The Monster King's Legacy-Chapter 97: A Mysterious Plague

The scout, still kneeling, cleared his throat. "There is one more thing, though we did not find the dragon, we did find traces of other movements."

Lance’s eyes narrowed slightly. "Explain."

The scout nodded. "There have been signs of creatures migrating en masse from the outskirts of the forest, moving deeper in. Tough for now, they remain far from us, there is no saying that their path will remain as it is."

"Well, that just means we must remain prepared. If the demons were to show up again, we’ll deal with them." Rusak said, nodding slightly.

"As you have said, Rusak." Lance then turned back to the scout. "Return to your post. Keep searching for the dragon and keep a close eye on any unusual movements."

The scout bowed his head. "Understood."

…

A day later, while Lance and Rusak stood together, discussing some matters, a scout came running to them, his face carrying a grim expression as he approached. It was a beastkin scout, a feline.

Not understanding the reason behind that kind of expression, Lance and Rusak rushed to the scout, assuming the worst, perhaps demons had appeared close to their settlement, or even worse, their scouts had met their end.

Luckily, once they got the scout to speak, that was not the case, but the news they received was not in any way good either, perhaps, it was worse than having the demons show up before their doorsteps.

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This beastkin was not part of the scouts working in the goblin territory or their alliance army, he had come running all the way from the beastkin territory without stopping. According to what he told them, a demon had passed through their lands on, leaving nothing but death in its wake.

The beastkin lands had fallen into decay, many beastkin were dying from strange diseases that no healer could seem to heal, and the once-proud settlements now lay as shadows of their former self with corpses appearing by the second. Even though the beastkin’s description of the matter appeared to be exaggerated… much… there was no mistaking the expression that etched on his face throughout.

Fields withered, rivers turned foul, and countless lives—beastkin, animals, even the land itself—succumbed to an unknown plague. The once-thriving beastkin territory had become a graveyard.

On hearing this, Rusak did not waste any time. Without hesitation, he set out for his homeland, taking two other beastmen with him. Lance, equally determined to assess the damage firsthand, insisted on following. After all, if there was such a powerful demon that could cause such an effect on an entire region, it was worth investigating. After all, from the beastkin’s explanation, the demon appeared to be headed towards the demon territory, just as they had learnt from the scouts the day before of other demons. If it was so, then the goblin territory was next.

Before departing, Lance relayed the news with the chiefs and asked the scouts to keep an eye out for the demon. With such unique descriptions, there was no way they would be able to identify it. The demon was a monstrous creature made entirely of flesh, dried muscles and bones, and on top of that, it could fly, with wings that resembled that of a bat.

Once the order had been given, Lance brought Rikka with him and they departed. They traveled swiftly, covering vast distances as quickly as possible.

As they approached the outskirts of the beastkin settlement, the signs of the plague became unmistakable, as an unnatural stillness filled the air. The trees along the road were stained with strange polluting colours, and the normally clear streams they had come by at different points, now ran murky and foul. The very air seemed heavy with decay. Animals that once roamed the forest were nowhere to be seen; even the birds had fallen silent. Even from a distance, the land seemed... sick.

Seeing the state of the place, Lance couldn’t help but furrow his brows as he thought to himself. ’This is terrible. It’s not just death, it’s decay, forced into overdrive.’

When they finally reached the heart of the beastkin settlement, the sight that greeted them was worse than they had imagined. What had once been a bustling community filled with life was now a desolate graveyard. Many beastkin lay collapsed or rotting, their bodies succumbing to the mysterious disease in a matter of days. Some had died in their homes, their bodies crumpled where they had fallen. The air was thick with the overwhelming stench of rot, and the few survivors they saw were too weak to even lift their heads, while those who could still walk moved slowly, their eyes hollow, with expressions etched with grief and fear.

Everything appeared unreal, especially for Lance. He almost felt like throwing up whenever he took a breath in because of the rotting smell that filled the air, but he held himself against it. The dead had decayed far too quickly, what should have taken weeks had happened in mere days. Skin sloughed from bone. Eyes had sunken, teeth exposed in grotesque, open-mouthed expressions of agony on the dead.

Seeing all this, Rusak clenched his fists, it was a painful sight to witness, especially as the leader of the people, they were practically like his own family.

