"Thud!"
That was the sound of a human body smashing onto the hard Cement ground, sounding exceptionally ear-piercing in the silent early morning.
Sophia's hand, which had been gently stroking Irene's hair, stiffened slightly.
She looked up and saw that in the center of the open space, a subject who was carrying mugwort suddenly and without any warning collapsed onto the ground, the bundle of firewood in his hands scattering all over.
"Old Pete? What's wrong with you!"
The person next to him had just exclaimed and tried to reach out to help him up, but the moment their fingertips touched the other party, his own body also swayed. His knees dropped heavily onto the ground as he vomited large mouthfuls of dark red liquid.
Panic spread rapidly through the crowd like ink dropped into water.
"Plague... the plague has entered the Palace!"
"God, save us!"
"Help! His blood splashed onto me, will I be infected too?"
The originally orderly subjects began to shove and retreat, their screams tearing apart the tranquility of the early morning.
After leaning Irene's body against the nearby railing, Sophia stood up abruptly. Because she got up too urgently, her body swayed slightly, and her black fox fur rustled in the cold wind.
"Delilah!"
Her clear and cold voice was not loud, but it accurately pierced through the noisy waves of sound, acting like an invisible barrier that forcibly suppressed the riot.
"This subject is here!"
Delilah, who had been resting with her eyes closed in the shadows, instantly drew her sword from its sheath.
Without any superfluous nonsense, that squad of soldiers, wearing capable black-gray uniforms and Black Rose masks, rapidly cut into the chaotic crowd like a stream of gray iron.
"Everyone, sit down where you are! No one is allowed to approach the fainted individuals!"
Delilah's longsword pointed diagonally at the ground, her gaze as sharp as a knife. Under the well-trained guidance of the soldiers, in less than three minutes, the square that had originally been as chaotic as a pot of porridge was forcibly divided into several square blocks.
Sophia slowly walked down the stone steps. She did not reveal even a fraction of panic or fear because of the sudden outbreak of the plague; those pale golden pupils remained so calm that it made people's hearts palpitate.
"Carry them away. Send them to the western side hall, and isolate them in single rooms according to the standards Daphne set previously." Sophia pointed at those few unconscious subjects, her tone steady.
"Tell the rest of the people that since they have entered this Palace gate, their lives belong to Mason. If they are sick, This Queen will save them. But if anyone dares to trample upon Order at this time, then directly send them outside the city to be buried."
The soldiers lifted the stretchers, their actions professional and swift, without a single trace of sluggishness. This sense of elitism, maintained even in the face of death, caused those originally shivering subjects to gradually quiet down.
Seeing this, Victor and Valery, who were helping to move things, also hurriedly went over to help.
Did you see that! This is Her Majesty's minimalist theory of governance!
Facing the disaster of sudden death right before her eyes, Her Majesty didn't even furrow her brow. She has even already reserved the western side hall as an isolation zone; what does this indicate? It indicates that Her Majesty had long calculated that the plague would invade the Palace!
She is using this kind of controllable crisis to once again temper the wills of the subjects! As long as Her Majesty does not retreat, Mason will never fall!
Just as Sophia had finished dealing with the internal disturbance and returned to the Council Hall, preparing to drink a mouthful of hot water to warm her body, Victor, with a solemn expression, handed over three urgent secret letters sealed with different waxes.
"Your Majesty, the outside world... is also in chaos."
Sophia opened the first and second letters; they were from Leighton and Qubi. Between the lines were entirely humble pleas and desperate trembling. The exact same red rash plague had also broken out within their borders, even earlier than in Mason.
Corpses littered the plains, and trade routes were cut off. These two countries that usually boasted of being civilized were currently grasping desperately towards Mason like drowning men, hoping to receive Mason's help.
"Mason is currently still protecting itself." Sophia picked up a pen and merely scribbled a single line on those two reply letters.
"Wait until our borders are stable, then we shall discuss support. Before then, burn mugwort, close your doors, and cover your faces; you are responsible for your own lives and deaths."
However, when she opened the third letter, a highly sarcastic sneer finally emerged on Sophia's stoic face.
That was Orr. That neighboring country which had once imprisoned Daphne, viewing her as a Witch, yet constantly coveted her magic power out of fear.
The King of Orr's tone in the letter was arrogant and sinister.
"Sophia, don't think I don't know that this is Daphne's doing. This kind of vicious curse can only be unraveled by her. Immediately send that Witch back to Orr; otherwise, when Orr's army flattens Mason, you, this little silver fox, will only be able to repent in my dungeon."
"Your Majesty, the threat of the people of Orr cannot be underestimated." Victor looked at the threatening words on the letter paper with some worry.
Sophia didn't speak; she merely spun that expensive piece of parchment paper around her fingertips once, and then, in front of everyone, casually tossed it into the vigorously burning fireplace in the center of the hall.
