Chapter 254

Yuri quickly racked her brain as best she could.

Running a relief camp might not be such an impossible task after all.

However, this wasn’t the northern region but smack in the middle of the Central Continent, and this was the street that had been hit hardest by the plague. Finding volunteers for such an operation would be near impossible, and even if they pushed through with it, there was no doubt that the soldiers’ trust would be lost as they feared catching the illness themselves.

Yuri herself was well aware that morale among the troops was at an all-time low. She could sense that upsetting them any further would lead to dire consequences, using her instincts as a vassal.

But that wasn’t the only issue.

With our supply lines cut off from the mainland by the Chel Army, our current state of supplies under Yuri’s command was nothing short of abysmal.

The claim that “supplies rightfully belonging to us have been leaking to the territorial people of regions that weren’t even part of our army’s domain just months ago” might sound harsh, but in these times of scarcity, it was a complaint bound to arise.

Should we then not operate the camp?

In truth, this would be the safer choice. A plague is ultimately an act of God, and it couldn’t be blamed on anyone specifically.

――If only I hadn’t recklessly spoken out of turn.

How politically disadvantageous it was that “Serpina, accused of spreading the plague, runs the relief camp while doing nothing herself.”

I’m not so stupid that I don’t understand that much, am I? By the time I thought that far…

――…No.

I began to wonder if I might be stupid after all.

Who put me in this position where I’m forced to make such choices?

Was it Serpina? Or maybe one of my two remaining comrades?

It was myself.

All of this was brought about by none other than myself. Perhaps leaving comrades behind due to war and the plague was also… somehow my fault. My head was in utter turmoil.

“Master…?”

“…Later. I’ll answer eventually… please step aside.”

After barely swallowing down something rising deep within her heart, Yuri spoke up. The soldier loudly replied and casually exited the royal palace, glancing back cautiously.

“Emma… and Erhandorf… what should I do now…? We… how should we…!”

As much as I questioned my departed comrades while clutching my head in frustration, no answers came.

* * *

What does it mean to wander between life and death?

To many people, it may carry different meanings, but in Anima’s case – it meant continuously replaying the hallucination of a specific moment from her past.

That very moment when she made an unchanging vow with the five survivors of the academy tragedy.

The moment she swore with her childhood friend to pour our souls into a red flag…

Occasionally, she would regain consciousness.

She vaguely remembered speaking or eating, but upon reflection, she often remained in a haze, unsure of the date or time.

At some point, losing track of how much time had passed…

“…Ah.”

When Yuri reached out her hand toward me, I extended mine once more.

For the first time, I fully realized I was lying in bed.

“…Where am I…”

Once I came to my senses, the situation became startlingly clear.

I had caught the plague and had been bedridden. Doctors visited occasionally, though I can’t recall much of their conversations.

Still, my body feels light. Despite the vivid memory of having my head feel like I swallowed a burning coal, I can breathe properly now.

Anima slowly rose, flexing her remaining hand.

“…Is anyone here?”

“Strategist…?”

Anima’s vision started flowing again.

* * *

Upon hearing that she had regained consciousness, Epinal was the first to visit.

“Are you okay now, Anima?”

“Yeah. Though my body feels fine… are you sure it’s safe for you to come so close? Even though they say I’ve recovered, you never know.”

“Nope. Seeing how cured individuals and their families are living normally, once recovered, you’re no longer a threat.”

“…Is that so?”

Anima let out a short sigh before quietly sniffled.

“Emma… she really… passed away, didn’t she?”

“Yeah… she succumbed to the plague.”

“Hmm…”

Tears trickled down her cheeks once more.

“I thought I heard about it last time… Emma really is gone, huh.”

“She was in bad shape… Anima, your survival alone is already a miracle considering the high mortality rate of this plague.”

“Yeah…”

Anima knew full well that she herself could have easily perished. Continuing to wallow in grief over losing her wouldn’t be what the deceased Emma would have wanted.

Quickly wiping away her tears and composing herself, Anima moved on to the main topic.

“What’s happened during my absence?”

“The frontlines are at a standstill. The plague has spread to both the Chel Army and the Kalintz Army. It seems to have passed its peak, but when it will truly subside is still unclear.”

“Anything else noteworthy?”

“Noteworthy… perhaps the establishment of a relief camp for plague victims by Serpina’s forces.”

“Serpina’s forces?”

Surprised by the unexpected name, Anima’s voice trembled slightly. Epinal nodded slowly.

“Yeah. Likely because she’s aware of the rumors accusing her of spreading the plague.”

“…Wait. She spread the plague? What does that even mean?”

“Oh, right. You haven’t been fully conscious until now…”

Epinal explained everything that had happened during Anima’s absence, including Serpina’s sudden quarantine order and the subsequent proclamation by the Aishias Army.

“What? The faction claiming Serpina spread the plague is our own army…?”

“…Yeah.”

Anima slammed her fist against the bed.

