It didn't take them long to reach the cottage. The inside was divided using sacks filled with waste from the harvest.
It was a terrible environment for anyone allergic to pollen or dust particles. But this wasn't the time when anyone could afford to be picky.
As long as there was hope for a cure, even someone like Lord Varnehold — who had almost half of the South under his belt — was willing to step into this small cottage.
The "boy" they kept referring to was actually a young man, and if Xion's estimation was correct, this pitiful patient had a daughter around the same age as the merchant's.
Xion wore his mask and gloves before entering. After checking the feverish heat and the purple-red marks spreading around the eyes, it was clear. It was the same thing.
He gently shut the creaking door close as he stepped outside.
His gaze drifted to the sky where the sun was shining brightly, offering the people much-needed warmth amid the spreading cold.
