Chapter 152: The Land Where the Plague Spreads

Wade joined Mien’s team, and the carriage loaded with boxes of medicinal herbs set off.  

He was assigned a docile gelding as his mount. A gelding is a castrated stallion; to ensure orderliness among warhorses, the military castrates most of them. Only a few stallions meant specifically for breeding are allowed to keep their reproductive capabilities.  

Mien specially gave Wade a gentle-tempered plateau horse. Wade skillfully handled the reddish-furred plateau horse. Over the past year, he had spent his spare time learning horsemanship.  

At places that offered horse rentals, he sometimes rode horses to move forward.  

Although having Mia control the bone horse was more convenient and faster, it was impossible for him to ride an undead horse around towns and trade routes within human kingdoms.  

“Sir, no matter how much you know about this area, there are some things I must explain to you first.”  

Mien pulled the reins, making the horse advance at a slow trot.  

“The plague that broke out in the Hewitt territory has already lasted for three months. Three months ago, people in a small village began showing symptoms like fever and vomiting. The local priest believed it to be some kind of plague and provided superficial treatment to the sick villagers, but it had no effect. Within a month, the fever had almost spread throughout the entire Hewitt territory.”  

“The elderly and children generally deteriorate rapidly within half a month of developing fever. Many people have died, and many villages have become ghost towns.”  

“The king ordered the Hewitt territory to be sealed off to save more of his subjects.”  

“Remember, our task is only to deliver the medicinal herbs to the camp. There is an apothecary invited from Saint Peter’s City stationed at the camp. The apothecary needs these herbs to prepare effective healing potions.”  

“I mean, anything beyond transporting the herbs is not our concern.”  

“Please do not come into contact with the infected. We must keep our distance from them, and absolutely no drinking of water or eating food from Hewitt territory is allowed. The carriage carries clean water and dry provisions. If you run out of food, come find me; I will allocate rations to you.”  

“Furthermore, while traveling through Hewitt territory, you must keep your mouth and nose covered at all times to avoid infection risks.”  

“I believe this won’t be difficult for you. Just wear your mask as usual.”  

“Our journey will take about three days. We will stop in the wilderness outside Helburg, but there will be no rest breaks along the way. Endure any fatigue until we reach the camp; only then can we sleep.”  

Wade nodded. He didn’t really need to sleep anyway.  

He calculated in his mind: three days to reach the outskirts of Helburg, leaving him about six days to search within Helburg itself.  

Time was relatively ample.  

However… the closer he got to his own graveyard, the more confused he felt.  

He was almost at his destination. After seeing his graveyard, what was he supposed to do next?  

Could he really find anything useful?  

Or even if he found something, how should he face it?  

After reaching the end of this journey, how should he continue living?  

Continue traveling as the “Iron Mask”?  

Or try every method to find traces of Yulia and Toven?  

In less than a year, I have roughly grasped the rules of the wasteland. The excavation of the ruins on the ground has also been quite thorough. I am almost certain this place is not the old homeland of the Silver Moon Elves.  

It seems I have no necessary reason to search for these things anymore. I still have not gotten used to life as a skeleton.  

Even if I found out why I became a skeleton, what would it matter? Could it really bring me back to life as a human again?  

Only the legendary goddess of creation might be capable of such a thing.  

The war in the north is probably nearing its end.  

According to last month’s battle reports, the allied forces should be launching a counterattack on Iceland. The church and allied nations have joined forces; even the Ice King, who sides with the demons, is about to be defeated.  

Things are progressing in a favorable direction, but inside, Wade felt uneasy.  

That unease came from the land beneath his feet.  

The convoy moved along Nidran’s roads. After Mien greeted the checkpoint soldiers, they finally entered the sealed zone.  

Before dawn, they passed through an empty village.  

The convoy deliberately avoided it from afar; their route did not pass through any villages because those villages were full of the infected.  

In that village, Wade did not even see a single living person’s flame.  

Just as Mien said, many villages had become ghost towns.  

For three days, they pressed on without stopping toward the camp outside Helburg.  

Wade saw corpses carelessly abandoned on the ground, simply covered with straw mats.  

The air was thick with a strong stench of decay. Some people with sallow faces, pale lips, and constant coughing lay beside corpses.  

“Sir… cough cough… Sir… please… cough cough… save me…”  

Such cries for help echoed from every village they passed.  

Even though the convoy detoured, people still saw them.  

Those people, clutching at the last straw of life, knelt on the ground, kowtowing and weeping, begging the “Sirs” to save them.  

In Wade’s memories, the Hewitt territory near Opal should have been a much more peaceful sight.  

Golden wheat fields, turning windmills and mills—on this fertile land, although monsters appeared, many adventurers were active throughout.  

This was originally a land full of vitality. The sky was just as blue as Wade remembered, but he no longer felt the relaxation he once felt when admiring that blue sky.  

His heart was heavy and dull. Mien, leading the team, merely ordered everyone to quicken their pace and leave swiftly.  

Those thin, sickly patients could never catch up with the carriage.  

They were powerless against the infected.  

Wade was equally powerless. He only had a little rough knowledge about plagues like the plague. He roughly knew that effective treatment required products secreted by certain molds.  

His medical knowledge was limited to bandaging.  

As for the healing magic in this world, it was quite effective on external injuries like sword wounds and bruises. The highest-level healing spells were said to even regrow severed limbs. But when it came to poisoning or plague, healing spells were almost useless; antidotes and potions made by apothecaries were needed.  

He knew he could not save the infected, but looking at those emaciated faces, he sighed silently in his heart.  

He liked this world but hated the sight before him.