Dr. Sven

The two sides continued chatting well into the midnight hours.

Dr. Sven revealed quite a bit about herself.

The mad old man had been right: she was indeed a ghoul, albeit a half-blood.

Her mother had been an ordinary human peasant woman who, fifty years ago, gave birth to Dr. Sven and her younger brother with her father, Old Sven. Ghouls had a lifespan of two hundred years, which was why her human form looked to be only around thirty years old.

She had indeed seen the Necronomicon. Having read just five pages, she had learned over a dozen bizarre arcana. As for why she hadn't lost her mind, it was likely because mystical creatures possessed a naturally far higher tolerance than ordinary humans. Even so, she hadn't dared to keep reading.

Still, she didn't mind revealing its whereabouts to Lynch and his companions; she had no intention of ever touching it again anyway.

As for ending her travels and returning home, it wasn't to look after her father. In truth, her father was only a hundred and thirty years old—he had barely entered old age and was nowhere near needing someone to care for him.

It was mainly because her younger brother had died two years ago. It had been a genuine accident, completely devoid of suspicious circumstances and requiring no action on her part. The problem, however, was that Old Sven was the priest of their tribe, and her younger brother had been groomed to be the next priest. With the successor dead, she had no choice but to return and shoulder the responsibility.

Old Sven had poured years of effort into her late brother, so the loss hit him hard. His temper had grown increasingly erratic; he rarely left the farm these days and treated Dr. Sven harshly. Heartbroken, she lived in the city most of the time, only venturing back to the farm outside town once in a while to check on the old ghoul, only to return after receiving an earful of scolding.

It turned out that even ghouls had domestic strife and father-daughter conflicts. The four listened with keen interest; had Lynch not considered the possibility that they might not beat her once she transformed, he likely would have burst out laughing on the spot.

As for the four of them, Lynch didn't dare tell the unvarnished truth. After all, the reality was far too outrageous—perhaps only people who meddled with time like the mad old man could accept it without batting an eye.

Yet now that their relationship had drawn considerably closer, Lynch didn't have the heart to deceive her completely. He told her that aside from discussing the Necronomicon, they were here to plant human-faced fruit, as the yield here was rumored to be better than in Middle Earth.

Dr. Sven's response, however, made all four of their faces turn pale.

She remarked that it made sense now—she had been wondering why several human-faced fruit plants had suddenly cropped up near her house, suspecting they were part of the mastermind's sinister plot, and had even planned to search the city tomorrow to uproot every single one of them.

Only then did Lynch realize he had truly underestimated the memory world inside the mystery relic. The people here weren't like NPCs who remained indifferent no matter what you did. Fortunately, they had brought it up; otherwise, this entire trip would have been in vain.

Still, after an evening of candid conversation, the distance between them had closed significantly, and the four felt much warmer toward the female doctor.

As for Sven Farm and Old Sven, Lynch didn't really care. Restricted to a two-hundred-meter radius of activity, they couldn't possibly visit Sven Farm or meet Old Sven beforehand anyway. By the time he made his entrance, everything would already be over. To the four of them, he was only slightly better than a mere background prop like the deceased little Sven.

Yet judging from how the mystery relic had come into being, the old ghoul had likely been riddled with guilt toward his daughter. Unfortunately, fate never offered anyone a second chance for regret.

As for what happened earlier today, Lynch had guessed correctly. Of the two ghouls they had encountered outside the East Gate at dusk, one had indeed been Dr. Sven, and the other was a representative of the ghoul tribe.

This tribe numbered four to five hundred, living in a nearby underground karst cave. They never actively attacked humans, at most paying their respects to the ancestors... or rather, the corpses of the ancestors... of the nearby townsfolk.

Consequently, both sides had coexisted in peace. Only recently—whether by coincidence or design—ghouls venturing outside had been frequently spotted by humans, sparking the chain of events lurking in the shadows.

