Chapter 143
Daydreams Are Made of These
With the removal of Mayor James Hordin from office, Connie found to her fortune that not all members of the town’s administrative function had been tainted. The few that had, were given a chance to redeem themselves by proving that they could do better.
And one of them was to seek a building to her specifications, according to the Medical Books that Kim Sooyoung had provided her. This building would be the place where the Daydreamers would be treated.
Within two days after the announcement, they found a large empty warehouse that used to belong to a large company that had gone bankrupt outside of the town.
It was quickly cleaned, and makeshift beds were placed. The moment that it was opened to the public, chaos ensued. More than two hundred victims were brought in by their family members or friends. So, it was not surprising that when Connie arrived to see the progress that they had made a few days later, she made a deep frown with a puzzled look.
“This is a lot more than I expected,” she commented to the man currently showing her inside.
The man who introduced himself as Hagen Sondt was a middle-aged man with a beard that had its tips singed for once too many times, resulting in a beard that curled every which way, making him look ridiculous. He was also the only Alchemist in town.
The number of Daydreamers was more than the beds prepared, so the ones unlucky enough to be late had to settle with a blanket on the floor. And with so many people huddled together, even with an open window it was unavoidable for the air to carry a sour stench.
“This is only about half of the ones that came here up within these three days. We had to refuse a lot of them so that we could…adhere to your orders,” the man said with a look of appreciation.
“What is it?” Connie said, perturbed by the look from the man.
“Sorry, I did not think that a Noble would care about what happens to the people in a town like this. But here you are! A hero and an example to all Nobles in Calendia.”
“It’s only right to do this,” Connie waved him off.
“Very well, Lady Steelheart,” he said after sending that she did not want to waste any more time.
“Still. I did not expect these numbers. How can there be so many able-bodied men who had fallen to the drug?”
“Because the former Mayor raised the taxes to satisfy his needs, these people needed to work harder, and that is why they had to rely on Azure Dream. And yet, though it was a fast solution, when it wore off, they had to use it again. Some might not even use it because they needed the power it provided. Some used it to feel happy. To forget.”
“That’s really vile.”
“Yes, and it shouldn’t have reached this point. Not if the former Mayor had any human sentiment left,” Hagen said grimly. He then coughed and continued explaining. “We have ten Herbalists treating the Daydreamers with all kinds of herbs that might help. The ones with light symptoms reacted to the treatment that one of our Herbalists made.”
“What kind of treatment?”
“We tried Antidotes, Potions, High Potions that I made myself. Then some medicines the Herbalists made. Then, we found that the ones with light symptoms are best treated with herbs that induced vomiting,” he noticed the movement of Connie’s nose and spoke. “Yes, that’s one of the reasons for the sour smell. The problem is the ones that were more heavily affected…these are the ones that we don’t know how to treat.”
A man then approached them. A tired-looking man with age carved into the wrinkles under his eyes.
“This is Mark Rounds. A personal friend of mine. He’s the first one to answer the call when you ordered us to gather.”
“Better late than never,” the man said with a nigh imperceptible disdain.
“Pardon the man. He’s not normally this way. He’s been treating Daydreamers since a few months back with my help and as you can see, he’s not exactly well-rested.”
Connie smiled with a knowing nod. “You don’t have to like me, Mr.Rounds. As long as we can return these people to normal, I don’t care if you come to dislike me. Now I don’t know much about this sickness. Can you explain it to me?”
The Herbalist blinked once, unsure of what to think about this young woman. Nevertheless, he brought them to a man currently laying on the bed absent-mindedly while his wife was cutting apples for him.
“There are largely two types of Daydreamers that we found. The first is this man here. He had only started taking Azure Dream for a week; thus, he only shows light symptoms of lethargy and loss of appetite,” he said. “But this woman here,” he gestured at a comely woman who was staring into space while her son gazed on with a look of helplessness.
“This woman had been taking the drug for a long time. About two months. People like her just lay there, refusing to work or eat. They become hollow shells unable to even take care of themselves.”
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“Your Ladyship. I want you to look at this,” the old Herbalist brought them to a man who was laying on a bed. His body looked pale and malnourished. Rounds took out a knife and pressed its tip against the man’s skin until it drew a speck of blood.
“…there is no reaction,” Connie said as she rubbed her chin. Connie came over and checked his reflex. “No reaction still.”
She stood back up and regarded the two men. “How about excretions? Defecation and urination?” Connie asked again. The men were surprised at the casual way she spoke of such filthy human needs. “T – they do still have that. However, because they did not move, they often soil themselves. Those with families are better off. Those that are alone…well…”
Connie sighed. Curing poison is harder than poisoning.
“Very well. In that case, I need the recipe for the herbal medicine you gave them. I will try to make a concoction that can help.”
At this, Mark Rounds said. “Pardon me, but I don’t think that amateurs should try to do anything they do not understand.”
“Amateur?” Connie said with a wry smile. “It’s been so long since someone said that to me. I’ll have you understand that I’m an Alchemist.”
“Alchemist?” This time Hagen was the one surprised. “I’ve never heard of you being an Alchemist, Lady Steelheart. Though I do appreciate your help, Alchemy is something one is born with. There is no way someone as well versed in fighting as you is also an Alchemist.”
