CHAPTER 41

The Apostle’s Disease. The Crimson Blight.
In this room were a hundred women dying from it.
Women whose bodies, including their internal organs and even their eyeballs, had been stained crimson.
The moment every part of the body, organs and all, turned red, life could no longer be sustained.
I examined them without any protective measures in a room thick with the disease.
The place was already saturated with the Apostle’s Disease.
Even if I wore a mask, it would penetrate it, and I’d get infected anyway.
The women were all unconscious from the pain.
In this state, they wouldn’t feel anything else.
Would Resurrection Magic get rid of the Apostle’s Disease upon revival?
If asked, I was certain it would.
Resurrection Magic cannot fix congenital conditions.
For example, there was no remedy for the Seed of Hanna that Shishiroka had been born with.
However, it was a different story for illnesses caused by external factors.
The Apostle’s Disease was a virus that came from the outside.
Therefore, it could be fully cured with Resurrection Magic.
In other words, it couldn’t solve innate physical ailments.
Diseases like spinal disc problems or bone disorders had to be treated with other types of holy magic, not resurrection.
The reason I was so devoted to holy magic was to one day create a spell that could solve the Seed of Hanna when I revived Shishiroka.
But for illnesses caused by external factors—viruses, curses, or poisons—Resurrection Magic was effective.
That was the conclusion I had reached through my experience using it.
To be honest, I wasn't sure of the full extent of its capabilities.
In cases like cancer, which results from cell mutation, I couldn't be certain until I actually tried to use it.
This was purely based on experience.
And right now, that experience was telling me it would work.
“Just rest for a moment.”
I infused holy magic into the woman’s heart.
That alone was enough to stop her faint breathing.
Immediately after confirming her death, I raised my hand.
The light gathered in my palm was absorbed into her body.
A moment later, the red spots that had spread across her entire body began to disappear.
Just as I thought.
Resurrection Magic was effective against the Apostle’s Disease.
While someone was being resurrected, the disease had no chance to take hold.
The magic itself would purge it.
I opened the heavy door and carried the woman out. Then, I activated Sacred Weapon once more.
My entire body was the Sacred Weapon.
In an instant, I was encased in an armor of light that even covered my face.
The Crimson Blight was an illness that spread through skin contact and respiration with an infected person.
The moment I entered that room, I was already a carrier.
There was only one way to overcome the Apostle's Disease: for someone with far greater magic power than the Apostle to forcibly drive it out.
I had been training in holy magic for a while, but at my current level, I wasn't immune.
Sacred Weapon allowed me to move without skin contact or breathing.
However, it was difficult to breathe properly in this state, so I quickly carried her over.
As I had instructed beforehand, there was no one around.
An empty room.
I laid her down on the bed.
Then I returned to the room of the infected.
I closed the door, deactivated Sacred Weapon, and exhaled.
Holding my breath was no easy task.
But that was only one.
There were ninety-nine more to go.
“Let’s hurry.”
Muttering to myself, I repeated the process.
I infused more than enough holy magic into a woman’s heart, then used Resurrection Magic.
And then I moved her to the other room.
Thanks to the strength training I’d been doing, carrying the women, who were emaciated from the illness, was manageable.
The main challenge was holding my breath, but it wasn't impossible.
“Horizon.”
After finishing a batch of five, I changed the sign on the door.
As I quickly returned to the infected room, I heard footsteps outside.
Horizon and the maids had arrived to move the women to another room.
“Harua-ssi.”
Hearing the response from outside, I got back to work.
And after another five, I called for Horizon again.
Time passed.
I worked tirelessly, but a hundred people was a lot, and it took a considerable amount of time.
And in the process, I learned something.
Drip—
Blood trickled from my nose.
It was proof that I had overused my magic.
“About twenty to twenty-five, I guess.”
That was the total number of people I could revive with my current magic reserves.
My fingertips trembled.
Whether it was thanks to Resurrection Magic or my innate talent, I had always had a large amount of magic.
But even I had a limit.
I learned something valuable from this.
Knowing my limits would be helpful when another situation arose in the future.
I moved a chair from the infected room and sat down.
In this state, there was nothing else I could do.
I decided to rest quietly.
Come to think of it, my heart still didn’t hurt, just like that time I spoke with Ririran.
Lately, I had been thinking.
Perhaps my physical loss…
My heart.
Placing a hand over my chest, I felt only a dead silence.
I looked at the mirror hanging nearby and saw a pale face.
There wasn't a trace of color in it.
The heart pumps blood throughout the body.
Since that wasn't happening properly, my face ended up looking like this.
A hollow laugh escaped me. It was absurd.
I knew I would suffer a physical loss, but it was still amazing that I was alive.
But…
It wasn’t all bad.
Holy magic puts a strain on the heart.
But what about me, a person without a heart?
I can spam holy magic without the restriction of cardiac pain.
In a way, I possessed the highest efficiency as a Holy Mage.
Of course, pain is a signal the body sends when it’s in danger.
Without a heart, I wouldn't know how much strain my body was under.
But conversely, because of that, it could become an opportunity to escape a crisis.
I clenched both fists.
This was a situation practically handed to me to become a great Holy Mage.
It was a stage set by God for me to overcome all adversity and bullshit and survive.
Just then, I felt a squirming, burning pain in my arm.
I rolled up my sleeve and saw red spots.
The spots were gradually spreading across my entire arm.
The Crimson Blight.
The symptoms were finally starting to appear in me as well.
I had anticipated this from the moment I decided to perform the treatment.
It was why I hadn’t bothered with a mask, since I was certain to get it anyway.
Watching the disease eat away at my body, I brushed myself off and stood up.
I casually wiped away the bit of blood that had trickled from my nose.
Now that I was infected with the Crimson Blight, I understood.
I understood the kind of burning agony these people had been enduring.
They were people suffering just because an infected person had appeared.
Being in deathly pain is agonizing.
I know from plenty of experience.
And since I’ve already been paid.
This is something I can solve with just a little more effort.
My break was over. I began the resurrections again.

