Chapter VI - Ichor

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Contrary to his estimates, Leonardo’s hopes were dashed in the same day he started to work on a remedy.

He took a small risk to assess the disease, and if his Fortuna Dharma was of any use — there was some serious curse folk magic involved. Unlike fluid true magic the awakened use based on their comprehension of reality, folk magic was rooted in tradition. Linear rituals though they were, they still packed a powerful punch in the right conditions.

He didn’t know much about this curse, but from what he guessed it was a plague linked to the caster from afar. He cured dozens of people in a short amount of time, and eradicated the curse directly instead of clearing it out of the body as a cough would. This drew the attention of the caster, who triggered a heightened version of the disease from afar.

It probably couldn’t be accomplished en masse fortunately, or perhaps the conditions were too stringent. Either way, he was very thankful, otherwise there wouldn’t be enough coffins to go around.

As it currently stood, the heightened virus was running amok in his system — although it was not controlled by the enemy caster. With Muchen’s spell, he got a few days of extension before total immune failure.

Leo didn’t have the means of purging the virus with magic, because it both risked a karmic backlash and attracting the enemy. He barely got rid of their senses the last time, and that dried the entirety of his will and energy.

“I’m fucked, aren’t I…” Leonardo lamented for the umpteenth time.

A set of unclear glassware beakers were strung in a row, each containing various fruit pulp mixed with herbal extracts. A small torch burned to the side, illuminating the damp cellar.

Even with the encyclopedia of information and a fairly modern lab, Leonardo found himself pretty stumped. The best he achieved was compounding a few immune boosters or medicine that relieved his breathing.

He had grown reliant on magic over the years, and it felt horrible to struggle with mundane tasks. He grew irate and impatient, much like an addict going through withdrawal. Perhaps worse, because his life hinged on the line.

“This is going nowhere,” he groaned, hurling a new mixture into the trash, “FUC—”

Before he could vent a stream of expletives, the door swung open and Yuki waltzed in. Unwilling to curse in front of her, he could only force in a long breath.

“Mister Chimente is here,” she said directly, perhaps noticing his impatience, “Please, you should take a break afterwards, you’ve been in the lab for 36 hours…”

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“I’m not tired,” he retorted, hobbling to the exit with her help, “not physically, anyhow.”

Rubbing his eyes as he came out into the sun, he realized it was already evening of the second day. While his body wasn’t impaired, his mind was fatigued for sure.

“Dear Lord, what’s happened to you!?” Chimente leaped to his feet with uncharacteristic speed.

“You’ll sprain something, old man. Relax,” he forced a smile as he sat across from him, “I’ll be fine… I think.”

“Did you summon a doct-…” the man was about to suggest, before reminding himself that Leo is the best there is in town, “Ah, never mind. What do you need from me?”

“I need a few letters sent. I’d normally forward them through the Baron, but he apparently didn’t want to hear Bruno out. See if you can bribe the military camp and send some pigeons from their post. Also… I’m going to need a crew.”

“A crew? What for?” he almost gasped in surprise.

“There’s a ship I captured a few days earlier. It’s a small caravel docked in a Malta cove. The old crew were pirate scum, had a whole enslaved camp. You’ll need to handle this tomorrow at the latest, there’s a bunch of women there. I promised them help days ago…”

“If that’s the case, I can probably sail with some of my own mates. We’ll find a reliable crew later.”

“Yeah, that’d be for the best,” Leonardo admitted after some thought.

“Do keep the women in the dark about your origins. Just drop them in Sicily. Make sure they don’t know of Malta. There’s a noble among them I got in conflict with.”

Naturally, he wouldn’t mention the inquisition ties, but he trusted Chimente to do a good enough job of escorting the victims.

“Here’s a map and additional instructions. Pass the gold to them upon arrival.”

Passing an envelope and a paper rolls over, he sighed in relief.

‘Hopefully they had enough food and water to last them a week.’

“What about the letters?” Chimente asked, intrigued by sealed correspondence.

“It’s news about the plague. Everything I found out more or less, to be delivered in each of the port cities across the Sicilian coast and the Kingdom of Naples.”

Since his informants found about the source of the plague, namely the fruits from the Portuguese ship, Leonardo decided to warn the other nobles in the name of Daedalus Astula. Their reputation spread quite far in the past five years, so it’ll at least arise some caution.

Chimente had told him about the fleet he encountered. There were shipments headed for at least 7 ports, assuming they unloaded the entire cargo at the same time. However, Leonardo suspected they would make additional stops, which would worsen the spread exponentially.

In the letter, other than identifying the source, the master of Daedalus Astula suggested they arrest the ships from the foreign fleet. Whether it was a coordinated act of war or a mistake, he wasn’t sure, but an investigation wouldn’t hurt.

He didn’t mention anything about the curse or the shaman caster, and merely pointed out the obvious characteristics of the plague.

Once the fruits were ingested orally, the disease wound up in the bloodstream, infecting the heart and lungs primarily. It spread to secondary targets afterwards through coughs. However, the curse was weakened significantly in second rate patients and it wasn’t much worse than a flu. The curse completely disappeared by the third cycle of spread.

That said, even a flu was very deadly in those times, so it made little difference to the peasants. Getting infected would very likely spell their death.

The survival rates weren’t promising at all.