Returning from the abyss

Chapter 1453 Planting the Plague
The Plague Apostles share a very obvious common trait: regardless of their intelligence or stupidity, rationality or madness, they will all attempt to conquer a city that has never experienced a plague outbreak. To date, almost every city in the empire, large and small, has been ravaged by the Plague Apostles. Apart from the capital, where the Pope is stationed and the Plague Apostles die in droves, very few cities have escaped their harassment.

There was no reason why Violet City was an exception. The Plague Apostles' disturbances occurred every twenty years or so, but Violet City had never heard of a large-scale plague outbreak. The records for the past five years were also very stable. In the eyes of the Cardinal of Salvation, who was in charge of plague treatment, either Violet City was about to have a major outbreak, or the Violet City leadership had already colluded with the Plague Apostles.

“Father Petrov, don’t you think there are too few cases here? And they’re all so mediocre. Although we all despise the plague apostles, we shouldn’t underestimate them,” the pharmacist said.

After a moment of silence, Father Petrov replied, “The Pathfinder, Pandeon, has been spotted in the vicinity of Violet City more than a dozen times in the past ten years. I believe that this plague apostle is probably planning a massive plague, which is what we have been guarding against.”

The pharmacist recalled that Pan De'ang was active even before she was born, and hearing the name again now made her feel as if she were seeing something from a textbook.

“…Pan De'ang? He’s not dead yet?”

“Yes, Pandeon is not dead yet. He has even formed a gang of plague apostles. There are four known members, including himself. We don’t know if there are any other members,” Father Petrov said. “After learning about this, the Church organized several raids, but the plague apostles, who have not yet begun to act, are really difficult to capture. The Deathly Cauldron has taken action several times, but it has only killed some infected people.”

"Wait a minute, they killed some infected people?" The pharmacist immediately interrupted Petrov. "The Saviorate wasn't involved in the operation? Why did it escalate to killing? Which taboo code was violated?"

"Article Seven: The infected individuals clearly demonstrated an intention to protect the Plague Apostles. According to regulations, the priority should be to kill them instead of to help them. The Church will not risk sacrificing its own people when fighting the Plague Apostles," Father Petrov said. "In addition, my students participated in that operation. This decision was jointly confirmed by the heads of the Salvation, Funeral, and Warning action groups, and the procedure was correct."

“No, I’m not questioning the procedure, Father Petrov. What I need to confirm is which one. They clearly demonstrated their intention to protect the Plague Apostles, which is very similar to the infected people we encountered before created by Rosemerada.”

“If that’s the case, then it’s a very dangerous enemy,” Father Petrov said solemnly. “Compared to the terror of directly spreading the plague, the seductive words that bewitch people are much more difficult to deal with. If Rosemerada does indeed possess similar abilities, then the magic bestowed by the Plague Lord is probably not its most difficult aspect to deal with.”

=
Blue Cobalt's home welcomed visitors once again.

“Miss Rosemerada, it has been several days since I last saw you, and your beauty has not faded at all. I dare to guess that the plague has been planted in Violet City as planned, given my visit today.”

He raised his glass to congratulate Rosemerada in advance. This guy's performance slightly surprised Rosemerada. In this hastily assembled team, while each member certainly possessed unique skills in creating plagues, in terms of controlling the situation… this Blue Cobalt was probably the most capable.

"After all, I'm the one who actually carries it out. If I don't demonstrate some ability, you probably won't trust me later."

Blue Cobalt nodded: "This kind of problem does indeed need to be prevented in advance. I myself certainly don't distrust you, but others may not. After all, everyone here is a capable apostle, and geniuses can always be arrogant, and the same applies to you. I think it's unnecessary for me to ask you again, where have the various plagues spread to?"

After it was decided that Rosemerada would be in charge of spreading and observing the plague that day, in addition to the plague prototype provided in the letter, Blue Cobalt and Lady Red also each took out a plague prototype and gave it to her for the first release.

