Plague Of Depravity (2)

Good news about a plague cure spread across the continent that had felt on the verge of exploding. Unlike during the previous Benialis incident, the continent’s people dared to hope.

Divine Messenger Kim Han. He stepped forward.

The divine envoy who pleaded with his patron god for mercy on behalf of the continent’s people.

A representative who cared for the continent’s people more than any representative in history.

The divine messenger, famed across not only Exorsus but the entire continent for his chivalry and largesse, began to distribute the cure.

The cures he sold cost 5 gold and 10 gold each — roughly 500,000 and 1,000,000 won in Korean currency.

It was not a small sum, but after Benialis had already turned things into chaos, Kim Han’s medicine felt absurdly cheap.

People flocked to the magic towers to buy the medicine.

The 5-gold medicine came in a large 1.2L bottle; taking 100mL morning and evening for six days cured the disease.

The 10-gold medicine, by contrast, cured the drinker instantly.

People mostly gave the 5-gold dose to riding horses or important livestock, and, unless they were poor commoners, most bought the 10-gold remedy.

Moreover, Kim Han publicly promised refunds if the medicine had no effect.

That showed his confidence in the cure, but it was also said that the Divine Messenger urged that charging for an ineffective cure would only worsen commoners’ hardships.

As if brainwashed, mages kept repeating Kim Han’s words whenever calculating purchases.

People kept gathering at the magic tower branches across the Battlefield of the Gods continent.

Unlike before with Benialis, there was no need to travel to the Holy Realm Alliance to buy the medicine; one could purchase it directly in each domain.

The problem was the medicine’s effectiveness.

Was it not as ineffective as with Benialis?

No. The problem was that it cured almost everyone.

Not only that, rumors spread that chronic ailments people had long suffered improved slightly, leading many to stockpile the medicine.

However,

“The Divine Messenger Kim Han has worked without rest making the medicine since the plague first broke out, so supplies are limited. If you want to buy it as a staple, please wait a moment.”

Mages framed the message with a pleading tone — and a surge of mana — so even nobles had no choice but to turn away.

That decision by the divine messenger earned even more praise from most of the continent’s people.

In terms of profit they could have sold at a premium to nobles, but he refused for the sick, and people admired that.

But this was a little amusing.

In truth, representatives normally don’t care much about the currency used on the Battlefield of the Gods.

Of course: winning on the Battlefield of the Gods grants rewards greater than money.

Besides, if you lose and die, what use is money? Just having enough is sufficient.

But as said, because Benialis had done something terrible first, Kim Han appeared all the more virtuous and incorruptible by comparison.

They say those who can’t succeed won’t even if they try, and those who can will succeed no matter what.

Benialis, who had done nothing, fell further into disgrace, while Kim Han, who at least released the cure, prospered.

Dark Empire Intelligence Bureau.

The usually quiet bureau was now bustling as if a beehive had been disturbed.

Magic communication crystals flashed constantly while someone recorded the messages.

Someone precariously carried a stack of documents about the height of a grown man’s seated torso.

Someone shouted somewhere, and others were flinging papers as they desperately searched for something.

“Hurry. Is it far off?”

“Checking! Five minutes, five minutes and it’s done.”

“That damned ‘five minutes’! You bastard, that’s the sixth time!”

“This time it’s certain.”

Such curses flew everywhere. What on earth was happening?

The incident began about three days earlier — a week since Benialis had sold a ridiculous cure dearly, taken all the blame, and then gone into hiding.

It was two days after Divine Messenger Kim Han began selling an affordable and perfect cure.

A single letter was delivered to the Intelligence Bureau.

The envelope itself was unusual: it boldly read, “To the Director of the Dark Empire’s Intelligence Bureau.”

The recipient printed on the envelope was notable, and it had arrived at a rare quiet moment.

The letter made its way up to the relatively high-ranked team leader, who read it, leapt up, and rushed to the director’s office.

And from the next day until three days later — that is, now — the bureau remained in turmoil.

So what did the letter say?

-I saw the beings spreading the plague. They sprinkled a black liquid into village wells and across villages, then entered the Amor temple.

A short note, if anything.

But the shocking message flipped the Intelligence Bureau upside down and was secretly relayed only to the Dark Empire’s emperor.

It was natural the emperor flew into a rage.

For the following three days not a single intelligence agent went home.

Director’s office of the Intelligence Bureau.

“I hope you caught something today. Report.”

“……”

Bang!

“Damn it! Have you lot been taking it easy lately?”

“We apologize!”

“Hey, team leader one — does saying ‘sorry’ mean your career’s over?”

“No!”

“Team leader two, does saying sorry mean your career’s over?”

“Sorry!”

“Team leader three, I asked if saying sorry means your career’s over!”

“…No, sorry.”

The director’s berating continued.

Is there really a correct answer to that question?

If there is, it would be to boldly say, ‘Yes, I’m done!’ and hand in your resignation, wouldn’t it?

Just as the reprimand was in full swing, the director’s office door flung open.

“Director!”

“What!!”

“It’s come again, again!”

“You bastard! What else has come?!”

Already frustrated by the lack of progress, the director, furious at the employee’s abrupt words, almost hurled his teacup as he demanded an explanation.

“A- a letter!”

“What?”

The teacup the director had picked up rolled on the floor, but no one in the office cared.

All eyes were on the blue envelope the employee held.

“Bring it here.”

“Yes!”

The director carefully opened the letter and read the short note several times, then laid it on the desk with a look of helplessness.

The five team leaders gathered, putting their heads together to read the letter.

Just in case, he sent the evidence footage he filmed to Divine Warrior Kim Han.

