Half an hour later, in the Council Hall.
Although the fireplaces around the hall were burning vigorously, Sophia sat upright on the high throne, her silver hair exuding a chilling coldness under the dim candlelight.
Below, over ten ministers who had been urgently dragged out from under their covers looked ashen. Their whispers were like the chirping of frightened cicadas.
"Your Majesty! This must be the awakening of evil spirits on the northern wasteland!" An old minister fell to his knees trembling, a sob in his voice.
"Nearly a hundred people falling ill overnight, this is clearly the curse of the God of Death of Winter! We should immediately blockade all roads leading to the border, and even... we should even order the burning of those affected camps. We absolutely cannot let the curse spread to the Royal City!"
"Bastard!"
Delilah stood with her hand resting on her sword, her gaze cold enough to kill.
"Those are Mason's soldiers and hardworking laborers. They defend the city and reclaim land for Your Majesty, yet you actually want to burn them to death?"
"Lord General, this is not a war, this is a natural disaster!" another cardinal official hurriedly voiced out, speaking at an astonishing speed.
"If this curse enters the city, none of us will be able to escape!
This minister suggests immediately holding a large-scale sacrificial ceremony across the entire city to pray for the gods' forgiveness, while simultaneously ordering all citizens to stay indoors behind closed doors..."
"This minister believes this is unacceptable. Mason's labor force is already lacking. If we abandon these patients and ignore them, we will very likely end up in an even more miserable state."
The ministers argued into a chaotic mess. Some advocated for bloody suppression, some advocated for fleeing as far as possible, and some even began calculating whether to send their families out of Mason overnight.
This extreme sense of crisis caused these usually well-dressed and respectable people to completely lose their decency.
Victor did not speak blindly. Instead, he placed his gaze on the continuously silent Sophia.
He was a staunch supporter of Your Majesty and naturally would not lean towards either side before Your Majesty made her stance clear.
At this time, Your Majesty still hadn't said a single word.
This kind of silence was the most terrifying deterrence.
These idiots only knew how to pray to gods and ask for divination, completely unaware that within Your Majesty's pale golden eyes, an iron-blooded Great Wall to defend against the plague was currently being constructed.
The reason Your Majesty didn't lock down the city was that she intended to declare war on that so-called God of Death!
"Silence."
Sophia spat out a single word, and the hall instantly became so quiet that one could hear a pin drop.
She looked at Victor. "Where is the soldier who brought the message now?"
Before Victor could answer, the heavy wooden doors of the hall were violently pushed open.
Chancellor Valery, his head covered in heavy sweat, commanded two Close Guards as they rushed in carrying a limp, human-shaped figure.
"Your Majesty! That brother who brought the message... he can't hold on any longer!"
Everyone turned their heads in unison.
They saw that the soldier's face was flushed red, and his breathing was as heavy as a broken bellows. What was even more alarming was that his skin was covered in densely packed, tiny red spots.
"Cough! Cough, cough, cough!"
The soldier suddenly let out a bout of heart-wrenching coughing. Along with his movements, a puddle of dark red, viscous liquid splattered onto the cold marble floor.
"He's coughing up blood!"
"The curse has entered the city! Quick, get away! God save us!"
"Quickly drag him out and burn him!"
"Save me, help!"
The ministers let out a series of screams. Some directly overturned the chairs behind them, scrambling and crawling as they burrowed into the corners of the hall.
The loyal ministers who had been talking with fervor just seconds ago now wished they could phase through the walls and escape.
Watching the ministers act like a makeshift theatrical troupe, Sophia already memorized the faces of those people.
Sophia turned her head to look at the soldier on the ground, her heart suddenly sinking heavily.
"This is not a curse. This is an acute respiratory infectious disease, perhaps even some kind of mutated bubonic plague."
She leaned on the armrest of the throne and stood up. Just as she was about to step down and check on him, a pink figure suddenly spread her arms wide and blocked her path.
"Your Majesty! Stop right there! You are not allowed to go over!"
Due to extreme nervousness, Irene's azure eyes were currently staring wide and round, her forehead covered entirely in sweat.
Her acute instincts, honed from staying in the laboratory year-round, told her that the bloody scent drifting in the air and the mist brought out by the coughing were the very carriers of death.
"Give me a little time! Just fifteen minutes!"
Irene shouted at Sophia, then turned her head and dashed towards the side hall nearby, where she had a small warehouse for storing materials for the convenience of her daily experiments.
Sophia stopped in her tracks.
She understood that in this era without any epidemic prevention measures, Irene was her hope.
Furthermore, it was true that with this kind of contagious epidemic, if she approached rashly, she would indeed be very easily infected.
