XX Crisis

When the words first left his mouth, there was no reaction. A few seconds later, however, as Judy translated them, the atmosphere suddenly plummeted into dead silence.

In particular, those who had previously doubted him no longer looked quite so confident.

Lynch's claim sounded fantastical, but what if?

Going by the timeline, only a few minutes after Mag was bitten, other soldiers had suffered bites as well. If this foreigner's conjecture proved true, didn't that mean some of the wounded were about to go mad any second?

Those wounded were all located near the fortress entrance. If the madmen broke out and ran outside, the citizens out there...

The armored knight and Dr. Sven dared not think any further. Springing into motion, they sprinted back the way they came. Lynch signaled the others to follow, shouting from behind, “Remember, whatever you do, do not get scratched or bitten!”

Neighbor bless me, I hope my guess doesn't come true.

Leading the other three right behind them, Lynch silently prayed to his neighbor over and over. However, a soft sigh echoing in his consciousness caused his heart to sink.

“Mick, what's wrong with you?”

“William! William stopped breathing!”

“What happened? Why are they dead? Where's the healer? Quickly, go fetch Ms. Sven!”

Before they even reached the barracks where the wounded were housed, a chaotic uproar drifted from that direction. The cacophony of frantic shouts sent everyone's hearts sinking straight to rock bottom, chilling them to the bone.

The foreigner was right—something truly had happened to the bitten soldiers.

“Stay away from the dead! Clear out!”

Though Lynch couldn't understand the language, he could guess what had occurred and instinctively shouted out. Yet aside from Dr. Sven, no one understood his cries, and before Dr. Sven or Judy could translate, a cheer erupted from inside the barracks.

“He's awake! Hurry and get up—don't play dead at a time like this, it isn't funny!”

“What is it, Mick? What are you doing? Stop!”

“Aaaagh—!”

Not daring to delay for a second, the armored knight unslung the small leather shield from his back, held it before him, and charged into the barracks like a raging bull. Knowing the truth of the situation, the several soldiers accompanying him also snatched up miscellaneous items from the roadside for defense and charged in behind their commander.

When Lynch's group of four and Dr. Sven rushed in after them, they saw the other soldiers already scrambling back. The armored knight bashed a crazed soldier to the ground with his shield and then, without hesitation, thrust his sword through another soldier's heart.

Yet the pierced soldier felt nothing. Roaring, he continued forward, flailing both hands as his fingernails clawed against the armored knight. Fortunately, the knight was wearing chainmail, and the fingernails couldn't penetrate it at all.

Having already witnessed the immense vitality of these madmen, and seeing the run-through soldier still trying to bite him, the armored knight kicked him over with bloodshot eyes. But the soldier previously knocked down by the shield had already crawled over and clamped his teeth onto the knight's ankle.

The leather boots proved their worth.

Human teeth couldn't pierce the thick cowhide, but it gave the armored knight a cold sweat nonetheless. The madman on the ground had already seized his ankle; the knight shook his leg violently, trying to kick him off, but to no avail. In the end, he swung his sword downward, severing one of the madman's hands to finally break free.

Yet the madman he had kicked away earlier hadn't stopped either; he lunged straight toward his former comrades who had backed away. These rural soldiers had never seen such a terrifying scene and had lost all capacity for reason, instinctively crying out in panic as they scrambled in every direction. Fortunately, a soldier who had followed the armored knight swung a nearby chair, pinning the madman to the floor. Even so, the madman continued to struggle violently, his guttural roars leaving the soldiers weak-limbed and pale with fright.

“The head! Destroy the head!”

Having followed them inside, Lynch immediately shared his wealth of experience. The surrounding soldiers hesitated, but the armored knight no longer doubted him in the least. He slashed his sword toward the one-handed soldier; with tremendous force, the blade severed the neck in a single blow, sending the head spinning through the air.

The body that had possessed boundless strength just moments before seemed drained of all vitality the instant it was decapitated. It collapsed on the spot, its limbs twitching slightly before falling completely still.

