Warlock of the Magus World Chapter 999
In Leylin's opinion, the famed big shots whether in his past life or the current one all had something in common. Once they determined their target, they would advance with fortitude, possessing absolute faith in their path. Since they'd long since marked their path, they feared nothing, and would be unscrupulous.
In his pursuit of eternity and freedom, Leylin cared not for the lives of the natives.
'All I pursue in this life is eternity. Even if I collapse halfway through and face the backlash from my actions, I'll have no regrets…' A tough glint flashed in Leylin's eyes, proof of his staunch resolution. With such motivation, killing humans, burning cities, and wiping out hundreds of people was a mere sacrifice on his higher path.
The battle between the tribes grew increasingly intense. It had been a long time since anyone came to care for the chief that Leylin had captive. The two sides were blinded by battle, their primary goal to take out their opponent.
People who started battles did not normally know how to end them. During the war, they would slowly forget their initial goals, leading to tragedy.
The Sakartes Empire seemed to have found out about the situation, dispatching a ten thousand strong army to interfere alongside a large group of clerics. It was likely that mediating wasn't their only goal. Precautionary measures or wiping outsiders like Leylin out would be high on their list.
Sadly, the empire's interference ended quickly, having accomplished nothing much. There was no battle, but the grim reaper had descended on them.
En route to the warring tribes, a plague broke out without warning amongst their ranks. It was infectious, and the rate of death was terrifying. In a few days' time, it had spread across the whole army.
With how crowded their army was, and the lack of hygiene amongst the natives, it was difficult to survive the disease without divine healing. The members of the clergy were hard-pressed and overworked, only able to save some of the officers and elites. They had no choice but to watch the ordinary soldiers fester and die. With their limited number of divine spells, what they'd been able to do was already amazing.
In an era of cold weapons, a casualty rate of over 30% was terrifying. This time, the plague had brought an additional psychological pressure with it. Under the threat of death, the army soon forgot its goal. Some even tried to desert!
With more than half the soldiers dead, the army could do little about the runaways. The officers shouted themselves hoarse trying to bring the defectors back and behead them. Truth be told, even a few officers themselves had fled in fear of the plague.
Soon enough, the army completely broke down. The soldiers spread everywhere, bringing the bacteria in their bodies to even further places and spreading the plague more. The natives died in batches, leaving fields overgrown with weeds. The fowl had wandered off.
The plague had reduced the entirety of Debanks Island to tears. It worried the upper class of the empire out of their minds.
For this reason, the upper class in the empire were worried out of their minds, but there was nothing they could do to stop the spread of the plague within the empire. As for the intruders… that wasn't the priority.
After taking care of the external interferences, Leylin began works to completely annihilate the two tribes that fought each other.
Due to the chaos of war and the plague, many of them were infected. Almost 60% of them died out, while the healthy young men had almost all died out.
The effects was that the totem spirits of the two tribes were greatly weakened and were no longer able to obstruct Leylin's attacks.
The totem spirits of these two small tribes were naturally mere divine beings. After taking in their divine force, Leylin sensed that the massacre divinity in his body had increased in strength by a huge degree, and he was getting closer to the threshold that he had to amass up to in order to ignite his godlyflames.
After getting rid of what the two tribes believed in, it was natural that they were taken over.
The remaining people of the two tribes were gathered to establish a whole new town. A large Targaryen statue was erected there.
The natives abandoned their previous faith. After the baptism through prayers and holy water in front of the statue (special potions and vaccines), they sensed that the suffering and ailments they had vanished without a trace. This immediately triggered a zealous wave of faith.
The infectious power from providing help when followers were on the verge of death was something even Leylin had not expected.
Many followers, who had been at their last breath and even had most of their bodies decaying became fervent followers of the winged serpent god after being 'saved' by Leylin. This allowed his strength to increase.
Soon enough, the surrounding tribes got word of the god's abilities to heal the disease. After they were blessed, they brought their entire families here, bringing their wealth and requesting that they could join.
