Chapter 954: Cirilla! Come Help Collect the Gold! |
"The Plague Maiden? Has she arrived?"
Garrett's first reaction was to go home and gather reinforcements. He would summon a few from the School of Sculpting, including the teachers, and bombard the Plague Maiden relentlessly to disinfect her thoroughly. He'd call upon the Necromancy School, including the immortals, to dissect and cut up the Plague Maiden, using the essence to enhance their power while the plague branch would be delighted to receive additional materials.
However, considering the distance from the westernmost part of the New World Plain to the easternmost, and then crossing the ocean to reach the Kingdom of Kent, he decided to pack up these thoughts obediently—this round trip would take at least three months. Even if Bernard or Baronessimo took his badge and used the mage tower's communication line to send a message across the sea, it would be costly and dependent on whether they were willing to do him this favor—it would take at least two months!
"Sigh, when will electromagnetic communication be developed... when will the airships speed up? In my previous life, planes could fly from London to Los Angeles in just 12 hours..."
And the Plague Maiden? When would she arrive?
"She is coming, she is coming..." The White Horn King Bull stomped the ground, mooing repeatedly, causing the ground to shake in waves. Garrett had to float slightly off the ground, listening to its repetitive message:
"She is coming... she is very close... the children can reach her in a day's run..."
That was quite close. Garrett recalled his experience today being carried by two magic bulls, running at full speed.
The Plague Maiden, being called a deity, shouldn't be slower than a magic bull, right? This meant the crisis was imminent—
"Very strong! Very strong! Very strong!" The White Horn King anxiously paced:
"Just one blow! Just one breath! My children! My descendants! They just fell! They fell in droves! Sickened, died—even after she left, her power lingered for a long time—"
Garrett couldn't make sense of it. He stood on a floating disc to be eye level with the White Horn King, activating his communication ability as a priest of the God of Nature. He extended his right hand to touch its brow:
"Tell me what happened, show me what you saw..."
A torrent of information rushed into his mind. Garrett's legs buckled, and he quickly closed his eyes, emptying his mind—acting as a passive conduit, channeling all the information into his meditation core for later review.
In the White Horn King's memory, the Plague Maiden roared in. As described by the high shamans, she appeared as a black mass, thin and cloaked in fluctuating black mist, with ragged edges constantly emitting black fog.
If Garrett were to describe her, she actually resembled a Dementor...
And facing this "Dementor," hundreds of wild bulls charged with heads lowered and horns poised. Having spent a day among the herd, Garrett could tell from their horn shapes and sizes that these were all male bulls.
The front line consisted of the strongest adult bulls, followed by young bulls. Their horns glowed with a faint blue-black light, forming an invisible armor.
These bulls, heads lowered, charged with the largest bull leading the vanguard. The black fog surrounding the "Dementor" extended over a hundred meters, but the bulls broke through, creating a bright path straight to the Plague Maiden's core—
Then, Garrett saw the Dementor-like Plague Maiden bend down, not sucking in forcefully but blowing outwards. A thick black mist enveloped the entire herd, covering them from all directions.
The strongest bulls in the front continued to charge forward against the black mist; the young bulls behind, however, soon faltered, their legs weakening. Yellowish, bloody foam bubbled from their mouths and noses, their eyes turned red, and their bodies trembled...
"Bacteria entered their bodies, reproducing rapidly, similar to the principle of the Plague Spell," Garrett thought as he reviewed the White Horn King's memory repeatedly.
"There are two solutions: attack or defend. Defend by treating each sick bull individually—if I isolate and treat them quickly enough, she can't harm me."
"Attack by eliminating the source of the infection... whether bacteria or viruses, even anthrax, fears high heat, acid, alkali... of course, how to attack efficiently is a problem that needs multiple attempts..."
"Honorable Plague Lord..." The deep voice boomed again. The White Horn King bowed its head respectfully, pleading for help:
"Please help me protect my children, protect my tribe... every time the Plague Maiden attacks, she grows stronger, my children are struggling to hold on..."
She, no, it, grows stronger with each attack?
What is the source of its power?
