This heretic cannot be burned, he must be hung up and whipped!

The plague of human nature is more terrifying than the virus.

The adjutant walked into the room, his face even paler than before. "The medical station reports that over twenty soldiers in the East District have developed high fevers. They've been quarantined according to Bishop Marburg's plan," he said gravely. "But the number is still increasing. We don't know where the soldiers and civilians who consumed this soup have gone."

Neos turned, his eyes gleaming with worry. "We must prepare for the worst-case scenario. That is, the entire East City District will fall to the plague. Although I can dispel the plague, I can't dispel the plague from hundreds of thousands of people at once. I need the people and soldiers to trust me, believe in my power, so that I can - do you understand?"

The adjutant thought for a few seconds and said, "We have several tons of bread in stock. You can use it and say that it is a manifestation of God, a blessing to you. Then the people will believe you.

"But human nature can't stand the test. If I just brought a few boxes of bread that the people were used to, they'd probably think it was a scam. We still have a large stockpile of bread, and it's our church that's deliberately withholding food from them! The people knew it was Beelzebub's plague-infected food, yet they still dared to loot it. If they thought we still had plenty of food...

The people have tasted the sweetness. They violated the order we set once, but were not punished. Once the rules are broken, they will be broken countless times. We failed when we did not stop them from looting the first time!

The collapse of order in this city is only a matter of time, and I must do it as soon as possible, we must do it as soon as possible.

"But luckily, we still have a channel connecting us to the outside world. We must do our utmost to open it up now, immediately, right now! We are racing against time. What if the heretics take advantage of this opportunity to break in?!"

"Yes! At your command!"

--------

The next day, in the church basement, in the isolation room

"I have ordered the isolation of all soldiers showing symptoms," Neos said.

Nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, these were the symptoms of Marburg a few hours ago.

"But..." Bishop Marburg's voice suddenly became hoarse, and a violent cough interrupted his words.

Neos watched him warily, noticing a rash covering Marburg's entire body.

"Bishop, you need to rest," Neos said carefully, secretly calculating the time from exposure to the onset of symptoms. If his guess was correct, then the situation was worse than he thought.

It was too fast, the speed from infection to illness... He was sure that he had completely eliminated the power of hell, but why... why did the illness come on so quickly!

Where the hell did Beelzebub and his gang of hook-selling demons get such potent stuff?

Marburg waved his hand. "Just a little tired, and my joints ache all over. Now, about that oil transfer..."

But Neos was no longer focused on the discussion. His gaze fell on Marburg's bloodshot eyes and the unusual red spots on his face, and fear surged in his heart.

"bishop...."

Neos raised his hand and pointed at Marburg.

"What's wrong? I..."

The bishop, whose mouth, nose, and eyes were bleeding, asked.

Patient symptoms.jpg

PS: 240 votes, next update 4.5k...

In Flame: 1914: Chapter 34: The Lord of Budapest

Sas-hegy, Eagle Mountain, south of Budapest

The once green mountains have been transformed into purgatory by the Hell Legion. Military camps and basalt altars have been built, and a twisted building stands on the top of the mountain.

This is the joint command center of the heretic legion.

"Wow - put down your weapons, my loyal lords. Yue-*-yi~首++发##" The sound of a sword swinging broke the silence.

In the center of the command room, a long table stretched across it. Maps and parchment documents covered with profane symbols were scattered on the tabletop. The flickering candlelight revealed scratches of varying depths on the tabletop. It was obvious that this was not the first time a quarrel had occurred.

At either end of the table sat Karsus, Plaguebringer, commander of the Black Grail Cult, and Asmodeus, the Blade of Pride, commander of the Dawnstar Cult. Behind them, their respective generals stood silently on either side, their armor reflecting a faint light.

PS: The symbol of Lucifer, who represents arrogance, is the morning star.

On either side of the wall stood a massive mirror, its frame forged from twisted demonic metal and inlaid with shimmering symbols. In the left mirror, Beelzebub loomed, standing before the fortress of the seventh layer of Hell, surrounded by buzzing flies, the scent of plague seeping through the mirror's surface.

In the mirror on the right, Lucifer's dragon head stands proudly, behind him is the arrogant palace of hell, with its spires piercing the blood-red sky, symbolizing his endless desire for power.

"Karsus, how is the siege going?"

Beelzebub's voice came from the mirror, low and cold, with a disturbing hint of moisture.

Karsus leaned forward slightly, his armor engraved with symbols of the plague, the skin on his face was covered with ulcers, and pus was slowly flowing out of his body, dripping onto the servants' plates.