While other totem spirit priests could use divine spells to remove the sickness, the limitations from divine spell slots and divine force meant they could only service the higher-ups, but could do nothing about the ordinary commoners who fled for their lives.
In this situation, even while they could not get even one divine spell from faith in the feathered serpent god, that was already enough to beat faiths in other gods.
Knowing this well, Leylin dispatched his own priests everywhere, bringing holy water and the like to surrounding tribes and declaring his abilities and achievements. That had a very favourable response.
In the face of death, the authorities could do little to stop them.
Groups of natives came and prayed for blessings from Leylin, and soon enough, the town filled up.
Leylin named this town that had been built upon the original two tribes, the 'Hope Stronghold', meaning having new hope. This was also the begin of their conquering the Debanks Island.
Making use of the ability to heal the plague, Leylin now had both faith from the natives and an army. Using a carrot and stick method, his organisation began to expand rapidly…
A year passed.
The winter this year was especially chilly. Snowflakes fell even in the southern seas, coating the island with a white layer.
This was the same for the Debanks Island. The gods seeming to be lamenting over the loss of lives and showed their sorrows. The snow on the continent was extremely thick, and in the memories of the older generation, there had never been snow so terrifying. In an instant, many natives that had not been prepared for this all froze to death.
Though the chilly weather somewhat curbed the spreading of the plague, it could not halt the footsteps of the death god.
From last year onwards, the horrifying plague had unceasingly spread on the island, wiping out whole populations of natives. There was even a dead city that was completely empty! The corpses of the natives filled the insides, and many rats and crows roamed about in houses and on the road, gnawing at everything. Even the wild dogs by the road had bloodshot eyes from eating too much human flesh.
For the natives, the Debanks Island had turned into a hell from the beginning of the previous year.
In this land swarming with starving people, the Hope Stronghold erected by the sea as well as the rumoured feathered serpent god that could do everything were their hopes!
From information via some channels, the god possessed the power of massacring and healing. All faiths would be treated with kindness, and even if they had been infected with the plague, they could still be healed and restore their health.
With the spreading of this intentional 'rumour', huge batches of natives fled towards the Hope Stronghold. No matter what the bigwigs did to stop them, it was pointless.
At the east of Hope Stronghold, nearby a mountain at the Sakartes Empire.
"Hah… persevere. We'll reach the area near Hope Stronghold soon…"
A surge of natives wearing thick fur coats trudged on in the snow with much difficulty. One of them was a young girl who was encouraging her little brother.
"Will we be saved once we get there, Sister Aya?"
The young boy next to Aya looked to be around 14 or 15 years old and also wore a thick fur coat. However, his face was now almost purple from the cold as he spoke while cringing.
"Yes… The totem spirit there is a huge serpent that governs all life. It can remove the sickness…"
Aya kept encouraging her little brother and helped him along, afraid that he would slip amidst the many people around. However, while mindlessly following the procession up ahead, she sank into deep thought.
Recalling what had happened a year ago, it had been like a dream.
A plague had appeared without any warning whatsoever. The infected first had greenish-black spots on their bodies like sesame seeds, and that was followed by low fevers and comas. At this stage, even divine spells by priests were not enough.
At the end, the flesh of the infected would rot and fall off bit by bit. Aya had once seen one like this, and that had left her unable to eat for quite a few days.
The plague had arrived fiercely. At the beginning, it had just been rumours at the borders of the empire, but in a few sunsets' time, had spread to the larger cities.
The high-ranking priests and nobles hid in the altars and prayed hard with blood sacrifices, but that seemed to have no effect.
Other shamans could do nothing.
Soon enough, the plague affected the city Aya was in, causing her to lose all her relatives. All she had left was this little brother of hers.
She had followed the stream of people getting away from the town, unsure of what to do, and rushed towards Hope Stronghold.
While this rumour might only be a lie, this was her last hope!
"I'll definitely bring my brother there safely…"
Aya kept telling herself and prayed, "If the feathered serpent god in Hope Stronghold truly can cure the plague, then please descend and help us! Aya is willing to give up everything…"