These three prototypes weren't their most significant achievements. An average Plague Apostle might spend their entire life researching only one type of plague, but for exceptionally talented individuals, the various byproducts of their research alone could create a prototype of a new species. Of course, the byproducts of Blue Cobalt and the Red Lady couldn't compare to the thing the letter pulled out; before the plague was actually released, no one knew exactly what the consequences would be.

"Gourmet" and "Fluorescence," Blue Cobalt and the Red Lady clearly had some expectations regarding the effects of the plague. Rosemerada knew that both of these were relatively inferior plagues, provided to her merely as allies for observation purposes, and therefore, following the usual methods of plague apostles, she inoculated some people in the city.

=
Merchant Fugate believed that his decision to come to Violet City was absolutely the right one.

In this great city with its bustling streets, he earned more than three times his initial investment simply by reselling his goods. That amount was enough for him to treat himself well here—if it weren't for the higher cost of actually living in Violet City, he probably would have chosen to stay here.

When he told these words to the nobleman he had met there, the nobleman simply showed a kind expression.

“My friend, you are right. Violet City is such a place. Life here is much more expensive than in the countryside, but correspondingly, it offers a very comfortable living experience. It is rich in resources, and people from within the territory of the Grand Duke of Toril pay tribute to it, which means that everything from this territory can be found here.”

"Truly worthy of being the capital of Toriljan." The merchant raised his glass, took a sip, and revealed a look of intoxication. "Even the wine here is completely different from those cheap imitations."

"These are wines from my collection, not the common kind. My friend, you are a very talented person, and I would like to invite you to settle here, but you will have to raise the money yourself."

Fuget smiled wryly: "Please don't give me that hope. I've calculated it, and I don't have enough money to buy an identity here."

“My friend, an identity doesn’t necessarily have to be bought with money… Haha, it’s alright, you’ll understand once you stay here a few more days. There are plenty of opportunities in Violet City.”

The nobleman then instructed his servants to bring out the prepared dishes, and the meal was a delightful one for both the host and guests, who were very satisfied.

After a hearty meal, Fugt returned to the hotel he had chosen. He was not blinded by the nobleman's constant address of "my friend." On the contrary, he was well aware of his own abilities and that the nobleman was only after his money.

Nobles are everywhere in Violet City, and the one he'd befriended was only a minor figure. Although he still maintained a certain air of importance, he was still short of money. After all, aristocratic social life is a bottomless pit of money; to continue navigating this circle, one must constantly invest.

As he pondered this, Fugt picked up his glass and poured himself a glass of the cheap beer offered by the hotel.

Unfortunately, after eating such delicious food, drinking this kind of wine only tastes bland and tasteless.

"Sooner or later, I will drink that kind of wine again by my own ability."

Fuget finished the glass of wine, which was as white as water, and then went to rest.

However, Violet City's nightlife was only just beginning. The first floor of the inn was used as a tavern in the evenings; it wasn't a high-class place, and the soundproofing wasn't great. Fugt, as usual, went to bed early, but was soon awakened by the noise from downstairs. He didn't like getting involved in these things, but the commotion was getting louder and louder, making it impossible to sleep. Annoyed, Fugt threw on a coat, grabbed a dagger, and went downstairs.

Anyone who dares to come out and sell goods must have some skills.
As soon as he went downstairs, Fugt discovered that the boss was being grabbed by the collar and yelled at.

"You usually dilute your drinks with water, and I've let it slide because the price is cheap. But today you dare to sell me water directly, huh?"

"Money back!"

"We're here to drink! We've had enough water during the day!"

Several burly men surrounded the shop owner, while two bodyguards stood beside him, blocking them. The owner leisurely lit his pipe and sneered, "Water? You guys each chugged down a big glass, and you still have foam on your lips, and you think I'm selling you water as wine? You come here to extort money from me? Why do you think I dare to open a shop here? You think you can threaten me?"