“…” Connie looked at them. “So, if I show you my ability, you will listen to me?”
Without waiting for his answer, Connie took out a few simple herbs from her Item Ring. “Now watch, and don’t look away. #28: Blasted Gray.”
The herbs in her hands were enveloped in a poison that liquefied them. She then grasped her hand, processing the herbs before slowly opening it, revealing a small pill in the middle of her palm.
“That! That is a Rejuvenation Pill!” Hagen shouted.
“How do you know that?” Connie asked him with a raised eyebrow. She did not expect someone to know about it this far to the South.
“A Hunter friend of mine gave me a bottle of it when he was visiting me! May I…may I try it?”
He then took out a small knife from his coat and slit his palm, letting out a few trickles of blood. Hagen then took the Pill, felt it melt, and enter his body. Within a few seconds, the small wound stopped bleeding and closed perfectly.
Seeing this, Rounds was astonished. “Wh – what? I have never seen something like this!”
Contrary to his friend’s reaction, Hagen laughed. “Incredible. I have never seen Alchemy done so fast, without a cauldron, even! Is this a Skill?”
“You could say that.”
“By Junnaveil’s Grace. The Gods are indeed unfair!” he lamented. “Mark, old friend. You’ve seen Her Ladyship’s ability. Why not follow her orders for now? We have been going blind all these times. Trying something new might do something good.”
Mark Rounds took a deep breath and finally let out a sigh. “Very well. Lady Steelheart. We will support you as much as we can.”
“Very good. Then buck up, you two. There is a long work ahead of us.”
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While Connie was doing her work outside of town, inside the underground jail of the Town’s Guards, Martell was having a conversation with James Hordin. All the prisoners that were in there had been freed with a slap on the wrist, as they were just troublemakers and lay-abouts that were caught during patrol.
The former Mayor was strapped onto a block of wood that had been nailed to the ground. He looked worn and torn. Nowhere you could see the arrogance he had shown when he was at the top of his world.
A knife had been stabbed through his hands and into the block of wood. Martell playfully used his Telekinesis to make the dagger tremble and sing, causing great pain to the former Mayor.
“Please…I’ve told you everything I know…”
“These are paltry things. I’ve found out about these when I was speaking with Mr. Hills,” Martell spoke as he wiped the blood that was on his hand with a cloth. “What I want is info about…Mister B. I believe those men that my Mistress and Zalkhin Altanghazar had taken out were his people.”
“…I’ve never met him. I spoke with him…through a contact.”
“And who is this contact?”
“They…they always change…!” the man spoke with bated breaths. “Never the same person.”
“Then tell us who these people you’ve met were.”
“He’ll…kill me. Mister B will kill me!”
“What difference does it make? If you do not tell me, you will die anyway,” Martell said. “But perhaps…if you give me the information, we can work out something.”
Martell knew better than anyone that the easiest way to coax someone is to dangle the proverbial light of hope in the labyrinth of despair.
To his surprise, however, Hordin’s face stiffened up, and refused to say anything more.
This Mister B…seems to scare him more than I do.
Martell then sat on a stool and looked at the man before him. He took in his personality, his wants, his fears, his desires. After ten minutes of silence, he stood up and decided to take a different approach. He walked before him and looked straight into his eyes with those ominous emerald eyes of his.
“Mr. Hordin. Let me tell you a story when I was a child a few years back,” the boy started.
“An outsider in my village had been caught stealing a ram and was sentenced to hanging by the village elder,” he said playfully. “It was a whole occasion. Pigs were slaughtered, wines were taken out, and the people wore their best clothes. Even my father, who was a coin-pinching bastard, bought me a piece of tiny little candies made of honey, white flowers, and flour. They were like little golden drops from heaven.”
“When afternoon came, the thief was brought to the gallows. He was made to stand on a wagon as the noose was tightened around his neck. The man cursed and fought, but all was in vain. The elder made his usual tirade and then the wagon was drawn.”
Martell placed his hands around Hordin’s neck. He put only the slightest pressure into them while he continued. “The thief flailed his legs around as he made unpleasant noises. The villagers cheered as he started to lose his color and finally went…limp.”
“I did not understand what was happening at the time, but I suppose to the villagers, it was entertainment. The feeling of euphoria as they were made to wield the power of death over another…it must be exhilarating,” Martell let go of his hand as Hordin choked and sputtered. Not because of what Martell did, but because of the imagery that was so vivid in his head.
“And in a few days’ time, you too will become entertainment to the townspeople. They will cheer for you as they watch you die. Just like that thief. And then we will feed you to the dogs. Your bones ground up with oats and used to fatten the crows.”
“No. No!” Hordin was scared of death, but what he was more scared of was the loss of his status, that he would share the fate of those that he killed. To be debased to a mere thief.
After that, Martell took his time with him before coming out of the dungeon.
“Mister Martell,” Brandon Stillson, the oldest man in the Town’s Guards saluted. “Did it go well? I hear the screams stop after the first two hours.”
“It went unexpectedly informative,” Martell closed his eyes a few times to get used to the light outside the dark jail. “I will have to reconvene with the others. This Mister B is not as simple as we thought.”