Iron Blooded Hound

Chapter 73 - 72: Tides of Destiny

Chapter 73: Chapter 72: Tides of Destiny

Vikir reflected on the past, a long time ago.

His mind flashed back to the strange outsiders that Balak's hunting party had encountered not too long ago, and the dagger with the serpentine symbol.

'...Come to think of it, that incident happened around this time.

The "incident" is the Red Death.

A terrifying illness that leaves victims covered in red spots, vomiting, and experiencing diarrhea, ultimately leading to death.

The Red Death quickly spread throughout the jungle and claimed a staggering number of natives.

The Red Death raged on a scale that rivaled the Black Death that once plagued the Empire.

This dreaded plague spread out rapidly, venturing far into the Realm's territory.

It was only after the Mortuary's meteorologist, Camus, erected a barrier of fire to halt its spread to the borders of the Empire.

Furthermore, a holy woman, Dolores, sent by House Quavadis of the Sacred Order of the Ceremonies, was able to heal the sick with her extraordinary and powerful sacred powers.

But the cure was limited to the Realm, and the natives living in the depths of the Dark Mountains suffered a death rate of nearly 40%.

These circumstances helped the Baskervilles.

The beast clans played a crucial role in the Red and Dark Mountains' ecosystem, and with them largely gone as hunters, lower-level demons overpopulated, leading to monster waves and a spike in civilian casualties.

The surge in their numbers has increased the influence of the Baskervilles on the border, which has only strengthened Hugo's political position.

"I can't let that happen.

So Vikir planned to stop this plague.

Indeed, he'd heard a good deal about Balak over the years.

Meanwhile.

Inside Balak, the old and the young were in conflict.

The older generation believes that the plague should be appeased by performing rituals, and the younger generation believes that the village should be abandoned and relocated elsewhere.

"..."

Patriarch Aquila frowned and remained silent.

Deep down, she didn't want to leave this town, where her ancestors' graves lie.

And the shaman Ahheman embraced her sentiments.

"How can we abandon this sacred place where our ancestors are buried? This migration is absurd! We have been dwelling here for almost 200 years!"

There are more than 100 ancestors' remains in the sacred sites around the village.

How they would be managed and cared for if they were to move was a major point of contention for Ahheman.

But Aiyen, who represents the younger generation, is not backing down.

"What if the plague returns and kills all the children. Who will take care of our future then? Who will take care of the fate of the clan when the seeds representing the future are gone when we go to collect the remains of our ancestors?"

As it turns out, Balak children do die.

Typically, Balak women start having children at age 14 and give birth to a new child every two years on average, and that means they will have around ten to fifteen children over the course of their life.

The problem is that most of them die within the first month of life. Only about 20% of infants survive past three years.

Most of the children die from malnutrition, childhood diseases, war, and hunting accidents.

Add to that the fact that mothers die during childbirth or from the aftermath of childbirth, and the Balak have a much lower birth rate.

Add the Red Death, and there are no answers. There is only a bleak future ahead.

Unable to bear seeing her clanmates amidst a generational conflict, Aquila spoke up.

"The question is, what path does the Red Death take?"

What is the Red Death, and why does it cling to people?

Unless these questions are answered, making any kind of difference with it is simply impossible.

To Patriarch Aquila's dismay, answers came from all quarters.

"A curse! It must be a curse!"

"Wrong, it is a plague sent through the gaze!"

"It's the spirits of your prey fighting back!"

"It must be because you ate a strange looking mushroom!"

"The ancestors are angry because we have neglected their tomb!"

"There must be a poisonous insect!"

"The gods have abandoned us, the forest gods!"

"The imperials have brought the disease with them!"

People of Balak don't know, but they don't often say they don't know.

They make a virtue out of offering dreadful answers.

It was out of a genuine kindness that he didn't want to discourage the person who had entrusted him with the question in the first place, but... helping wasn't what was happening.

"...Hmm."

Aquila's brow furrowed in confusion.

Quietly, a hand went up.

Vikir's. His eyes met Aquila's and he spoke.

"If there is a way of stopping the Red Death, I know it."

* * *

About ten days passed after that.

Clack, bang, rattle.