In the shadows of the side hall, Irene frantically rummaged around:
She grabbed a roll of the finest, multiply-bleached fine linen.
She cut this linen into neat rectangles and folded them over a full four layers thick.
Between the layers, she sprinkled extremely finely ground activated charcoal powder that had just been transferred from the flagship store's warehouse, and evenly spread a thick layer of dried mint leaves and thyme.
Although these herbs couldn't sterilize bacteria, they could keep breathing smooth and alleviate the pungent, smoky sensation.
Using a heated fine needle, she quickly pierced holes at the edges of the fabric, pulling through flexible cords to make ear loops.
Taking into account the coldness of the Royal City, she specially sealed a bendable thin copper wire at the bridge of the nose to ensure the edges could tightly conform to the face.
In a mere ten minutes, Irene rushed back holding a small wooden tray, shouting breathlessly,
"Your Majesty! Wear this! I call it a mask; it should be able to block some harmful gases."
Sophia picked up that slightly rough yet exceptionally thick mask and fastened it onto her face with extreme naturalness.
As the copper wire at the bridge of her nose was pressed tight, that faint herbal fragrance instantly cleared away the rotten smell in the air.
She casually tossed the remaining masks to Delilah, Daphne, and Victor, casting a cold gaze at the group of ministers shivering in the corners.
"Look closely. This is This Queen's shield.
Any subject of Mason who retreats in the face of this epidemic shall no longer enjoy the protection of the Black Rose."
Those few ministers who were just screaming weirdly fell into an eerie silence at this moment.
Sophia looked at Irene, a rare touch of warmth and approval flashing in her eyes:
"Irene, you did very well.
For this mask, This Queen will record a great merit for you."
"As long as Your Majesty doesn't get sick, I'll do anything!"
Irene put on her own mask painted with a pink rose. Although only a pair of large eyes was exposed, they were brimming with fighting spirit.
She walked down the stairs of the throne step by step. Her heavy black fox fur trailed across the marble floor, the subtle rustling sounds appearing exceptionally abrupt in the deathly silent hall.
The ministers hiding in the corners held their breaths. In their eyes, every step Sophia took closer to that soldier felt like she was challenging the authority of the God of Death.
Victor and Valery fixed their gazes upon Sophia.
Did you see that! This is a King!
Those so-called curses are nothing but lowly dust in Your Majesty's eyes.
She isn't just going to check on the illness; she is using her own body to build up Mason's national gates!
This fearless, divine posture is enough to make any evil spirits disperse!
Sophia stopped three steps away from the soldier and half-squatted down.
Through the overlapping linen, her gaze repeatedly scanned across the soldier's exposed skin.
Some of those densely packed red spots had already bulged into transparent blisters, even taking on an eerie purplish-black hue due to the high fever. This made her associate it with the smallpox described in the history books of her past life.
Moreover, the soldier's rapid, hoarse breathing sounded like pneumonia complications triggered by some kind of virulent virus.
In this era without antibiotics or vaccines, this combination was simply the scythe of the God of Death.
Sophia's inner heart was not as calm as her outward appearance suggested.
Big trouble.
Smallpox plus mutated pneumonia?
If this thing breaks out on a massive scale at the border, all the major infrastructure and the flagship store I managed to build with such great difficulty will all turn into a graveyard.
This is fundamentally not a problem that can be solved just by washing hands and preventing the virus...
"Your Majesty, let me handle this."
Daphne spoke softly. She walked to the soldier's side and slowly extended her hands.
A pale golden light gathered at her fingertips. It was an energy pure to the extreme. It flew down from her hands, warmly covering the soldier's violently heaving chest.
As the Holy Light seeped in, the soldier's rapid panting, which had sounded like a bellows, gradually smoothed out, and the flush on his face caused by the high fever also receded somewhat.
Seeing this, the ministers revealed wild joy in their eyes:
"A Divine Miracle! Lord Saint's Divine Miracle has taken effect!"
However, Daphne's brows furrowed even tighter.
A moment later, she withdrew her hands. Although the soldier was no longer coughing blood, the red rash on his skin still had not faded.
"Healing magic can only alleviate the physical pain of his body and the failure of his organs."
Daphne looked at Sophia, a trace of seriousness in her voice.
"But that malice known as the pathogen is continuously multiplying within his body. My magic power can only temporarily suppress it, but cannot eradicate it completely.
If we don't find a way to completely destroy the source, sooner or later he will still..."
Sophia raised her head, her pale golden pupils meeting Daphne's eyes.
As a Magical Girl who had come from another world, Sophia instantly understood the profound meaning in Daphne's gaze.