The purpose of their meeting today had been just as Lynch suspected: after understanding the plague's characteristics, Dr. Sven had no confidence that she could find a solution before the situation spiraled out of control. And once it did and the contagion spread, the ghoul tribe would face total annihilation as well.

Therefore, preparing for the worst, she had shared the city's full situation with her kin, warning them to be ready to purge the entire city.

At the same time, she had asked her tribe to help deliver a letter to the capital. This time, it wasn't a plea for help; instead, speaking in the name of the ghouls, it notified them of everything that was about to unfold here, advising the capital's troops to prepare accordingly.

The more the four listened, the more alarmed they grew.

She didn't specify what preparations the troops were to make, but it wasn't hard to guess.

Everything fell into place. No wonder the ghouls had blockaded the city outside for three whole days before commencing the slaughter; they had likely been giving Dr. Sven time to resolve the crisis. Yet in the end, she had failed, and the situation had hurtled toward its most tragic conclusion.

Moreover, the reinforcements had arrived just as the ghouls departed, neither side raising a single claw or blade against each other. The so-called reinforcements had probably arrived with orders to conduct a secondary sweep—if the ghouls didn't finish the job cleanly enough, they would ensure no survivors were left behind.

As for the ultimate fate of Noran, it had long since faded into the dust of history. But the four estimated that it had most likely been torched to the ground, reduced to ashes as if it had never existed.

Yet this time might be different. Thanks to the two messengers, Dr. Sven had realized the danger two days early and had taken the initiative to use Knight Terry to contain the plague's initial spread.

Furthermore, she had gained four friends willing to assist her; she was no longer fighting alone.

Even the female doctor chatted animatedly without pause, effectively giving Lynch the comprehensive lesson that Mrs. Nightingale had skipped over.

The three elements of an occult plague—anyone familiar with pestilence would know them well.

Disease, replication, and transmission.

Among them, the core element was the disease, which was why Dr. Sven insisted they had to find the ghoul involved in this affair.

To discover a cure, that specific ghoul had to be found.

Dead or alive, corpse or no corpse, it didn't matter. They didn't even need physical contact with the target; knowing their identity alone would allow one to conceptually extract targeted information. Of course, physical contact was preferable, as it would make the concept much clearer.

Corresponding to the real-world plague back in the Fifth Age, this core element actually didn't need to be searched for.

It wasn't Mordiggian, the King of Ghouls. Lynch had initially assumed it was, but when he had asked Mrs. Nightingale back then, the old woman had simply smiled and held up a mirror in front of him.

The person in the reflection looked awfully familiar.

Yes, the core element was not Mordiggian, but Lynch himself—which was precisely why the four of them had risked entering this place to plant the seeds.

However, the core element was merely the prerequisite for a cure. To form a truly sufficient condition, the methods of replication and transmission also had to be identified before a targeted solution could be devised.

In the case of the plague within this mystery relic, those two conditions were induced by occult concoctions. Such concoctions were by no means unique, and the knowledge of which specific formulas were used rested solely in the hands of the mastermind.

Finding the mastermind was not the crucial part; finding the information they concealed was. But providing the identity of a suspect was already an impressive feat for Lynch's group, and the rest was simply beyond what they could assist with.

At least in theory.

Dr. Sven understood this as well. Thus, after a night of deliberation, it was decided that the remaining tasks would fall primarily upon her shoulders. Starting tomorrow, she would find a way to sound out the city lord's stance. If he truly was the mastermind behind the scenes, she would attempt to pry the methods of transmission and replication from him.

As for the ghoul acting as the core element, there were no good leads yet. What was certain, however, was that it was still inside the city. Both sides would work together to ferret it out.

While Knight Terry's true allegiance remained uncertain, he had his own duty: patrolling the city constantly to nip any anomalies in the bud as much as possible.

With everyone fulfilling their respective roles, they were racing against both the mastermind and the plague.

Whether they could interrupt the mystery relic's memory in time and make it out alive would hinge entirely on the events of the third day.