One single line, as if anticipating the bureau’s trouble, even stated where the materials were stored.

But the sender was Divine Messenger — someone no one could rob, the figure now praised by the entire continent.

Indeed, the director preferred the Divine Messenger to the Demon god’s representative, so there was no need to say more!

“What… should we do about this?”

The team leaders knew that speaking first might be no gain at best and would mean taking the blame if things went wrong, so of course no one answered.

“Speak up. I’ll reflect it strongly in your evaluations.”

“……”

“Damn it, fine! I’ll do it, I’ll do it! You filthy bastards, out!”

The director, thoroughly agitated, ordered a magic communication and hurried to the imperial palace.

That evening, movement was detected at the Dark Empire warp gate: the envoy party last seen around this time a year ago was traveling.

The Dark Empire’s envoy requested a visit, even politely asking for an available date in advance.

A definitely different attitude than before.

Knowing the reason for their change made it all the more surprising.

Finally, they arrived.

They looked much the same as before: the same fellow led them, and others wore dark robes, making them indistinguishable.

He was the same he, she the same she, so to speak.

“So, what’s the matter? If it’s medicine, it’s all been handed to the magic towers; I have none left.”

“Ah…! Is that so?”

He actually seemed regretful. Even though that wasn’t their original purpose, were they thinking they’d take advantage if they could?

“Okay, but what is it?”

“Well… a while ago a tip arrived at our Intelligence Bureau. It was about those behind the plague.”

“What?!”

He jumped to his feet and shouted at the envoy.

His hands trembled and his eyes were wide; to an observer he’d seem shocked and agitated.

Had our rough ruse worked, or did they never suspect I, their representative, would be acting?

The envoy leader sighed and spoke.

“We were surprised too. But the tip said they sent a crystal storage containing video evidence to Divine Messenger…”

“A crystal storage for video… Recently we’ve received many such crystals along with thank-you letters, so it’ll take time to search through them…”

He trailed off, pretending to worry while stalling.

Then the men in black robes behind him shuffled forward and brought something heavy.

“This is a gift from His Majesty the Dark Empire’s emperor to the Divine Messenger, who handled this plague.”

“What is all this… There’s nothing left behind this time, right?”

“…Haha. O- of course.”

‘Expected.’

[Force Elixir] ×3

Using it increases Force divine power by 30.

However, Force must be awakened.

[Spirit Elixir] ×3

Using it increases Spirit divine power by 30.

However, Spirit must be awakened.

[Mana Elixir] ×3

Using it increases mana divine power by 30.

However, mana must be awakened.

[Fire Elemental Stone] ×3

[Water Elemental Stone] ×3

[Wind Elemental Stone] ×3

[Earth Elemental Stone] ×3

[Red Dragon Hide]

“Oh?”

“Do you like it?”

He liked it very much. Rubbing his palms, he answered the Dark Empire envoy’s question honestly this time.

“Yes. This is too generous… What do you think, Lee Hyo-ju?”

“Yes!”

“How long will it take to find the video crystal?”

“They keep coming nonstop, and most personnel are inspecting for explosives or hazardous contents, so even if we pull some staff to search, it will take at least a week…”

“Aha! Ask the representatives if you must — resolve it in three days, within three days.”

“Understood.”

After confirming Lee Hyo-ju left the reception room, he asked the Dark Empire envoys where they were staying; they replied they were at the Black Tower.

“Then I’ll find it within three days and personally send someone to the Black Tower to deliver it. It seems important.”

“Th- thank you. Truly, thank you.”

“All right, go.”

“Yes, then.”

Of course it’s not the kind of thing that should take long to find; it’s stored separately.

But when he showed reluctance and said it would take long, they hurriedly unveiled their entire cache.

Hazel had said they might bring it in two leisurely days and then expect more gifts if given the chance.

“Honestly, who would’ve thought that grim-faced block could have such a knack?”

Two days later, after handing over the video crystal, the White Tower Master gleefully received one ton of mithril stored at the Black Tower into a magic pouch.

When asked why he was so pleased to get mithril, the White Tower Master replied,

“Oh my, what are you saying. Who would like such impure mithril? Ha. I just felt good seeing that smug Black Tower Master’s face turn sour.”

The White Tower Master recounted his boastful tale to the mages, and the manor was cheerful for a while.

Two days after that, the full extent of what Benialis had done was spread across the Battlefield of the Gods continent.

Citizens of the Dark Empire and Exorsus harshly criticized the Holy Realm Alliance.

The Holy Realm Alliance, including the Amor temple, initially denied it vehemently, but the evidence was so clear it only stirred public outrage further.

They hastily claimed they had nothing to do with Benialis.

The clearest evidence was the documents shown in the recorded footage: it listed alchemists’ names and, it turned out, the hyped-but-ineffective medicine sold under Benialis’s name matched the ingredients and effects exactly.

Moreover, even accounting for materials and alchemists’ labor, the production cost per bottle was at most 5 gold.

Calls to denounce Benialis and vilify Amor echoed across the Battlefield of the Gods.

Depravity.

Because the divine envoy who represented the goddess of love had spread the plague, people began to call Benialis a ‘corrupt depraver.’

A depraver, the corrupt depraver Benialis.

They began calling the plague he spread on the Battlefield of the Gods the ‘plague of depravity’ and the incident made two representatives famous.

One was Benialis.

The other was Kim Han, known as the Divine Messenger.

From that day on he began to be called Exemplary Messenger, meaning ‘Strong, genuine, concentrated chivalry.’

Exemplary Messenger Kim Han.

But when the man himself, Kim Han, heard the news, he flew into a rage.

The legion members looked at him oddly, and only Lee Hyo-ju snickered…