Not succumbing to the sight that filled his vision all over, Rusak immediately summoned the remaining elders of his people. His voice was like a growl, filled with barely restrained rage, though not towards them, they still felt his anger sipping through. "Tell me everything."

A frail beastkin elder stepped forward, his fur thinned and scanty and himself now dulled by exhaustion. "A demon passed over our lands, a massive winged creature, flying through the sky. It had mostly flesh and bone, like a dried corpse. If I were to liken it, I would say a gargoyle. It never attacked us directly, but whatever it did, sickness and death soon followed. We aren’t the only ones suffering, even the trees, the water, the very air… everything has turned bad, everything is against us." He spoke, his sentences interrupted with light coughs.

Lance’s expression darkened as he listened. An enemy that didn’t even need to fight.

"Under two days, the sickness spread to every corner of our land," another elder added. "Some fell ill within hours. Others died before the sun could set. Our healers have tried all they could, but nothing works, its incurable."

Lance turned to Rusak. "This isn’t a simple plague. This is something far worse, corruption on a level I’ve never seen."

Rusak exhaled heavily, his claws digging into his palms. "We’ll burn the bodies. It’s the only way to honor them."

Lance frowned as he heard that. "That will only spread the sickness further."

Rusak’s gaze hardened. "And leaving them to rot is better?"

"No, but we can bury them instead, that would be much better." He suggested.

"Bury them? Their souls will remain trapped within the earth, never moving on, that is only torture." Rusak said, his position rigid.

Lance didn’t argue further. That was their tradition after all, something he was still yet to understand fully. When he asked, everyone seemed to worship some kind of god, but just like the goblins, the beastkin and orcs also offered their prayers to their ancestors and spirits of old. That aside, right at that moment, Rusak needed to do something, anything, to take control of the situation.

With the decision made, the remaining beastkin began gathering the dead. Funeral pyres were built, their flames soon consuming what was left of their fallen kin. Smoke rose into the sky, carrying with it the weight of grief and loss.

Lance, meanwhile, focused on the living, approached a young beastkin child standing near where he was. He could tell that the boy had also fallen sick from the way he looked and stood. He wanted to test of his healing ability would do anything against this disease, and fortunately, once he used it on the boy, he appeared to have been alleviated of his afflictions within a short while.

Lance then requested for all the sick to be gathered in an open space so he could heal them. Rusak had his people rushed through the settlement, gathering all the sick beastkin into large, cleared spaces. Lance moved among them, working tirelessly. He touched each afflicted beastkin, and slowly, the sick began to show signs of improvement. Their pallor brightened slightly, and their labored breathing eased. His magic appeared to have lifted their afflictions, though, Lance wasn’t too sure of it.

It took time, more time than he liked, but slowly, the dying stabilized, and more healthy beastkin emerged. Even so, he knew this was only a temporary fix. The land itself was poisoned, and as long as they remained there, they would continue to fall victim to the corruption.

By the time the last of the bodies had burned, Rusak stood at the edge of his ruined homeland, his expression unreadable.

Lance approached him with a proposition in mind. Though he could understand what kind of emotions were running through Rusak’s mind at that moment, there was no time to wait for the right time to talk to him. With a calm voice, he said to him, "This land isn’t safe anymore."

Rusak didn’t respond immediately. His gaze lingered on the horizon, where the vast lands of his ancestors stretched out before him, now tainted. Finally, he let out a slow breath, though, his fists were still clenched. "You are right."

Lance didn’t hesistae, speaking directly. "Bring your people to my territory. We’ll shelter them until we figure out how to cleanse this plague."

Rusak’s ears twitched. Beastkin were warriors, independent and proud. Abandoning their land, even temporarily, was perhaps, unthinkable. But, looking back at the weakened survivors, and analysing the situation, the choice was clear to anyone, in fact, Lance making the offer could be seen as him showing Rusak some respect as a fellow ruler of his people, since Rusak would have had to ask or beg for this very thing Lance had offered.

"…Fine," Rusak said at last. His voice was low, bitter. "But this isn’t permanent. We will return."

Lance nodded. "And when you do, we’ll make sure this land is livable again."

After a bit of delay, Rusak bowed his head slightly, the pain running deep as he said to Lance, "Thank You, Lance."