This Plague Must Never Reach Us
A faint high-pitched howling rang out in the sky, causing disturbance to ripple across the camp.
"There!" a woman shouted while pointing toward the southern sky.
Noah squinted up from where he was tying his boots.
A trail of dark purple cloud streaked through the sky like an arrow dipped in poison. It curved unnaturally, whipping through the air with speed that made Noah's stomach twist.
"What the hell is that?" he muttered aloud.
The sky-trail was moving fast, heading right for them.
A murmur spread like fire across the camp.
Dozens stopped what they were doing and turned to the sky with dread. The fearful murmur exploded into full-blown panic in seconds.
"It's a corrupted cultivator!"
"Run! RUN!"
"Hide the kids! Hide the damn kids!"
The camp burst into chaos. People scrambled over each other, scattering in every direction like terrified ants. Packs were abandoned, water bottles flung, and some even dropped to their knees sobbing.
Noah felt like his senses were supposed to be tingling or something since he got the Plague Sense from the system but...
He sensed nothing.
No pulsing, no tingling, no instinctual alarm going off in his brain.
'Just got this system and it's already busted?' Noah grumbled internally as he also jumped to his feet with the others.
The purple streak hit the sky above them and suddenly slowed. It swirled into a vortex of light and energy, and a figure burst through, descending rapidly.
He slammed into the dirt with a resounding thud causing dust to explode outward.
Refugees flinched and ducked for cover.
From the dust stepped a tall and broad-shouldered man, dressed in dark green robes with silver linings. His hair was tied in a regal topknot, and the faint aura surrounding him crackled like restrained lightning.
Noah didn't even need to guess... this guy was strong.
However, there were no marks or purplish glowing eyes like one would expect.
Which only meant one thing... this person wasn't infected.
Noah instinctually relaxed upon realising why no alarm bells went off in his head.
Even through he wouldn't know what to expect, he was sure he would have still felt something if this person was infected.
But no one else knew that.
A few paranoid refugees tried to react immediately. One hurled a rock. Another charged with a spear made from tree branch.
The man on the other hand, didn't show a single trace of panic or distraught.
In a single motion, he disarmed three attackers and drove a fourth into the ground with a firm, shoulder-slamming blow.
They screamed in pain.
"I AM NOT ONE OF THOSE THINGS!" the man roared with a tone of authority.
"Touch me again and you will regret it!"
Everyone froze.
His aura burst outward like a rolling wave of thunder, sweeping through the camp.
Noah felt the ground beneath him vibrate. Several people dropped to their knees without meaning to.
One especially bold man tried to sneak up behind him with a rusted knife and stabbed forward with strength.
The cultivator grabbed his arm without turning around and snapped it like dry twigs.
Crack!
"ARGHH!"
The attacker dropped to the ground, screaming.
The cultivator slowly turned around, placed a single hand on the man's shoulder and forced him into a kneel.
"I didn't come here to fight," he growled. "But if anyone dares attack me again... you will all pay the price."
The silence afterward was deafening.
Then, with a calmer tone, the man added, "Now… someone get me water. I've been flying for hours, and that technique dries my throat worse than desert sand."
Nobody hesitated. Three people scrambled toward their packs. One woman nearly spilled hers while pouring the water into a bamboo gourd.
He drank it all in one go and exhaled like a dragon.
"Much better."
From the crowd stepped a weathered man in merchant robes with his beard streaked with gray and his eyes sharp.
Noah recognized him. The guy had been one of the more vocal organizers since they'd fled Verdant Flame. Word was he used to be a spice trader.
"Name's Fang Rykar, honored friend" the man voiced respectfully. "You scared the piss out of half the camp. Would this honored friend mind telling us who you are?"
The cultivator nodded.
"I'm not just any traveler," he stated. "I am Envoy Seirin of Iron Thorn Province."
Rykar raised a brow. "The Iron Thorn? That's… far north. You came all this way?"
"I was sent on behalf of King Jian, with a diplomatic message for Verdant Flame City," Seirin explained. "But what I found when I arrived…"
---
(( FLASHBACK ))
The skies had been unusually quiet when Seirin first soared into the border zone surrounding Verdant Flame.
He had expected grandeur: imperial flags fluttering, sect disciples training in courtyards...
He had expected to see a city bustling with flame-imbued pride.
Instead…
He saw smoke.
Not from chimneys. But from uncontrolled and unchecked flames rising in thick columns from multiple places in the city.
The golden towers were cracked and some were already half-collapsed.
"What happened here? An attack?" He muttered in confusion.
The closer he flew, the worse it got.
A stench hung in the air like burning rot, corrupted blood, and something fouler...
The qi in his core seemed to be trembling and he didn't know why.
Then came the black mist.
It coiled at the gates like a living thing, stretching lazily toward him as if it knew he was there. And he could feel something within it.
As he hovered near the south wall, Dozens of eyes suddenly appeared from the black mist.
Corrupted cultivators burst from buildings and shadows, hurling dark qi attacks at him.
He instantly swerved sideways, evading a bunch of attacks as he took time to inspect these rogue looking humanoid beings.
Their faces twisted, their eyes were dark purplish, their skin was corrupted and their screams inhuman.
Seirin engaged them briefly as he drew back.
However, it was long enough to confirm the infection was qi-based, and fatal.
He cut down three, but one scratch across index from a fourth burned through like acid.
He instantly swung his arm like a blade, slicing his index finger off.
His severed finger turned black in less than a second and mist spread from it, causing him to jump back into the air in avoidance.
And then he saw it:
Hundreds of bodies piled at the gates... and they seemed to be regular folks from the tattered clothing on their torn apart corpses.
The gates of Verdant Flame City weren't breached.
They were trampled from within.
He immediately understood that this wasn't a battle...
Whatever this plague was... he had to get as far away as humanly possible.
---
(( Back to the Present ))
Seirin took another long breath and looked over the silent, terrified crowd.
"So I ran," he finished. "Used my fastest movement art... Burning Veil Cloudstep. Doesn't let you fight while active, but it covers distance like nothing else. I got out before the mist touched me."
"And now?" Rykar asked.
"Now," Seirin voiced, "I return to tell King Jian to turn around immediately and seal the province."
He looked toward the horizon.
"This plague must never reach us."