Episode 15

After leaving the quarantine facility, the two of them returned to the countermeasure headquarters.

“About the person in charge—Yan, right—he collapsed, but is the headquarters all right?”

“Leave it. A flock of incompetents is better absent than gathered.”

They had expected chaos after the leader’s collapse, yet the staff seemed unexpectedly calm… as if they had grown used to the revolving door at the top.

“…You must be… the ducal party, yes?”

“Don’t lump us in with those people.”

“Ahaha… We came to Apion at their request for cooperation.”

“I see. So young—and already so capable.”

The man who addressed them looked around forty. He seemed to be the new head, succeeding the fallen Yan.

“Forgive the late introduction. I’m Yun, newly appointed to lead the headquarters… Yan, my predecessor, is my elder brother.”

“I knew I’d seen you—explains the useless mug.”

“Sorry, Yun. He—Zeke—isn’t right in the head. Please ignore him.”

Luke let the barb slide as smoothly as breathing—one of the skills he’d picked up over the past three years.

“No offense taken—it’s true enough. In practice, it’s the same no matter who’s in charge.”

The deep exhaustion Yun showed was shared by the others.

Some had pinned hopes on the Astera delegation, but once they learned Ciel’s circumstances, that hope curdled into profound disappointment.

“…We want to investigate the root of this incident. Do you have compiled materials on the victims and the overall timeline?”

“We’ve kept records on patients since the start… but there are too many now; it’s beyond our ability to keep up.”

“That’s fine. Let us see whatever you have.”

“…In that case, please come this way. I’ll show you.”

“This room is the base for the Information Collection Unit, which aggregates reports.”

A large table dominated the center, littered with papers and books. A whiteboard stood crammed edge to edge with writing—evidence of feverish discussion.

“And where is the collection unit now? Out on rounds?”

“No… most of them have fallen to the epidemic. We no longer have enough people to call it a ‘unit.’”

They had thrown their weight behind the response early on, but as victims increased, the unit itself neared collapse—indeed, the entire headquarters staff had dwindled drastically.

“People like you still visit from time to time. When they do, we bring them here like this.”

They no longer had the capacity to shadow visitors and explain everything from A to Z.

“If you need the latest, I can brief you directly… but there won’t be anything useful—only bad news.”

The resignation in Yun’s voice was unmistakable.

“I see… If there’s nothing more, get lost. You’re an eyesore.”

“Zeke! …I’m sorry, Yun. We’ll manage. Please take a short rest.”

Yun staggered away, his back like that of a lifeless undead.

“That was a bit much.”

“We didn’t come for small talk. If there’s no information to gain, it’s a waste of time—for both sides.”

With that, Zeke began skimming the files.
They covered the first to collapse, past illnesses, relationships among victims—data in all directions.

“Age, sex, address, occupation, usual range of movement, even past history… They dug deep.”

“And produced this mess. …Pointless.”

There was no leisure to comb everything. He flipped through at speed.

“There’s a lot here, but the premise is ‘epidemic,’ and the focus feels narrowed by that.”

“…Hey. Look at this.”

“…What is it?”

Zeke handed him a memo—a consolidated victim list.

“Looks like the list from when they hadn’t yet reached a hundred. The numbers spike fast.”

“This ‘Karl Taughton,’ ‘Larc Arn,’ and ‘Rina Garsis’—they’re Church personnel.”

“!? The list only has names… How do you know their jobs?”

“Because there’s a handy sheet over there listing workplaces.”

Luke blinked—he hadn’t seen Zeke compare papers. He must have memorized the first sheet at a glance.

“That part doesn’t matter… There are more.”

Beyond those Zeke named, several Maria Church members appeared on the list.

“That does seem true. But… so what?”

“Mind your words. If it’s an epidemic, you can accept that clergy and medical workers would be struck first. —But if it’s a curse?”

“!? The targets… are being selected!?”

The victim count had passed two hundred—grave, but far from half the population. Seeing a heavy tilt toward specific professions amid that was unnatural.

“This man is Apion’s administrator… these are officials and HQ leads.”

Not only clergy—key town figures were among the victims.

“If it’s random, you could chalk it up to coincidence.”

“If only. That list is arranged by order of collapse. From a sizable resident pool, particular people keep going down… Looks to me like someone’s sweeping the board quickly.”

Zeke marked the memo—Church names, municipal officials, HQ staff.

“This is… a joke. Look—the Etra lord was tossed in the quarantine facility the very day he entered Apion. What is he even trying to do?”

Zeke let out a low, wicked chuckle—anyone but Luke would have recoiled.

“So you’re saying it’s less ‘shared traits’ and more ‘intended targets’ falling?”

“It’s nastier than that. The odds are high there’s a malicious hand behind the curse.”

He snorted—You’ve underestimated us.

If the targets were specified so blatantly, the caster was either supremely confident, desperate to end it quickly, or… something else.

“If you can fine-tune targets, that’s dangerous. If it’s human-wrought sorcery, what’s the goal?”

“No idea.”

Curses came in kinds: some human-made, some arising naturally from layers of the dead’s grudges. With sorcerers and monsters who specialized in hexcraft, pinning a cause down was never simple.

“There’s no need to understand trash thinking. …But the next targets—”

“Ciel-sama and her group! Then we should warn them.”

“No need. It’s a good chance to watch how the enemy moves.”

Ciel’s party had only visited HQ and the quarantine facility since arriving. That limited who knew of them, which meant they could narrow suspects. Even if it didn’t go smoothly, the test would lend weight to Zeke’s hypothesis.

“Use them as bait!? If we can save even one more person— No… you mean that even if we knew, we couldn’t do anything.”

“If the caster can freely pick targets, we can serve as bait too.”

How were targets chosen and the curse applied? Zeke meant to use even himself as lure to trace the source.

“If they cringe before the ducal house, that’s a hassle. We need them to know we’re watching.”

“Gauge the reaction. If we mobilize the town to hunt for traces… we’d just cause a panic.”

“That’s fine. If it’s human-made, it’s a matter of time. …The Church should have anti-curse amulets. Hand them to the residents and force a march.”

The thinking was devilish—a talent he seemed born with. Even a layman would be stunned seeing townsfolk parade with amulets held high.

“Silence the ones who screech. If some refuse, use the ducal woman to rally them.”

“Hard to tell who the villain is at that point… Still, the amulets are a good idea—even if it’s only for show.”

What am I even doing?

I have always acted as I was told. So as not to trouble anyone. So as not to disappoint anyone.

A counterfeit who couldn’t use divine arts. I had worked—thought I had worked—to one day become the real thing. But no matter how long I tried, I remained false; never true.

I wanted to change but couldn’t. In time, all I wished was to trouble no one—and to vanish for someone’s sake.

A boy about my age. Sure of himself, strong, firm in who he was. Why were we so different?
Our births differed, but we were both nobles. He would one day inherit a lordship—did he feel no fear?

I had disappointed him. He looked at me with the same eyes the true-born used. I don’t understand. I don’t, I don’t…

Even so, I have to go. If I disappear, then surely…

—Because that is my role.