Garrett racked his brain. Deities, even demigods, totem gods, derive their power differently from mages, knights, and magical beasts. The latter's power comes from within, while the former's often comes from external sources—
From faith and offerings, or from fear and dread. Gods like the Red Hawk God, the Wild Bull God, or the River God of the Great River Tribe mostly derive power from the former, while the Plague Maiden...
"The Plague Maiden's power isn't invincible." Garrett floated over on the disc, trying to grab the White Horn King... but only managed to grasp a handful of bull hair.
"Yesterday's injection worked well. Today we'll continue—the production line has manufactured a lot of medicine, I'll prepare the doses and have them administered to your children. With enough injections, we can suppress the disease!"
A production line working at full capacity can produce how many doses in a day?
Even with Garrett's rudimentary setup, half of which required manual labor, they managed nearly two thousand doses of streptomycin. For the bulls, not humans.
...and as a result, Garrett ran out of syringes.
"I need syringes! I need glass bottles!" Garrett tossed a gold coin into the air, watching it spin and fall:
"Time is money, my friend!"
"Uh... I need gold coins..."
"Gold coins?" The White Horn King had been watching, seeing the little demon appear with a puff of blue smoke, the gold coin disappearing into its body, and glass, metal, and rubber quickly assembling into syringes and bottles:
"Honorable Plague Lord, you need those shiny, yellow, patterned metal pieces? Although we don't have many of those, we do have plenty of the yellow metal..."
With a few low moos, several bulls walked away, lowered their heads, and began to dig. After a few tries, they unearthed a large stone, flipping it over with their horns...
"Wow..."
Garrett gasped softly.
Beneath the stone, in a large pit, lay twisted gold crowns, smashed gold bowls and plates, cracked gold cups, and a variety of distorted jewelry.
Some might have been bracelets, others parts of necklaces, and some may have been inlaid on sword hilts, scabbards, or belts...
In short, in that pit as large as a wild bull, amidst scattered bones and skeletons, lay countless pieces of gold.
"These were all enemies! All enemies!" The White Horn King stomped the ground forcefully, causing a landslide that buried some skeletons:
"They came to kill us, to rob my children! We have no use for these things, so we piled them here! Honorable Plague Lord, if they are useful to you, take them all!"
These... these enemies were really rich... Garrett quickly glanced at the nearby Golden Eagle Warriors, noticing their twitching cheeks as they turned away silently. Clearly, many of these enemies were warriors from the Kingdom of Eagles.
They must have had mines at home... otherwise, how could they come to battle dressed in so much gold... The treasures looted by the coalition army earlier, those from the Radiant Church, were also plundered from large indigenous tribes...
"Cirilla!" Garrett called out loudly. The Silver Dragon Lady responded, and Garrett pointed to the gold in the pit:
"These are yours, exchange some gold coins for me! I need the little demon to make syringes!"
"Wow—" Cirilla's beautiful silver-blue eyes instantly turned into golden "$" signs.
She generously threw a handful of gold coins, rushing to the pit. With a wave of her hand, the gold and jewels floated up, forming a vortex around her. Gold plates, gold bowls, gold crowns, gold scepters...
The gold pyramid grew larger and taller, soon reaching Cirilla's waist.
Garrett: "..."
He twitched his mouth and turned away, focusing on directing the little demon's work. 20ml syringes, 50ml syringes, injection needles, various bottles...
Well, even if he took this gold, he couldn't spend it—either melt it down to make gold coins (highly unlikely), sell it to the council (even less likely), or let it sit in his spatial equipment, waiting to be remembered someday.
In comparison, offering it to Cirilla for bed-making was better, since his surplus gold ultimately ended up being used for her bed anyway...
He turned back to collecting syringes, sterilizing them, weighing the powder, preparing the doses, and filling the bottles. He instructed Bernard and the others in front of the White Horn King:
"I've portioned out each dose; the big bulls get a full syringe, the smaller ones a smaller dose. You all learned this yesterday... Bernard will ride Appa, and Mr. Baronessimo, please arrange for a bull to lead the way and ensure his safety..."
The White Horn King nodded vigorously. Garrett handed all the
injections to Bernard and the two Golden Eagle Warriors, waving his hand forcefully:
"With the medicine and the Healing Light spell, they will get better! Tell your children not to fear the Plague Maiden too much!"
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