Xion had ordered everyone to carry out their tasks with precision. There was no room for error. Not when there were so many lives at stake.
Exhausted, Xion was about to fall on his bed when there was an urgent knock on the door.
A pale-faced servant was staring at Xion as if he had seen a ghost, "My lord, my daughter... she seemed to be sick." The servant breathed heavily.
Even in the cold, a few drops of sweat slid down his sharp nose. Panic shone clearly in his eyes.
Xion's heart thudded. If this man's daughter was infected with Tenberis, that would mean the plague had breached the gates.
And considering the servant worked in their gardens, who knew how far it could've already spread?
"Lead the way," he said while hastily putting a long coat over his sleeping attire.
With a bag slung over his shoulder, Xion and the servant ran frantically toward the less traveled road in the village.