It really worked.

Yet just as delight surfaced on the armored knight's face, he saw the rolling head's eyes still wide open, its teeth snapping as it tried to bite anything in reach. Only when a nearby soldier rushed forward and smashed the head to pieces with a hammer did the rabid head finally quiet down.

Recalling that the first casualty, Kemitt, had also died completely only after the back of his head was smashed in, the armored knight barked orders to his men. Now that they knew the method, handling it was straightforward; soon, the other crazed soldier was thoroughly silenced as well. The manic roars finally ceased, plunging the barracks into dead silence.

A moment later, a collective, long exhalation broke out among the remaining soldiers. It hadn't been a drawn-out battle, yet it left these professional soldiers weak in the limbs, several collapsing directly onto the floor.

Expressions of relief finally appeared on the soldiers' faces, but neither the armored knight nor Dr. Sven shared that relief—and Lynch even less so. He knew all too well that the tragedy had only just begun.

Sixteen soldiers remained here, plus one lying down who hadn't gotten up, making seventeen in total. Among them, six were visibly injured. Judging by what had just occurred, all six would gradually go mad.

Evidently, it wasn't just the armored knight and Dr. Sven who realized this. The five soldiers who had followed them earlier quickly caught on as well; under the astonished gazes of their comrades, they backed far away from the wounded men, the most agitated among them even raising their weapons.

“They'll go mad soon too!” a soldier shouted loudly. “Everyone who was bitten or scratched is going to turn into one of them!”

Before his voice faded, an uproar erupted in the barracks. The other uninjured soldiers rapidly backed away from their wounded comrades, drawing their weapons once more.

“We're not crazy!”

Unwilling to accept a death sentence, several wounded men also drew their swords and grouped together back-to-back. In an instant, the barracks' atmosphere became a lit powder keg on the verge of exploding.

Seeing Dr. Sven and the armored knight instinctively cast pleading looks toward him, Lynch sighed. In an era without firearms, this kind of plague was extraordinarily dangerous; once it spread, controlling it would become utterly impossible.

Surmising that this was likely a crucial step in preventing the entire city from turning into ghouls, he had no choice but to play the villain and whisper a suggestion into Dr. Sven's ear:

“Their fears are justified. In my experience, these men truly will go mad one after another.”

Through the doctor, the armored knight asked, “Then what should we do?”

“The safest approach is to dispose of them before they go mad, but that's too ruthless—hardly anyone could stomach it,” Lynch said with a wry smile. “So the only option is to find a few sturdy barracks rooms and lock them up individually. That way, even if they do turn rabid, we won't need to kill them immediately, and perhaps Dr. Sven or someone else can find a cure later.”

Hesitating briefly, Lynch nonetheless added, “Though I wouldn't recommend doing that, because in my experience, the probability of disaster striking in the end is a hundred percent. So...”

Lynch didn't finish the sentence, while Dr. Sven closed her eyes, nodded, and let out a deep sigh.

“There's more,” Lynch lowered his voice even further. “Watch the others.”

“What do you mean?”

“Watch those who appear normal. They don't want to die either. Now that those clever soldiers shouted it out, someone with an inconspicuous injury might conceal their wound, only to suddenly turn later. There's precedent for that too.”

Having said all this, Lynch shook his head. Knowing that given their status as outsiders, it was inappropriate to linger and watch them handle internal affairs, he took the initiative to say:

“We'll head to the threshing floor first to talk with the citizens and travelers. Once you've resolved things here, you can find us over there.”

With a solemn expression, he then left the barracks and walked out of the fortress.

Seeing his tense expression, Officer Natalie frowned, catching up to him and asking, “Are you worried about these people from the memories? Lynch, get a grip. They've been dead for thousands of years; worrying about them is pointless.”

Lynch slowed his pace, however, giving a wry sigh. “I have no interest in worrying about them. What I'm worried about is us.”

“Hm?”