Advent of the Archmage - Chapter 557

Chapter 557: Plague of Mara City

Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

Golden Plains, night

“Someone figured out the poison.”

There was a small thatched cottage in the thick grass. Inside, Ariel, Elovan, and Milose sat facing each other. They had been meditating as Magicians usually did, and the cottage had been quiet. Ariel suddenly broke the silence.

Elovan and Milose didn’t open their eyes, but their expressions changed. “Can you sense who it is?”

“I’m not sure. It’s a strange power, very clean and seemingly a bit gentle… No, it’s reserved. This is a subtle power. I feel that if it is used at full force, it can be terrifying.”

“Do you know where it is?” Elovan asked.

“Near Mara City.”

“Your Highness, should we go check?” Milose asked.

Ariel was silent for a bit. Then she said, “Let’s go see. Bileauquin is not a simple poison. I have to see who solved it… But try not to get into conflict with him. We can’t reveal our identity.”

Whoever could figure out Bileauquin must be at the Legendary level. A fight at that level could destroy the entire area. By then, it would be impossible to stay hidden.

“Understood, Your Highness.” Elovan and Milose nodded at the same time.

As soon as they spoke, faint green light shone around the three sitting on the ground. An instant later, they’d turned into a green haze and shot out of the cottage like lightning.

…

On the other side of the plains, a large line of Beastmen knights with Kero Beasts, unique to the plains, were making their way to Mara City.

The Kero Beast at the head was huge and had a unique color. Rather than the regular grayish-white, it was pure black. A Beastman in fine leather armor sat on its back.

Using the Beastmen’s craftsmanship standards, this leather armor was extremely luxurious. The Beastman was strong, and the black obsidian broadsword on his back was half a man’s height. It was crudely made and had many nicks on the blade. However, it couldn’t affect the murderous aura coming out of the sword.

If a regular person saw this, their eyes would be in pain. They wouldn’t even be able to stare at it directly.

But compared to the Beastman’s own aura, the sword was nothing.

His pure black hair, long and dense, was tied carelessly and hung down his back. When there was wind, his hair would billow like burning black flames. He was very muscular and at least seven feet tall. Muscles bulged on his bare arms, rippling like water whenever he moved. He was very impressive.

Different from the other crude and barbaric Warriors, he sat upright on the Kero Beast. His eyes were closed as if he were resting, and no matter how bumpy the road was, he didn’t move. His presence was like a looming mountain that one couldn’t see the tip of.

This was the new king of the Beastmen: Glorious Warlord Avatar.

Technically, it appeared that he ruled over all tribes of the plains. The fighters of each tribe had submitted to him, recognizing him as the only king. However, the thousands-of-years-old Beastmen tradition was too resilient. Each Beastman was only loyal to their own tribe, and there was no king in their hearts. This would take years to change.

To strengthen his rule, King Avatar established a touring convoy, in addition to the Gronhon Capital. He traveled the cities to show his authority and power.

His next destination was Mara City.

Three in the afternoon, a scout reported, “Your Majesty, there are 30 more miles to Mara City, but it doesn’t seem very stable.”

Avatar wasn’t surprised. He’d run into such things often along the way. Even now, he wasn’t firmly seated on the throne. Many people weren’t willing to surrender to him.

He didn’t fear challenges.

“Explain.” He didn’t even open his eyes.

“Your Majesty, many people are fleeing the city. They say there’s an epidemic…”

“Epidemic?” Shocked, Avatar’s eyes flew open. His eyes were slightly bloody—a change after he entered the Legendary level.

If a strong opponent had appeared in the city, he wouldn’t be scared. He was confident he could fell the opponent with his sword. But this time, the opponent was an invisible disease. He had to be scared.

“Isn’t Grand Shaman Alador there?” Avatar asked. “Is he helpless too?”

“Grand Shaman Alador was assassinated five days ago.”

Avatar was shocked again. This smelled fishy, but the Beastmen lived in the Golden Plains and rarely had conflicts with other races. Who would try to harm them?

Could it be Parmese? Avatar shook his head as soon as he thought of that. He was familiar with Parmese. The man only disagreed with Avatar, but he wouldn’t sacrifice regular Beastmen or kill a Grand Shaman.

