened.”

While the three of them were murmuring, Dr. Sven had finished her conversation with the knight and walked over. Though she didn't understand the last few terms, she grasped most of what came before and took the initiative to explain:

“They said that late last night, he suddenly ran a high fever and began convulsing. The other soldiers thought it was a normal reaction to his injuries and paid it no mind. But when the silver moon reached the zenith of the night sky—around two to three in the morning—he suddenly woke up. The two soldiers attending to him went to check on him, only to find his eyes bloodshot, drool dripping from his mouth, and low growls constantly rumbling in his throat. Before the soldiers could react, he violently lunged, tore out one soldier's throat with his teeth, and bit another. He chased the surviving soldier all the way here before other guards finally managed to intercept him. At first, the soldiers tried to restrain him, but his strength had grown immense, and he seemed immune to pain. He couldn't be knocked down, and even fatal attacks proved ineffective. He bit several more soldiers before they finally killed him for good. Hm? What's the matter with you all?”

“Nothing.”

In truth, all four had rather stiff expressions, because Dr. Sven's description sounded all too familiar.

The victim's behavior was far too reminiscent of what was currently happening in the mortal world: extreme aggression, biting and clawing at any living thing, tireless, numb to pain, and continuing to move even after sustaining fatal wounds.

Why was what was happening in the outside world also appearing inside here?

Or could it be that the hidden plot behind the historical event—the so-called ghoul transformation ritual—was actually this very disease?

Lynch took a deep breath and tried his best to calm down. He realized it was highly probable. Both were linked to ghouls, both stemmed from Mordiggian's power, so it wouldn't be surprising if they were identical.

“It's just that over the past two years, similar phenomena have appeared in our homeland. Miss Diana has even had close contact with it before and possesses some understanding of the matter.”

“Really?” Dr. Sven called the knight over as well, gave him a few instructions, and then said, “Ordinarily, being killed by ghouls doesn't cause this kind of phenomenon. I've never seen it before. It's fortunate you've encountered it—do you know the specific cause?”

“We're not entirely certain, but it's likely related to the evil god behind the ghouls.”

Diana offered a vague explanation, glancing at Lynch to let him decide how to proceed.

Lynch lowered his head slightly to conceal his flickering gaze. After quickly reviewing everything that had happened since yesterday, he made up his mind.

They needed at least one relatively trustworthy person. Otherwise, with only four days left and strangers in an unfamiliar land, finding and neutralizing whoever was behind this would be nearly impossible. And Dr. Sven, being the only person with an established historical outcome, seemed the most reliable option right now.

Yet if he guessed wrong and she was actually the culprit stirring up trouble, it would truly be asking a tiger for its hide.

Still, startling the snake by beating the grass was sometimes a valid tactic. Gritting his teeth, Lynch called Dr. Sven to the side. The five of them gathered in a huddle, and signaling Judy to translate formally word-for-word, he went all out, speaking vividly:

“I actually have a good idea of the specific cause.”

“Before, my feigned ignorance regarding ghouls was just an act. In truth, I know a great deal about ghouls, but because I didn't know you, I was unwilling to expose myself so easily. However, since this has happened here and you hold significant standing among the people, I won't hide it from you any longer.”

“This incident is very likely man-made. Behind it lurks a cultist—or group of cultists—worshipping an evil god, attempting to transform humans into ghouls. And their target is surely not just Kemitt alone, but everyone in the entire city. I am telling only you this, Doctor. Do not speak of it to anyone; no one else can be trusted.”

Dr. Sven's expression turned tense. “Then what do we do now? Should we ask the city lord to send to the capital for reinforcements?”

“It's too late. At this stage, things are already deep in motion. I estimate their goal will be achieved in three to four days at most. Sending for reinforcements won't be fast enough. Besides, what if the city lord himself is the culprit?” Lynch lowered his voice even further. “We can only rely on ourselves to ferret them out within these few days and destroy—”

As Lynch was speaking, a bloodcurdling scream suddenly echoed from deep within the stronghold.

Trouble had struck again.

The armored knight's expression shifted. Barking a command, he led several uninjured soldiers and rushed out of the barracks.

“I'm going to take a look.”

Dr. Sven remained calmer than the knight. Instructing several wounded soldiers to wait for her return before receiving treatment, she turned to follow. Exchanging nods, the four of them followed empty-handed behind her.

“We can look out for one another if we move together. If we dare venture out for trade, we're not without fighting capabilities.”

Saying this, Lynch shot a glance at Judy. Still wearing her dazed expression, she raised a hand, conjuring a flame that flickered up from her fingertips.

Unlike Miss Diana, who had merely dabbled in a few minor arcane spells, this girl was a bona fide arcanist—and a cultist to boot. Her skill was in no way inferior to Dr. Sven's.

Dr. Sven's face brightened with delight, and she raised no further objections. The five followed closely behind the armored knight out of the barracks. Before they had gone far, the chaotic noise deep within the fortress grew increasingly louder—several voices shouting in unison, accompanied by the clatter of clashing metal.

Moments later, they saw several panicked soldiers escorting a bloody, wounded man running toward them.