He replied respectfully, "Respected Lord of Hell, we have completely surrounded the over 400,000 Crusaders in Budapest. Their supply lines have been cut, and the food and water supply in the city is rapidly decreasing. Hunger and desperation will soon force them to attack us."

"Very good," Beelzebub said with a hint of satisfaction in his voice. "Let them suffer in fear. When they take the initiative to attack, my plague will devour their souls."

"Follow the will of the Lord of Hell!"

Karsus answered excitedly, and the large and small tumors on his body split open, spurting out streams of pus filled with germs and plagues. Some of the pus splashed onto the armor of the generals loyal to Lucifer, and black smoke rose up.

Karsus's act of spreading plague and corruption without distinguishing between friend and foe aroused the disgust of more officers. Under the gaze of the two leaders of Hell, they dared not show their full support.

Lucifer's vertical pupils moved slightly in the mirror, and his eyes swept over everyone present with a hint of disdain.

"Asmodeus, how is your legion prepared?" His voice was as loud as thunder, full of arrogance and majesty.

Asmodeus stood up. His battle robe was ornate and flamboyant, embroidered with twisted flames. He straightened his chest and answered confidently:

"My lord, the Legion's one hundred and thirty 'Flaming Claws' landships are ready for action. Their engines burn with the oil of hell, and their cannons are ready to spew molten lava and death. At your command, they will crush the walls of Budapest!"

"Very good!" Lucifer nodded, "But we must wait patiently. The agreement must be observed - only siege, no attack. This is the decision of the leaders of the Seven Rings of Hell."

The generals present were talking in low voices, and the atmosphere was temporarily relaxed. The generals of the Beelzebub Legion were discussing the details of the plague's spread. A Plague Knight chuckled softly and said:

"The Danube has frozen over, and the city's water supply has begun to rot. In a few days, they will become our slaves even if they can't even drink water."

Elsewhere, the generals of the Lucifer Legion were showing off the power of their landships. A lavishly dressed archon boasted, "Yesterday we test-fired a special lava bomb, and half a mountain was reduced to ash!"

The atmosphere in the tent seemed to still have a hint of cooperation. The candlelight flickered, and the shadows of the generals twisted and danced on the wall.

"boom--"

The Crusaders inside and outside Budapest launched a fierce attack on Hell's defense line. The sound of large-caliber heavy artillery traveled more than ten kilometers and reached the command center.

Suddenly, Lucifer's figure became clearer in the mirror, and his eyes were filled with flames of anger, as if to set the whole room on fire.

"Asmodeus! I sense the presence of that traitor," his voice suddenly rose, filled with uncontrollable anger. "Nyos... the cursed one, that liar! That despicable thief! How dare you deceive me? I sense his power. He is within Budapest!"

Legion Commander Asmodeus nodded, aware of Lucifer's hatred for Neos. He was one of the few high-ranking nobles who knew about the deal in the Aether Sea. Neos had violated his agreement with Lucifer, stealing the Lord of Pride's power and knowledge, thus damaging Lucifer's very essence. He responded cautiously:

"My lord, the cursed are indeed in the city, but our primary target is the main force of the Crusaders—"

"Primary target?" Lucifer interrupted him. "That thief stole my things without paying for them. This is an insult to me! I cannot tolerate him living under my nose! I must roast his soul in flames for ten thousand years!"

Beelzebub's figure tilted slightly in the mirror, his tone tinged with gloating. "Lucifer, we have an agreement. The Hydra Court has resolved to hold a siege, not attack, until the defenders launch an attack. You cannot let personal... 'personal grudges' derail the plan."

Lucifer sneered, and his figure in the mirror became taller, as if he was about to walk out of the mirror.

"Beelzebub, your plague may satisfy you, but my dignity will not allow me to wait—no creature, no creature! No price to pay after humiliating me! My legions will strike first. The heads of the cursed will hang before the gates of my palace!"

The atmosphere in the tent froze. The generals' conversations abruptly ceased, and everyone's gaze was fixed on the two mirrors. Karsus's face darkened, and he gripped the edge of the table tightly, the tumor on his face heaving with emotion. Asmodeus narrowed his eyes slightly, a hint of a provocative smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

"Lucifer, you are insulting the decision of the Seven-Headed Serpent's Court." Beelzebub's voice became even colder, with a hint of threat. "You have to understand that it is because you six didn't want me to sacrifice these millions of victims with the plague alone that you jointly pressured me to wait outside the city.

I may not care, but the other five lords of hell are not as easy to talk to as I am, Lucifer."