Humans? Avatar shook his head again. Humans liked dark magic. The Norton Kingdom in the North was fighting with the Destructive Army while the Syndicate was busy with making an alliance. They also had to be careful of the Isle of Dawn. They had no time to make more enemies.

The Destructive Army? Avatar still shook his head at this. As far as he knew, the Destructive Army and humans were mostly equal. They were far in the North and were busy with the humans. Why would they fight the Beastmen now?

He thought for a while but couldn’t figure out who his enemy was. He could only move past this now. “What kind of plague is it?” he asked.

The scout looked fearful. “I saw some victims. Their skin turned green and became weak. The disease doesn’t spread quickly, but there’s no cure. Even the Shaman’s divine spells don’t work. They can only wait for death.”

“Even the divine spells don’t work?” Avatar furrowed his brows. Suddenly, he flinched. He thought of something terrible. “Are there many people fleeing?”

“Yes. They spread throughout the plains after leaving Mara City.”

Hearing this, Avatar shook. “So cruel!” he uttered.

There was no cure for the plague. They could only wait for death after falling sick. Even worse, these people would only weaken and still have the ability to move for a long time. Many of those who were fleeing were probably sick already. They would bring the plague throughout the entire plains. By then, the entire Golden Plains would be infected.

Avatar didn’t dare imagine the consequences.

After a few seconds, Avatar was about to speak to the scout when he realized there was something wrong. He studied the scout and then looked to the Warriors behind him. He quickly realized that there really was something wrong. His face was slightly green… He was infected!

“You are infected. Leave now!” he ordered.

Stunned, the scout checked himself. Face paling, he stumbled back, eyes filled with despair. He prostrated himself on the ground and looked up at Avatar. “Your Majesty, please help me,” he begged. “Don’t let me die without honor.”

Avatar was only a Warrior. He was helpless against a plague. Faced with the scout’s pleads, he felt uncomfortable. After a long while, he said, “Stay here alone. Don’t give up until the end!”

With that, he jumped off from his Kero Beast. Turning, he said to his Warriors, “Set up camp here. I’m going to Mara City.”

An army couldn’t deal with a plague. If these soldiers went with him, they would just get infected.

The soldiers were all shocked when they heard this. “Your Majesty,” someone said, walking forward. “Mara has already become a city of plagues.”

“That is why I must go alone. The plague can’t hurt me. I will go find those shamans. They’re the first to come into contact with the plague. Even if they don’t have a solution, they can show me the way.”

With that, he turned to the infected scout. “Soldier, don’t give up. I’ll think of something.”

Tears filling his eyes, the scout fell to his knees and choked out, “Your Majesty!”

Avatar took a deep breath; his power started operating. He crossed hundreds of feet with one step as he raced towards Mara City.

As he ran, he thought angrily, The spreader of the plague is evil. They want to destroy my race. If I find them, I’ll make them suffer all the torture in the world.

The furious Avatar didn’t know that three figures were following behind him. It was the Storm Warlord Parmese who had come south.

“That’s Avatar?” a small Naga asked. It was Katyusha with the Spear of Victory.

“It’s him.” The Storm Warlord grasped his lancet as if facing a great enemy.

“He doesn’t seem that powerful.” That came from the Fallen Angel. His weapons were two finely made shurikens. He twirled them as he spoke. The graceful movements went well with his handsome and angelic face.

The Storm Warlord didn’t like him. Cursing him inwardly, he warned out loud, “Don’t underestimate him. He’s the strongest Warrior of our race. You’ll never know how powerful he is until you fight him.”

“Even the strongest Warrior can’t escape from the Spear of Victory.” Katyusha smiled.

Parmese stopped talking. He’d experienced how terrifying the Spear of Victory was. To him, it was undefeatable.

“Anyway, be careful… Where are we going to attack?”

“Mara City.”

“Mara City? There are too many people there.” Parmese was a bit hesitant. Whether they were Magicians or Warriors, Legendary figures always shook the world when they fought. Every ordinary person around them would die.

Katyusha heard his hesitation. “What, you can’t bear it? They’re all Avatar’s people.”

“But…” She was right, and Parmese had left the Golden Plains. However, he never thought to return and massacre the innocent.

The Fallen Angel chuckled coldly. “See, mortals will always be mortals, even if they have extraordinary power.”

“Fine, I’ll do it!” Parmese waved his hand. He would go all out. He looked like a human now, so everything he did would be the humans’ fault.