Tongues of fire instantly curled up the corners of the paper. Those arrogant words twisted and blackened in the raging flames, finally turning into a wisp of nothingness and ashes.
"Threat?" Sophia stared at the dancing flames. Her pale golden pupils reflected the red light, making her appear bewitching and dangerous.
"The King of Orr probably takes This Queen for the kind of child who only knows how to cry. He knows Daphne has the Ability to solve the plague, which indicates that he perhaps also had a hand in participating in this disease..."
Sophia turned her head and looked at Delilah, a slight arc curling up at the corner of her mouth.
"Reply to Leighton and Qubi, and tell them that Mason can sell masks to them. But the premise is that they must keep a close eye on Orr at the borders for This Queen. Since the King of Orr wants his Witch so much, then let him bring a coffin to come pick her up."
Gazing at the letter in the stove that was about to burn out completely, Victor trembled.
Burning the letter! That was the highest contempt towards the hegemony of the old era!
What Her Majesty tossed in wasn't paper; it was the national destiny of the Kingdom of Orr! In that instant, she saw through the essence of biological warfare, and backhandedly used the masks and mugwort to construct an epidemic prevention encirclement net!
Her Majesty intends to let Orr burn itself to death amidst the plague and isolation!
Sophia sat back down on the chair. Looking at the letter that had already turned into ashes, she was actually complaining crazily in her heart.
Is that King of Orr sick in the head? At a time like this, instead of thinking about how to prevent the epidemic, he's actually engaging in extortion? Does he really think this place of mine is a Magical Girl raising facility? After raising her for a while, I'm supposed to send her back to him? Dream on!
Irene was still fast asleep, Daphne was still overdrawing herself, and Mason's subjects were still holding on bitterly in the square.
She pondered for a while, after which she called over an attendant and whispered a few words into his ear.
After issuing a series of resolute and swift commands, Sophia did not immediately overdraw everyone's energy. She was very clear that in this era without industrialized supplies, the lives of these few core trusted aides were more precious than the gold coins in the National Treasury.
She shooed Irene to go wash her face and catch up on sleep, and even issued a strict order to the constantly tense Delilah, mandating that she close her eyes for half an hour.
The mugwort smoke on the Palace Square still lingered. The subjects, under the leadership of the soldiers, were methodically transporting boxes upon boxes of masks to all parts of the city.
At this time, Vasha was bending her waist, using both hands to strenuously carry a box of thickened, specially made masks.
This kind of heavy labor would have originally been an impossible fantasy for the former Princess of Orr, but at this moment, she was working extremely seriously. This was true even though her fingers had already been rubbed raw with red marks by the rough edges of the wooden box, and even though that exquisite long dress was already covered in herbal ash.
Just as she straightened her waist, preparing to carry the next box, the corner of her eye caught sight of several familiar figures passing through the long corridor, walking towards the small council hall deep within the Palace.
Walking at the very front was Sophia. Her black fox fur swayed slightly in the wind, her back appearing cold and straight. Following after were Irene, who was rubbing her eyes and forcing herself to stay awake, and Daphne, whose face was pale but whose gaze was firm.
Delilah followed closely behind like a sheathed sharp blade. Willow, Victor, and Valery also entered sequentially.
With a "click," that heavy vermilion door, carved with the Black Rose crest, slowly closed in Vasha's line of sight.
Vasha's transporting action froze. She looked at that tightly shut door, a touch of extremely deep loneliness brushing past the bottom of her eyes. Afterwards, she hooked the corners of her mouth in a self-deprecating manner.
Even if I have thrown away my identity as someone from Orr, and even if I am personally carrying life-saving supplies...
In front of that door that decides Mason's fate, I am still only an outsider being observed, who could be abandoned at any time.
Daphne can risk her life for Her Majesty, Irene can invent things for Her Majesty, and even that little maid can guard the Potions for Her Majesty. Yet I can only carry boxes here.
Vasha, oh Vasha, can you truly find your roots within this cold patch of Black Roses?
She took a deep breath, lowered her head once again, and suppressed all her unease and unwillingness into that heavy wooden box, continuing to walk silently towards the transporting queue.
A full hour passed. Outside the small council hall, apart from the two elite Royal Guards standing tall like stone statues, there was not a single other noise.
From behind that door, Irene's impassioned sounds of debate would occasionally transmit out, or Sophia's cold yet incisive questioning, but for the majority of the time, it was a death-like silence.
At this time, several low-ranking officials waiting at the end of the long corridor were already so nervous that their heads were covered in sweat.
Her Majesty had not only brought the martial General Delilah and the civil official Victor this time, but had also locked Daphne the Saint, the spokesperson of the gods, and Miss Irene the Inventor, the incarnation of the Creator, together inside.
This indicated that the upcoming decision would thoroughly subvert this world's understanding of plagues and wars!