"I do not need your consent, Beelzebub," Lucifer said confidently, "I will tear through Budapest's defenses, and the damned will die at my hands. You can continue to play your plague game, but stay out of my way."

Lucifer knew that Neos' power was extraordinary and that he could control all the forces of Hell. However, no matter how powerful Neos was in the Aether Sea, he was still subject to the constraints of the laws of real physics. With his own armored legions attacking him en masse, he would surely be able to capture Neos alive.

Karsus finally couldn't help but speak: "Respected Lord of Pride, this agreement is for the benefit of the Seven Rings of Hell. If you insist on attacking, the other five rings may -"

"Perhaps what?" Asmodeus snorted coldly and turned to Karsus. "Our armored corps has crushed everything since the beginning of the war. It was our troops, not your plague, that trapped these hundreds of thousands of elite Crusaders in this city."

A general from the Beelzebub Legion slammed the table and pointed at Asmodeus, angrily shouting, "Arrogant Sword, how dare you insult the power of the Lord of Hell?"

The situation quickly spiraled out of control. The commanders on both sides began to accuse each other, their tone shifting from mockery to anger. Beelzebub's officers accused the Lucifer Legion of breaking the agreement, while the Lucifer Legion's commanders slammed the Black Grail Cult as insidious and cowardly. The air inside the tent seemed to ignite.

"Enough!" Lucifer roared from the mirror. "Beelzebub, if you dare to stop me, I will have my legion destroy your favorite Tumor Lord!"

The seven rings of hell fight each other. The important reason why humans have not been defeated by hell in the past eight hundred years is that the seven lords of hell are always fighting each other. Only after the new lord of hell is elected in the cruel and bloody competition will they reluctantly reach a ceasefire agreement.

Lucifer took a huge risk by sending an elite army from Hell to the human world. If the other lords of Hell started to attack him, he would...

Beelzebub's voice grew low and dangerous, like the combined buzzing of countless flies. "Lucifer, if you dare attack my legion, I will indiscriminately spread the Black Grail, turning Budapest into a hotbed of plague. Even your legion will be affected. We'll see who's more anxious then!"

The image in the mirror began to distort. Behind Beelzebub, the scene in the seventh layer of Hell became even more terrifying. Swarms of hellish insects emerged from the ground, emitting a shrill buzzing sound. Lucifer's palace was engulfed in flames, its spires ablaze.

"When the child told the teacher that he needed to defecate, he had already done it." Lucifer's tone was filled with a hint of warning. "Do you think we don't know that you have already started spreading the Black Holy Grail in the city?"

"Lucifer, same here. Budapest's underground waterways are wide enough for a landship to pass through. I saw everything with your engineers." Beelzebub sneered, "If the Joint Command cannot restrain you, then disband it. My Black Grail will act according to my will!"

As soon as he finished speaking, Beelzebub vanished from the mirror, leaving behind only a distorted red glow. Lucifer's figure also faded, leaving only the empty seventh layer of Hell. The silence within the tent was suffocating. Karsus and Asmodeus exchanged glances, their gazes filled with hostility.

"Pack your things and prepare for a full-scale attack," Karsus whispered. His generals moved quickly, rolling up the map, their pus spraying onto the table without hesitation.

"Our landspeeders will be moving tonight," Asmodeus retorted. "Bullets are being sacrificed faster than germs."

The generals on both sides stopped talking and turned away.

The joint command was disbanded, and Beelzebub's Black Grail Cult and Lucifer's Dawn Star Cult would each fight their own battles. And the over 400,000 Crusaders within Budapest would also face a new fate in this internal conflict between the forces of Hell.

----------

Western District of Budapest

Inside the isolation cell, the bishop's body no longer resembled that of a living person. His skin was covered in purple-black patches, black blood continuously seeped from his mouth, nose, and eyes, and fragments of his internal organs spilled from the corners of his mouth with every weak breath.

Neos stood outside the glass window, his hands clenched tightly, his fingertips gleaming with psychic energy, trying to stimulate the remaining vitality in the bishop's body. However, no matter how hard he tried, Marburg still did not recover, as if life itself had refused to cooperate with him.

His psychic powers weren't omnipotent. He didn't know how to treat this unknown disease. The healing spells the Observer had given him only strengthened the body's natural constitution and rapidly promoted its recovery, rather than identifying and eliminating the various bizarre pathogens. Malbork's feet had long since been in the coffin, and now Neos's psychic power was pulling his head out, allowing him to survive in endless pain and torment.

PS: This is a medical point. The Ebola virus triggers a cytokine storm in the human body, ultimately leading to liquefaction of internal organs. Strictly speaking, the stronger the immune system, the worse the symptoms. Neos's magic happens to be repairing the body, so the conflict between the two leads to this situation.

