"Bertha Hopkins passed away over four minutes ago due to a rapid aggravation of her symptoms," explained Physician Gordon as he hurriedly led them to the basement. The hallways warped as they traveled as Governor Loveless, worried about the implications this might have for his daughter, actively manipulated the space around their group. "It's difficult to say exactly what went wrong as everything happened so quickly. Her body is currently being prepared for autopsy by Physician Olivander. The priests have been notified and will cremate the body once the examination is complete."

"There must be some clues to be found," said the governor. "There must."

"Please calm down, governor," said Sorin. "Physician Gordon, I realize everything happened quickly, but that is just from your point of view. Please be more specific about the patient's symptoms before and after the sudden aggravation, as well as attempted treatment methods and any further complications."

Even if you know, what will it matter?

Physician Gordon calmed down and reported everything he knew. "One minute, the patient was deteriorating at a predictable rate. Her organs were on a steady downward trend. Then, out of nowhere, her oxygen levels fell sharply. Her kidneys stopped functioning, and her small intestine suddenly began necrotizing. We tried supporting her vitals with life mana for three minutes before her heart gave out. All attempts at resuscitation failed.

"That doesn't make sense," muttered Sorin. "That doesn't make any sense at all. Half of those conditions should be impossible under the effects of Six-Foot Slumber. Her oxygen levels shouldn't have tanked so quickly since her heart rate was being maintained at one beat per five seconds. In fact, heart failure should have been impossible in the first place."

"Physician Olivander said the same thing," said Physician Gordon. "She suspects Miss Hopkins' situation is unique—perhaps a heart anomaly or something similar. Only an autopsy will confirm this with certainty."

"We can't assume her situation is unique," the governor said. Physician Sorin, I'll have to trouble you to join Physician Olivander in performing the autopsy." His concern was obviously less about the maid and more about the implications for his daughter.

Fortunately, this suited Sorin perfectly. "Take me to the body. We'll know for certain soon enough." Physician Gordon led them down to the basement, where the servants were quartered. The small quarters were currently compartmentalized according to condition. Thus far, Bertha Hopkins was the only casualty of this mysterious illness. Whether or not more would follow her was to be determined.

The temperature dropped from a comfortable twenty-five degrees centigrade to just above freezing as Sorin entered the examination room. This temperature was optimal for preserving cadavers without freezing them. As a fortunate side effect, the cold would also slow the rate at which death mana was produced, allowing several corpses to be gathered before a priest of Hope came by to cremate them.

In this case, there was only a single cadaver. Bertha's body had been disrobed, cleaned, and cut open. Physician Olivander, who was wearing a full set of protective gear, was currently removing key internal organs for inspections. Sorin watched the process with cold, dispassionate eyes, only interrupting every so often to get a closer look at key abnormalities.

"This disease is proving quite troublesome," said Physician Olivander as she used a sharp scalpel to cut a circular incision around the cadaver's skull. "It affects mortals, blood thickening, and bone-forging cultivators in a similar fashion. The only difference I've observed so far is the potency and speed at which it affects the targets. Current case excluded, mortals deteriorate three times as fast as blood-thickening cultivators, while blood-thickening cultivators deteriorate twice as quickly as Bone-Forging cultivators."

"The ratio is startling," agreed Sorin.

"Isn't it natural for non-cultivators to be affected more quickly than cultivators?" said Physician Olivander.

"I'm not saying the existence of a ratio is unusual," said Sorin. "Rather, I'm pointing out that the ratio is extremely low. Cultivators are typically immune to mortal illnesses, but that's not because they aren't exposed to the diseases. Instead, their immune systems are so strong that these diseases are orders of magnitude less effective against them. That's why most people believe higher-realm cultivators to be immune to lower-realm illnesses. Conversely, a disease that takes ten days to kill a Bone-Forging cultivator would kill a mortal within minutes."

"The fact that it doesn't definitely complicates things," agreed Physician Olivander. "I can't think of a single disease that fits both these symptoms and its effectiveness against humans of varying cultivation realms."