The armored knight barked a shout and argued back and forth with the incoming soldiers for a moment before looking at Dr. Sven. The doctor simply waved her hand, said a few quick words, and let them pass.

Only through Judy's translation did the group understand: up ahead, a man named Mag had suddenly gone mad, chasing and biting people just like Kemitt before him, unstoppable by ordinary means. Seeing that the wounded man's injuries were not fatal, the doctor told them to wait in the previous barracks room while she went with the armored knight to handle the situation before treating them.

Letting the injured pass, the armored knight and several soldiers drew their swords, quickening their pace with grim, ashen faces. Lynch noticed that Dr. Sven looked quite shocked as well, so he quietly asked, “Is there something special about Mag?”

The female doctor's face turned solemn. “He was the one whose throat was torn out by Kemitt earlier,” she whispered.

“Huh?”

“Yes. Mag was already bitten to death by Kemitt just a few hours ago, but he stood back up—and turned into the same kind of lunatic as Kemitt.”

For a moment, Lynch's mind fell into a swirl of chaos. This plot was all too familiar to him. Before he could ponder it further, however, the group had already traversed the dark, windowless fortress and arrived at an open-air training ground right in the center of the stronghold.

On the training ground, five or six soldiers were currently encircling a burly man. He looked eerily similar to the lunatics the four had seen back in Rhine City—his expression and movements were practically identical, only far more manic. Even several fully armored soldiers were unable to keep him under control.

“#%@#%!”

The armored knight bellowed as he raised his arming sword. Several soldiers immediately cleared a path, exposing the rabid Mag. Yet just as the armored knight was about to charge, Lynch suddenly grabbed him and shouted, “Tell him not to get close to him, and above all, don't get hurt!”

“Then I'll do it.”

Leaving Judy to translate slowly, the female doctor stepped forward and raised her right hand toward the lunatic. Chanting several enigmatic syllables, she clenched her fist tightly. In the next instant, a giant fist condensed from blinding radiance descended from above, slamming heavily onto the lunatic and carving a shallow crater into the ground along with him.

【Arcana: Fist of Wisdom】

Amidst the gasps of the surrounding soldiers, dust billowed from the crater. Yet a split second later, a figure tore through the dust cloud, charging straight toward Dr. Sven.

That punch should have broken at least seventeen or eighteen bones, yet the madman remained astonishingly swift—so fast that the armored knight at the side failed to react. Dr. Sven froze in momentary shock as she watched the madman rush toward her.

Then, she saw the tall lady who had remained silent all along flash to her side, stomping one foot firmly onto the ground.

【Authority, Protection, Ability, Repulsion】

The charging lunatic was a mere step away from the two women when he crashed headlong into a bursting halo of light. As if struck by a speeding steam locomotive, he was hurled several meters backward, crashing violently onto the ground.

At that moment, Lynch gave the dazed Judy a subtle poke. Judy instantly raised her hand, aiming straight at the lunatic who had just hit the dirt.

【Arcana, Embrace of Fire】

Whoosh! A cone-shaped pillar of fire swept forward in an instant. Soldiers in the vicinity screamed as they patted out stray sparks on their uniforms. As the direct target, the madman had barely hit the ground and had no way to evade; engulfed completely by the flames, he howled and writhed within the blaze, yet he remained alarmingly energetic, still struggling to push himself back up.

Judy's gaze turned ruthless. Her lips moved rapidly, and the fire erupting from her palm abruptly shifted from orange-yellow to incandescent white. A suffocating blast of searing heat washed over the crowd, forcing everyone to stumble back. Within the blaze, the lunatic managed only a single shriek before being instantly incinerated into a charred husk.

Even the stone floor beneath was scorched a faint red.

The entire clash had lasted only a few seconds, yet for the soldiers present, it was utterly breathtaking. Unable to process what had just occurred, they could only look at Lynch and the other three with eyes full of reverence. The armored knight was equally stunned, before an expression of delight broke across his face, his demeanor toward the four turning noticeably deferential.

“Incredible... You're all arcanists after all.” Dr. Sven offered an apologetic smile to Officer Natalie. “I took you for a Stubborn Stone.”

Keep talking and see if she doesn't beat you up, Lynch thought to himself. Meanwhile, Dr. Sven turned toward him. “What did you mean earlier? Why shouldn't he get close?”

The other three ladies looked equally puzzled. Only Lynch wore a grim expression; this storyline was all too familiar to him, having seen it countless times in his past life. “I suspect this man rising from the dead and going mad happened because he was infected after Kemitt bit him. What's more, I suspect anyone who was bitten might become infected as well.”

As Dr. Sven translated his words, everyone exchanged bewildered glances and shook their heads. Such a bizarre, fantastical claim was difficult to accept on the spot.

“That can't be... I've never heard of anything like that,” Dr. Sven said in a dry voice. “Could you be overthinking it? Was this just a fluke?”

Yet not everyone doubted Lynch's judgment. Miss Diana suddenly recalled something, her face draining of color. “If that's true... then the wounded back in the barracks, and the one who was just escorted there... aren't they—?”