Before I knew it, the sun had set.
I’d pushed myself too hard at times, making the world spin, but after repeating a cycle of rest and resurrection, I was finally down to the last person.
Resurrection Magic seeped into the final woman.
My head and stomach throbbed.
But the red spots that had spread not only over my torso but down to my legs were even more painful.
It seemed the Crimson Blight’s spreading speed depended on the amount of magic remaining in the body.
I had exhausted all my magic reviving a hundred people.
Thanks to that, the disease was progressing much faster.
It had already reached just below my neck.
But this was the end.
The moment I squeezed out the last of my remaining magic…
Flick—
My vision in one eye went out.
It seemed the excessive use of magic had caused a problem with my eyeball.
Losing sight in one eye threw my sense of balance slightly off.
But somehow, I managed to hoist the woman onto my back and drag my feet forward.
Creeeak—
I opened the closed door and laid the last woman on the floor.
The inside of my throat was hot.
It felt like the red spots had spread to my lungs.
I was in no state to hold my breath, let alone use Sacred Weapon.
I couldn’t carry her to the other room from here.
So I left her in front of the door and stepped back inside the room.
Thud—
As the door closed once more, I staggered and collapsed.
“Grk…”

The heat radiating from my body was making my mind go hazy.
It’s hot.
My body is incredibly hot, as if I’ve fallen into a furnace.
A moment ago, I had poured out the last of my magic.
It seemed the Crimson Blight took advantage of the empty space and accelerated its assault.
The Crimson Blight was consuming my entire body.
I felt as if an Apostle was beckoning me from afar.
Damn bastard.
I have no idea why they carry around a disease like this.
I closed my heavy eyelids.
The heat had evaporated all my sweat and saliva, leaving my lips cracked and dry.
A sense of languor, rather than pain, began to spread through my body.
I was slowly reaching my limit.
Maybe I should have just died once in the middle of it all.
But even I had never died by my own hand before.

Until now, I had always fought desperately to live.
Not once had I acted in order to die.
Killing yourself takes more courage than one might think.
But I couldn't guarantee that the Crimson Blight would kill me quickly.
Since death was already certain.
It was better to find peace quickly and recover.
The decision was made.
I fumbled at my waist.
There, I found the dagger Bulldog had given me long ago.
“Ah.”
A gasp like scraping metal escaped my lips.
Come to think of it, a place like Nox would have information on missing persons.
After this job, I should ask the Madame about Bulldog. Even if she has no information, after what I’ve done, she’ll at least look into it for me.
She wouldn’t be that heartless.
My consciousness is at its limit.
I reversed my grip on the dagger.
The hand holding it trembled.
The first time I choose death for myself.
I don't know if this will be the last time, or if there will be others after this.
But one thing is certain as of today: I am a courageous man.
Plunge!
The dagger, pulled with all my might, tore through the skin of my neck and embedded itself.
The blood that had pooled in my throat gushed out, blocking my windpipe.
Perhaps because my entire body was already numb with pain.
Thankfully, there was no distinct agony.
The vision in my other eye cut out.
My breath was cut off, and all my nerves began to shut down.
My consciousness faded away with them.
In the first death I chose for myself.
I dive into a deep, deep rest.
Come, sweet death.