"Delphi's disease bank came up blank," said Sorin. "Elder Nolan of the Kepler Clan and President Digory of the Pandoran Medical Association did as well."

You know who you haven't asked? Me. I hold all the answers, Sorin. Simply accept a little more corruption, and everything will be revealed.

Physician Olivander was a competent and efficient surgeon. After finishing up with her torso, she moved to Bertha's skull and twisted the top clean off. "There are dark gray spots on her cerebral cortex," she observed, then prodded the brain slightly. Consistency is normal. That brings us to what? A combination of four or five illnesses?"

"Five or six, " agreed Sorin. "But her immune system appears to be intact. It's the same for all the other patients I've inspected."

Physician Olivander sighed. "I was hoping the autopsy would show some hints about what's going on. Instead, it's muddied the waters." Frustrated, the physician took off her gloves and threw them onto the body. "The priests have just arrived. Unless you want to take a closer look, I'll have them burn the body immediately."

Sorin had already seen everything he needed to, so he didn't stop Physician Olivander from opening the door and welcoming two white-robed priests carrying a lantern. Both physicians observed closely as the priests poured white fire on the body to cremate its flesh and bones. Once every trace of the body was gone, they pulled the white fire, just a little stronger than before, back into the lantern.

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

The eldest among the two shook his head at Physician Olivander. "Corruption of the body is within reasonable limits."

"Including Disease?" asked Physician Olivander.

"Including Disease," confirmed the older priest. "All forms of corruption were well-balanced. In terms of absolute numbers, we're talking five percent of the lethal dose for a mortal." It was a low number for a mortal resident in an outpost. Physician Olivander's nod of dismissal indicated that she thought the same.

"I heard you were looking into the outpost's case history," said Physician Olivander. "Did you find anything of note?"

"Nothing," said Sorin. "A preliminary search of local flora and fauna hasn't revealed anything either."

All the more reason for you to look past the obvious. Unless you'll wait until the situation spirals under control before requesting my aid?

"Speaking of the outpost's case history, I also looked at the emergency response plan. I've noticed that there are deficiencies in the epidemic prevention portion."

"Not for lack of trying," Physician Olivander said. "We've been on the governor's case for the past decade, ever since that encounter with a Spiked Plague Warden that found its way into our sewers."

"Any particular reason?" asked Sorin.

"We were fortunate to respond quickly enough to prevent too many deaths," replied Physician Olivander. "As a result, the severity of the situation was downplayed, and our recommendations were ignored."

Physician Sorin sighed. "it's only when disaster strikes that policies are changed."

"Do you think we'll lose control?" asked Physician Olivander. "It seems that everything is properly contained so far."

"It's only a possibility," said Sorin. "The existing quarantine protocols are sufficient for most illnesses, and there have been no reports of additional cases in the city."

"It's something to think about," and Physician Olivander. "I'm sure the governor will be very receptive to any changes proposed after we pull through this." Like Sorin, Phsycian Olivander was confident about resolving the situation. As three-star physicians dealing with a two-star illness, they had good reason to be confident. All they needed was a bit of time.

Once the priests were gone, Sorin helped Physician Olivander look over the other afflicted patients. Their number had grown to thirty, and each of them had been poisoned with Six Foot Slumber to slow the encroachment of their symptoms.

Sorin was relieved to see that despite being too numerous, the symptoms were consistent. If they weren't, it would be even more difficult to identify the illness and formulate a response plan.

After finishing his rounds, Sorin returned to the main floor to find the governor impatiently pacing. "How is it?" asked the demigod.

"I still don't have enough information," said Sorin. "Fortunately, the illness is well contained. Symptom aggravation is slow thanks to the early application of Six-Foot Slumber, especially in the case of cultivators. I believe there is more than enough time to discover the cause of this illness and formulate a cure.

Governor Loveless let out a sigh of relief. "That's good. That's very good. About your request for rare poisonous ingredients, I remember having seen half a dozen of them tucked away in the vault. I will have them retrieved and delivered to you."