A demon tethered to a rope was struggling.

A troll, the smallest and weakest of the demons named similar.

It was now hanging upside down with its arms and legs tied to the ropes, being tortured.

[Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!]

The troll had been thrashing

around for a while, but suddenly it became very still.

Soon, red spots began to appear on the troll's skin.

The troll drooled and vomited, and stopped baring its teeth.

It slowly shivered in anticipation of its impending death.

Meanwhile. Balak's champions threw the subdued troll into a pile of oiled fires and set it ablaze.

There was no room for pity, as the creature was a foul creature that kidnapped and ate human children.

Soon, the troll with the Red Death burned to death.

Then, Balak's warriors directed their focus toward the next troll.

Before them stood Aiyen, holding the troll's ropes.

"Vikir. Is the Red Death truly transmitted through water?"

At her question, Vikir, beside her, nodded.

"Yes, it is. Contaminated water is the main culprit. But as long as you boil the water once, everything is good to go."

"Really? Is that so?"

Aiyen looked up at Vikir with a trusting look.

Then, he took another pot of the same water and dipped another troll in it for comparison.

Then.

[Cackle!]

The troll died instantly.

Vikir put his hand to his forehead.

"When the water cools, we'll put him in."

"Ugh."

Aiyen also slapped his forehead with his hand.

Again, soon, the water in the pot was boiling.

While the boiling water had cooled completely, Balak's champions dipped the trolls into it.

Ten days passed, the incubation period for the Red Death, but the troll did not become sick.

Then, all the champions of Balak, including their clan leader Aquila, exclaimed in shock.

"We have managed to overcome the Red Death!" they exclaimed.

"The solution was in the water."

"You mean just boiling water and drinking it will stop the plague?"

"Vikir, you are a hero of our clan!"

The applause poured in, the vibes of respect and admiration.

The old are truly proud and the young in awe.

Normally, Vikir doesn't like to be the center of attention.

But it is Balak custom to be positive while complimenting or praising, and everyone surrounds him, showering him with praise.

Vikir acknowledges their praise and gratitude with a wave of his hand.

"Anyway. You have to be careful with the water. It can't get in your mouth or eyes. It can also be contagious through the respiratory route, so beware of the water vapor at dawn."

Always boil water before drinking. Avoid wetlands as much as possible.

By following these simple rules, the rate of red death is greatly reduced.

Avoiding contact with the excrement or corpses of the sick is just common sense.

"What don't you be aware?"

Vikir said nothing in response to Aiyen's admiring words.

Aquila spoke up.

"Let the hunting birds spread Vikir's lessons to other clans. Beware of the water."

At that, everyone nodded. It was good for as many people as possible to know these things.

Then Aquila rose from his seat and came to stand before Vikir.

Vikir bowed his head respectfully.

When he'd first met her, he'd felt a sense of gravity, like a vast mountain range weighing down on him.

But now he felt no such thing.

Instead, he felt a sense of warmth, a sense of home, and a sense of empathy, like a true mother's embrace.

Aquila smiled gently.

"Thanks to you, I can see a way out of this crisis, and I thank you sincerely."

One would never recognize this woman as the Night Fox from her recent expression and voice.

In response, Vikir bowed his head.

Then.

"Well, the rainy season is coming soon, so how will you escape from the water?"

Someone addressed Vikir.

The shaman, Ahheman, looked at Vikir with a stony expression on his face.

He had once misdiagnosed a side effect from the drugs the traders had brought as a curse.

When Vikir insisted that the Red Death was not a curse but a plague, and that it could be prevented, he seemed to decide that his position was under threat.

However, he wasn't entirely wrong.

When the rainy season arrives, the rivers will overflow, and countless rains will pour down.

The air would be filled with moisture, and there would be no way to escape the many aquatic creatures that would crawl up to the surface and carry plague.

The protective measures of boiling water for drinking and bathing certainly had their limits.

Balak's warriors scrambled.

Ahheman smiled a smile of conversion as he watched the number of agitated ones grow.

...but.

"The civil works need to be completed before the rainy season arrives."

Vikir, still looking relaxed, was always taking the next step.

Dewatering (flood control).

It was essential for Vikir's potential plans.