Was Her Majesty re-dividing the continent's territory inside, or was she researching how to directly erase the existence of the Kingdom of Orr?
When the clock's hand swept past the final mark, that vermilion door which had been tightly shut for an hour finally emitted a muffled rumble and slowly opened.
The first to walk out was Victor. At this time, this old Chancellor was puffing out his chest and raising his head. A near-crazy gleam of excitement from grasping Truth flashed in his eyes. The quill in his hand even had a bald tip due to excessive writing.
Following closely behind were Daphne and Willow. The two of them had exceptionally brisk paces, as if a certain kind of mountain pressing on their shoulders had already been casually moved away by Her Majesty.
Irene walked at the very end. As she walked, she was rapidly calculating something in her small notebook, muttering words that the soldiers couldn't understand.
Finally, Sophia stepped over the threshold. Her expression was as usual. Not a single trace of exhaustion could be seen on that stoic face that was as exquisite as a porcelain doll; instead, it revealed a cold and calm composure that things had finally stepped onto the right track.
She did not look at anyone, merely giving a cold order to Commander Valery who was waiting outside...
"Execute according to the plan. From now on, Mason will no longer defend. Since they like to play with infections, then This Queen will let them see what is called the cleanup of civilization."
Valery's entire body trembled, and he immediately broke out into an extremely resounding military salute:
"Complying with the decree!!"
Although Daphne had only rested for a short three hours, that kind of resilience from being a Magical Girl allowed her to once again stand before that experiment table soaked in the Holy Light, even under the condition where her magic power was not yet fully replenished.
This time, she wasn't in a hurry to touch those bitter mugwort extracts; instead, she cast her gaze towards a few pitchers of sweet well water.
Daphne took a deep breath and raised her hands flat. Unlike the complex material displacement of Alchemy, what she was casting was a pure, cross-planar magic power interference.
"The pity of the Holy Light, at this moment transforms into a gentle breeze that dispels exhaustion."
Along with her soft murmurs, the light in the entire room seemed to be instantly drawn away, converging at her fingertips. If Sophia were present at this moment, she would definitely marvel at the purity of this energy.
It could be seen that the ordinary water automatically suspended in the void, forming crystalline water droplets. Daphne's hands shuttled between the water droplets. With every tap of her finger, a rotating golden rune would be planted inside the water droplet.
Magic forcibly wiped away the body's feedback signals regarding fatigue. Every single water molecule was highly activated by the Holy Light.
This was a "strong caffeine" that directly targeted the soul level. The originally colorless water, in just a short few minutes, had surprisingly evolved into a fluorescent liquid flowing with a fragmented golden luster.
This wasn't a drug at all; this was a materialized, drinkable miracle.
When Willow, carrying a tray, delivered these few bottles of Potion emitting a warm and sweet fragrance to everyone, a chilling aura of killing intent was currently permeating the side hall.
Irene had already been working at her station for a while. Upon seeing Willow deliver it, she immediately said happily:
"Wow! I've been waiting for this mouthful!"
At this time, Irene was lying prone amongst a pile of blueprints, calculating crazily, her hair as messy as a bird's nest.
She grabbed the Potion, tilted her head back, and drank it all in one gulp.
In the next second, a current of electricity seemed to flash through her azure eyes, and with a "whoosh," her entire person stood up. Her originally slightly dull expression due to sleepiness instantly became incomparably excited.
"I feel like the current me can rub out a steam road roller barehanded~"
Irene waved her pen, her brain entering a crazy state of overload.
Delilah took the Potion without saying much, as if drinking a certain kind of farewell wine before embarking on a campaign.
As the liquid entered her throat, her muscles, which were originally slightly tense due to forcibly closing her eyes, surprisingly let out an extremely fine popping sound.
Delilah gripped the hilt of her sword tightly, her originally pale red eyes currently as profound as an abyss. She could feel the blood roaring in her blood vessels. It wasn't just the recovery of physical strength; even the acuteness of her senses had been elevated to a terrifying level.
Afterwards, Willow also kept some for herself. After she drank it, her originally bruised eye sockets rapidly faded, and her movements became even more light and agile.
To her, this wasn't just physical strength; it was even more so Her Majesty's care for her. Although Daphne made it... in her eyes, this was Her Majesty's arrangement.
The final portion of Potion was personally delivered by Daphne into Sophia's hands.
Sophia took that warm test tube. Looking at the dancing golden flowing light inside, the corners of her mouth twitched slightly involuntarily.
This color... it really looks like a super god-tier enhanced version of those energy drinks from my past life. However, since Daphne said there were no side effects, it's at least better than me stubbornly holding on through sheer willpower.
Sophia elegantly swallowed a mouthful. A warm and majestic current instantly exploded from her esophagus, rapidly roaming to her entire body. That feeling was like a battery that was originally warning at one percent being directly charged to two hundred percent within zero point one seconds.
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