"Take... them... away—" Bishop Marburg's voice was so weak it was almost inaudible. Neos knew what he meant. It was his will, to lead the hundreds of thousands of Crusaders and civilians from the city alive. He took a deep breath and nodded. Marburg's face, shrunken with pain, forced a smile and closed his still-bleeding eyes.

The next morning, the sky was overcast and a cold wind blew snowflakes through the streets of Budapest. Neos put on his bishop's robes, brought some food, and went to the eastern part of the city.

A large group of soldiers and civilians had gathered in the square. They were emaciated with pale faces and hollow eyes, and many had sickly red spots on their bodies, clearly ravaged by the plague. They leaned against broken walls and abandoned barricades, supporting their frail bodies. Their eyes fell on Neos, but without a trace of enthusiasm.

Neos walked to the center of the square, took a deep breath, and looked around. He could sense the suspicion and dissatisfaction permeating the crowd.

Ever since the "food" airdropped by heretics caused a plague, people have begun to blame the officials for not stopping the madness at the time.

"The Lord has blessed me," Neos said loudly, his voice echoing throughout the square, enhanced by spiritual energy. "He has given me the ability to create fish and loaves out of thin air. Your perseverance in the city these days has moved the Lord. On His behalf, I will forgive the sins of all the living beings in this city!"

As soon as the words fell, a murmur of discussion rose from the crowd. A civilian, emaciated to the point of bone, frowned and muttered, "Another trick! We've heard enough of this empty talk." A nearby civilian sneered, "Then why are we still starving? Why is the plague still killing people? Am I still guilty?"

"It sounds nice, but who knows if you're here to deceive us again!"

"Are you a heretic? Where is our Bishop of Marburg?" a middle-aged man with a loud voice shouted, drawing a chorus of echoes.

Neos didn't respond to these questions. He knew words wouldn't move these people tortured by hunger and despair. He needed action.

"Om-"

He raised his hands, spiritual energy gathering in his palms. A strange ripple suddenly rippled through the air. Then, a cold, blue sun appeared out of nowhere above the square, emitting a soft glow. A shower of light, like fine silk threads, fell upon everyone, bringing a warmth that dispelled the winter chill and physical fatigue.

The noise of the crowd gradually subsided, and someone whispered in surprise: "Is this... a gift from the Lord?" An old woman raised her hand, feeling the touch of the rain of light falling on her palm.

Neos showed a tired smile on his face. "Baptizing" tens of thousands of people at once brought him a lot of pressure, but he did not stop.

He pulled a large, cloth-covered basket from behind him, reached in with one hand, grabbed a handful of food, and tossed it into the air. The aroma of bread and dried fish instantly filled the air, and the food rained down on the crowd. It was the supplies he had urgently transported from the oil pipeline early that morning, now disguised by his psychic powers as part of a miracle.

At that moment, everyone went mad. The civilians, already dizzy with hunger, didn't even bother to distinguish between real and fake food, and pounced on the food on the ground. Soldiers dropped their weapons and joined in the scramble, creating chaos. A young soldier grabbed a piece of bread and stuffed it into his mouth, tears mixed with the crumbs and streaming down his cheeks.

"No snatching!"

Neos' voice echoed like thunder under the blessing of psychic energy.

"Whoever steals food from others, I will make him lose everything. Whoever is kind to others and willing to share for my name's sake and does not receive more, I will make him receive a hundredfold and inherit eternal life!"

His words carried undeniable authority, and the chaotic crowd gradually quieted. They began to realize that this wasn't just food; it was a test. An old soldier handed a piece of dried fish to a nearby child, while another civilian broke a piece of bread in half and shared it with his companions. Under Neos's watchful eye, order slowly returned.

"When the granaries are full, one knows etiquette; when one has enough food and clothing, one knows honor and disgrace..." Neos murmured.

He continued to take food from the basket and distribute it to the crowd. Miraculously, no matter how much he distributed it, the bread and dried fish in the basket seemed to be endless. People stared at this scene in amazement, their suspicion gradually giving way to shock.

"This is -! It must be the messenger of the Lord!" a pastor shouted excitedly and fell to his knees.

"Jesus has come to Budapest!" someone in the crowd shouted, his voice trembling and fanatical.

Word spread like wildfire. Priests and clergy spontaneously told those around them the story of Jesus' five loaves and two fishes. People began to believe that Neos was the divine incarnation, as his basket was never empty. Soldiers and civilians alike knelt in worship, offering their most heartfelt blessings.