“What kind of ridiculous nonsense is that?! If she actually did spread the plague, it would also mean she saved the lives of the Central Continent’s territorial people! That argument doesn’t hold water. Besides, how could someone even spread a plague?”

“Well, given that Serpina’s army has a mage…”

“There’s no historical record of mages directly creating plagues, is there? Anyway, so they’re operating a relief camp? Are the soldiers saying anything?”

“Seems like it… either threatened or something, they’re throwing themselves into the relief efforts despite the risk to their own lives.”

Threats, huh.

Serpina was certainly capable of such actions, but I couldn’t quite grasp her true intentions.

And it seemed Epinal felt the same way, shaking his head as he muttered.

“How should I know what that woman is thinking?”

Anima placed her hand on her forehead and sighed deeply.

“If someone has been putting ideas into Yuri’s head… execution wouldn’t be enough.”

“…Huh?”

“Almost as if conspiring with Serpina, public opinion has turned in her favor. If we’d just stayed silent, it wouldn’t have escalated this far… Think about it, Epinal. If our territory’s territorial people ask ‘why isn’t the Aishias Army running a relief camp?’, what could we possibly say?”

“That’s…”

“If there were no prior statements, silence might have worked, but now that words have been spoken, refusing to operate a camp would make the territorial people think poorly of our army. In the long term, losing trust among the continent’s territorial people would be the worst possible choice for a vassal. And sending soldiers to a relief camp essentially means driving them to certain death? Any thought would reveal the loss of soldiers’ trust. Who did it? While I was absent…”

A face came to mind, yet identifying the culprit clearly was proving difficult.

“So, who was it? The person who suggested this.”

“…”

Epinal kept his head bowed, maintaining a long silence before finally answering with determination.

“…Yuri.”

“What…?”

“The one who planned to corner Serpina by directly declaring against her army… was Yuri herself.”

…Plop. One of her tensed arms went limp, falling onto the bedsheet. The heat building in her head suddenly turned cold.

“Yuri… did that?”

“Yeah…”

Overwhelming despair washed over Anima, deeper and stickier than anything she’d ever felt before.

Not even when she lost an arm, when imprisoned by Serpina risking her life, when losing Erhandorf in battle, or even upon hearing Emma’s death moments ago had she experienced such emotion.

Anima closed her eyes tightly and bowed her head.

Her strategist’s instincts were screaming at her.

So, it couldn’t be missed.

Realizing that the one making decisions without any gain was Lord Yuri herself…

―The twilight of the Aishias Army had begun its descent.

* * *

It had been quite some time since the camp’s operations began.

Fortunately, Reika could regularly cast buff spells on us, preventing everyone from contracting the plague. Given the high likelihood that at least one of those seeking aid carried pathogens, it was safe to say the magic was working effectively.

Many events unfolded during this period.

Most significantly, the plague entered a lull. Death tolls dropped to a quarter, and confirmed infections visibly decreased. The relief camp grew quieter, signaling that the seemingly endless plague was finally heading toward its conclusion.

“Soon, we might be able to wrap up the camp.”

“It’s really fortunate that nothing went wrong…”

“All thanks to Miss Reika.”

I patted Reika’s head as I spoke. This wasn’t empty praise; without her, operating the relief camp so boldly wouldn’t have been possible. If even one of our side had fallen ill, not only would Serpina’s image not improve, but we’d likely be branded tyrants forcing soldiers to certain death.

Moreover, as Reika mentioned – the good fortune extended beyond that.

The reputation of the Aishias Army, which had effectively targeted ours, was plummeting.

They probably wanted to run a relief camp like us.

Of course, they lacked Reika. Meaning their soldiers would inevitably be exposed to the plague’s dangers.

Even if just a few more cases arose, it would create problems, leaving them unable to act. Consequently, Serpina’s credibility across the Central Continent was crumbling.

A ruler who loses the hearts of the territorial people can never achieve great undertakings.

If achieving the Unified Empire was a race, she had veered off course.

Meanwhile, as expected, rumors about Lady Serpina were trending towards “not beneficial to the state but advantageous to her personally.”

The relief camp itself was significant, but after its operations commenced, people began noticing the contradictions in her “forced relocation of territorial people” and “spreading the plague to kill them.”

This marked a historic moment where she received positive evaluations for the first time amidst accusations of tyranny.

Though Lady Serpina stated that relocating territorial people meant she gained nothing, ultimately, it freed her from absurd rumors.

“Good. Moving forward, it’s best to act in ways that don’t benefit the state but help her.”

Right then.

Iriam entered the base camp where Swen and I were resting, looking flustered.

“Swen, there you are.”

“What’s the matter?”

His unusually urgent tone made me tense as I asked him.

“Well, it might just be a rumor… but it’s too serious to ignore.”

“Too serious to ignore, you say?”

Iriam nodded slowly.

“There’s news of a mage appearing.”

“…What?”

“A rumor that someone capable of using magic has appeared in the Southern Continent.”

He was delivering a story I momentarily forgot but could never truly forget.