The boss spoke with a provocative tone in every word, clearly not the kind of businessman who valued harmony that Fugt knew.

"My wine is a bit weak, but you guys can't just lie to me like that. Lots of people come here to drink tonight, all from the same bucket. What, you're the only ones who came up with water?" The owner glanced sideways at the troublemakers. "You even broke two of my chairs and a wine glass..."

"You profiteer!"

Those who came to cause trouble were all hot-tempered and wouldn't listen to the boss. However, although they were all manual laborers, they were no match for the trained bodyguards. The two bodyguards quickly took them all down, and then the boss took their wallets, slapped some money on the counter, and threw the rest back at them.

"Throw them out! If any of you ever show your faces here again, I'll beat you every time I see you!"

The boss handled the situation with obvious skill. Seeing that things had finally quieted down, Fugt put the dagger away. He rubbed his stomach; he was quite full from the dinner, but also a little thirsty. With the aim of quenching his thirst and helping him sleep, he took a sip of beer.

no taste.

This was wrong. He knew he had dozed off for a while, and even though he still missed the taste of the wine, the actual aroma had long since dissipated from his mouth. He had drunk the wine here that morning; he could still taste the faint malty aroma, and the pungent flavor of the wine was quite noticeable.

No one paid him any attention, and Fugt could only carry the glass upstairs; he was no match for the two bodyguards next to the boss.

"I am sick?"

As a traveling merchant, Fuget had naturally experienced some illnesses during his travels. He knew that sometimes even a simple cold could cause a loss of the sense of smell. However, he didn't need to ask the church for help with such a minor matter. He immediately found his bag, took out two pills, and swallowed them with this cup of water-like wine.

"Ugh...it's so bitter. Can't the church improve the taste?" Fugt smacked his lips and went back to bed.

What he didn't know was that several taverns and restaurants in the vicinity had been involved in fights that night. However, it was common for drunk guys to fight, and they usually settled the matter privately by paying compensation. The guards here were too lazy to get involved in such things.

It wasn't until the next day, when Fugett discovered that not only did his alcohol taste bland, but his breakfast also had no flavor, that he realized something was wrong.

There were many people eating here, and judging from their expressions, there was clearly nothing wrong with the food. Fugett took the medicine he had prepared again, but what made him uneasy was that this time, the pill had no taste, just as if his wish from last night had come true.

Soon, a second similar incident occurred. An elderly man carrying his plate told the waiter that the food had no flavor. The waiter then took a bite and angrily berated the man. The old man was astonished but dared not retaliate, and finally slunk away, paying his bill and leaving.

“No, I have to go to church…” Fuget stood up. He sensed something was wrong; something bad might be happening to him. But few people shared his thoughts. After all, most people here were just laborers doing simple jobs. For them, something as simple as tasteless food didn't warrant going to church. After all, the coarse bread and plain water they ate usually had no flavor anyway.

Fugt asked for directions and hurried toward the church.

Violet City has many churches, and it's quite obvious. Looking at the shimmering stained-glass windows in the distance, Fugt's unease eased considerably. He quickly arrived at the church and, taking advantage of the fact that there weren't many people around, went inside.

"Hello, sir..."

It seemed someone was calling him, but he was too preoccupied with his illness to pay any attention to the voice. Fugate walked towards the confessional, where a priest or nun usually stood guard. He figured he could pay a little money to have them perform a divine heal, just to cure himself directly and avoid any aftereffects. He opened the door and strode inside.

……

"I always said that we should keep a closer eye on outsiders."

"I never expected them to even dare to target the church."

"Good riddance."

A crowd gathered outside the latrine, buzzing with discussion. Several church servants pulled a drowned body from the cesspool. The cause of death had been announced: the man had come to the latrine after drinking, attempting to use a dagger to dig a hole in the wall to spy on women on the other side, but slipped, fell, and drowned.