"That would be very helpful," said Sorin. Sorin would normally refuse an offering from a desperate parent, but given the situation, it was best if he could grow his poison repertoire as soon as possible. "I'll be heading to the General Hospital now, Governor. With luck, Astley will have discovered some useful information."

He turned towards the door and was surprised to discover that a small argument had broken out just outside. The governor noticed this as well and directly ripped the door off his hinges. Threads of mana pulled six people into the room and threw them on the ground with a crash.

"There had better be a good explanation for this," said Governor Loveless. "I made it quite clear that I am not to be bothered unless it's very important."

"That's what we said," said one of the two guards posted outside. He was a Flesh-Sanctification cultivator and a high-ranking member of the city guard, yet despite this, the governor effortlessly tossed him about like a ragdoll. "Anything happening in the merchant district can be handled by anyone else."

Sorin perked his ears. He felt a tugging from these words, along with a faint karmic connection. So you noticed it. Well done. "The merchant districts?" Sorin said to the guard. What's going on there?"

"It was nothing at first," said the guard, picking himself up. "A few cases of food poisoning is all. Some instances of heat stroke.

"But then a few people fainted all at once. Just fell to the ground and couldn't get up. We thought it was a joke at first or an insurance scam—they happened to pass out right in front of a moving cart. We went to give them a thrashing, but it turns out they'd actually fainted. I mean, what kind of sick joke is that?"

Sorin frowned. "They fainted? Were they pale?"

"They were," confirmed the guard. "So, we thought that maybe it was more of that same food poisoning that landed people in the hospital. Some stragglers from that group of five at a steakhouse the night before.

"We took them to the hospital. The doctor was flexible and examined them. Said it was a case of Freckle Fever. Cause of the red spots on their chest."

Sorin's heart dropped. "Red spots on their chest? Did the hospital admit them? Did they report upward?"

"They didn't; they just sent them home with some medicine," said the guard. "Anyway, we put that out of mind and went back to work. Didn't think much of it until an hour ago when an older man collapsed. We thought he'd fainted, but we were surprised to find out he was dead. Right there on the street! A half-hour later, we found another one, which was when I realized that escalating this might be a good idea. Worst case, I'd get a tongue lashing, but better safe than sorry."

Governor Loveless's complexion grew increasingly pale as the guard smoke. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore. The fearsome demigod who commanded absolute power in the Mildred Outpost put his hand on his chest and fell to one knee."

"Governor?" said Sorin, not daring to approach the unstable demigod. "We need to act quickly. Can you manage?"

The governor took a deep breath and rose to his feet. "Apologies, gentlemen. I lost my composure momentarily. I don't believe there's a need to mention what just happened just now to anyone, is there?"

"Mention what?" said one of the manor guards. "I didn't see anything."

The governor turned to Sorin. "It seems things are much worse than we originally thought. Judging from the description, the illness appears to be spreading around the marketplace."

Sorin nodded. "Aeris was visiting Fleet Street when we first encountered her. Perhaps she contracted the illness then instead of later?"

"My thoughts exactly," said the governor. "Which means countless people may already be infected."

"I recommend putting the city on full lockdown," said Sorin. "Whatever this disease is, it spreads and kills quickly. There's no time to be wasted."

"I'll alert the people to evacuate to the shelters immediately," said Governor Loveless.

"Not to shelters," interrupted Sorin. "If we did that, we'd only increase the rate of spread."

"Then…"

"Quarantine the entire market district," said Sorin. "No one moves in or out. All hospitals should look out for additional cases. Any locations where a case is discovered should also be locked down."

To his credit, the governor only hesitated for a few seconds before making up his mind. "You heard the man! Have Commander Muller come see me right away!"

"At once, sir!" said one of the manor's Flesh-Sanctification guards. He rushed out the broken entrance and shot a bright ball of mana in the air as a signal before flying at full speed towards the Southern Guard House where Commander Muller was stationed.