It was a researcher's quest for the unknown, and it was also her telling Sophia—she had a way to research and develop an antidote for this disease.
"Daphne, what do you need?"
Sophia asked calmly.
"Time, an absolutely isolated location, and..."
Daphne glanced at the soldier.
"An opportunity that allows me to observe the changes in the sample.
Your Majesty, this is not something magic can accomplish overnight. I need to combine the medicine of this world to find a balance point and create a perfect Potion."
Sophia nodded and turned her head to issue orders:
"Immediately clear out the room on the top floor of the West Tower. Usually, only Irene's laboratory is up there. Take this soldier over and settle him in.
Lockdown that floor; apart from permitted individuals, absolutely no one is allowed near it."
The ministers looked at each other in dismay. Although afraid, under Sophia's oppressive aura, no one dared to voice any opposition.
"Willow."
Sophia turned around, looking at the maid who had been guarding closely behind her the entire time.
Willow trembled slightly, a hint of struggle flashing through her pale purple eyes.
She knew what Sophia was going to say.
"Daphne needs a meticulous person to help handle things.
You will follow her to the West Tower. You are the person This Queen trusts the most; with you there, Daphne can fully devote herself to the task, and This Queen can also know of the progress as soon as possible."
Willow clenched the hem of her clothes tightly. She wanted to stay by Sophia's side to take care of her, especially in such a dangerous moment.
But looking at the solemnity in Sophia's eyes, she understood that this was a mission far more important than serving tea and pouring water.
"This servant... This servant complies with the decree."
Willow took a deep breath, then walked quickly to General Delilah's side, her tone more serious than ever before.
"Lord Delilah, Your Majesty's safety is entirely entrusted to you.
Please make sure to keep an eye on Your Majesty so she wears the mask made by Lord Irene on time. She is not allowed to take it off recklessly, nor is she allowed to come into contact with any more patients!"
Delilah rested her hand on the hilt of her sword, her black cape making her look imposing and heroic. She nodded solemnly:
"As long as I still have a breath left, no shadow will be able to cast itself upon Your Majesty.
You can go with peace of mind."
Only then did Willow look at Sophia with great reluctance, her eyes full of worry and firm resolve. She then turned and followed Daphne and the Close Guards carrying the soldier.
Sophia watched the retreating figure of Willow, her gaze becoming hard once again.
She swept her eyes over those ministers and said in a cold voice:
"Valery, Victor, immediately tally the current number of infected individuals at the border.
Irene, your mask production capacity must be increased. This Queen wants every single soldier at the border to wear it.
What we are facing is not the God of Death, but a war that must be won."
"Yes! Your Majesty!"
Irene's crisp voice echoed within the hall.
The snowstorm outside the hall seemed to have grown even more furious, yet more pressing than the snowstorm were the lights at the bottom of the West Tower that remained unextinguished throughout the night.
Irene practically jogged all the way back to her experimental workshop.
In the past, this place was always filled with the fragrance of soap and the brisk sound of meshing gears, but at this moment, the atmosphere here was so heavy that it left people breathless.
"Stop! Everyone, stop all the work in your hands!"
Irene's clear and resonant voice echoed in the spacious workshop, shocking the workers who were busy sticking labels onto tooth powder jars into raising their heads, their faces full of bewilderment.
"Lord Irene, this tooth powder needs to be delivered to the flagship store first thing tomorrow morning..."
a worker who looked like a foreman reminded her softly.
"Tomorrow there will be no tooth powder, only lives!"
Irene snatched the jar from his hand and slammed it heavily onto the table, her azure eyes flashing with an unprecedented fierceness.
"Relay Your Majesty's decree! From this moment on, all Black Rose workshops will enter a state of wartime control.
The toothbrush production line is shut down! The tooth powder filling line is shut down!
Gather all the fine linen, activated charcoal powder, and mint grass to the East Hall!"
Irene jumped onto a tall stool, waving the sample mask she had just made for Sophia in her hand.
"What we need to make is this: a mask!
It is Your Majesty's shield, and the final line of defense for the subjects of Mason in the face of the plague!"
The atmosphere in the workshop instantly tightened to the extreme.
As the news of the message-bearing soldier coughing up blood spread madly in the shadows, the workers' faces were written with unconcealable fear.
Their hands trembled. When some were cutting the linen, their scissors even struck against the stone tables, emitting crisp clattering sounds.
"Lord Irene,"
a female worker spoke with a trembling voice, her eye sockets red. "That kind of curse... can it really be blocked just by wearing this piece of cloth?
My little son is still at home waiting for me."
Irene jumped down from the stool, walked in front of that female worker, and personally helped tuck her messy hair behind her ear.
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