The first thing Cliff did was head to the patients.
"Examining patients from their symptoms is the most basic of basics."
Even as he said this, Cliff was already examining every single patient.
Not that it was all that different from what the medical team had been doing.
He used his magic eye to examine those with severe symptoms, interviewed those with milder cases, and cross-referenced their conditions against the charts the medical team had compiled.
That was about the extent of it.
"There's nothing to tell the Millis faith…hack, hack!"
Some patients were frightened just seeing Cliff's attire, and a few even harbored open hostility.
The Millis Church had been the most vicious persecutors of the Speld Tribe.
Many of them still remembered that.
"Just answer me—where did you first notice something wrong?"
That said, Cliff didn't seem to care about any of it.
A situation where not a single person you're trying to help is willing to cooperate—I'd probably have a mental breakdown halfway through.
As expected of Cliff.
"Hmm, I see."
After examining every last patient, Cliff seemed satisfied about something.
But I had a nagging feeling he still hadn't figured anything out.
No matter how much of a genius Cliff was, there were things he could know and things he couldn't…at least, that was my impression.
Besides, Cliff was a priest and a healing magic user, and maybe a researcher too, but he sure wasn't a doctor.
"Next, I'll talk to the attending physicians."
With that, Cliff began interviewing the medical team.
What examinations they'd conducted, and what they planned to do going forward.
He asked the two doctors who'd come from the Asura Kingdom separately.
"Basically, we plan to combine detoxification magic with medication and monitor the situation."
"Asura Kingdom doctors really aren't much, huh."
He let out a single huff.
I was speechless. So were the doctors.
For Cliff to adopt such an arrogant attitude…
It must have been getting to him—the Speld Tribe's attitude, that is.
"If that worked, Rudeus or Orsted would've cured them long ago."
"Then what does Lord Cliff intend to do?"
"That's what I'm about to find out."
The doctors' faces twisted.
Ah, Doctor, hold it together.
If this doesn't work, you can curse him all you want. Go ahead.
For now—just hold on.
But I was starting to get worried.
A moment ago I'd thought he seemed reliable, but was he really okay?
Norn, who was taking care of Ruijerd over there, looked anxious too—she kept glancing our way with a worried expression.
"Alright, Rudeus, let's go outside."
After parting ways with the doctors, we left the lecture hall.
---
As soon as we stepped outside, Cliff stopped to review his findings.
"Right, here's what I've learned so far. I spoke with the elder too, and apparently no Speld Tribe member has ever contracted this disease before."
"Before meaning—the elder is how old again?"
"Over a thousand years old, apparently."
The Speld Tribe really does have long lifespans…
"They contracted the disease after arriving on this land. So the cause lies somewhere in this location."
"Could it be something the Human-God brought in—some kind of poison?"
"No. If it were that sort of thing, my eyes would catch it."
With that, Cliff began surveying the village.
First, the farmland.
He carefully removed his eyepatch from each vegetable one by one, sometimes even splitting them open to examine the insides.
A perfectly fresh tomato lay sliced clean in half.
Come to think of it, if people learned that the Speld Tribe was doing ordinary farming, wouldn't public opinion about them shift a little?
Humans tend to feel kinship toward those who do the same things they do.
"Next."
He headed to the animal butchering area.
There were still some bloodstains, but the place had been cleaned up reasonably well.
The tribe members had apparently been in the middle of butchering when they collapsed, but leaving raw meat lying around was too risky, so on Shandor's orders it had been taken outside the village and discarded.
Cliff examined the knives and cutting boards there with meticulous care, using his Identification Eye.
"…I see. Rudeus, where is the meat from this place stored?"
"Um…over here."
I had no idea what "I see" was about, but I led him to the food storage.
Built partially underground, it was packed with dried meat, salted meat, and all manner of vegetables suited for preservation.
Cliff used his Identification Eye there as well, appraising each item one by one.
"Did you…figure something out?"
"Don't rush me. I need to see everything first."
After leaving the storehouse, Cliff began touring the village homes.
He went inside—checking the kitchens, the sleeping areas, even rummaging through clothes.
This was breaking and entering.
He was the hero Cliff, though.
That said, touring the Speld Tribe's homes really put into perspective how spartan Ruijerd's place was.
Other homes had flowers on display, paintings on the walls—you could feel the liveliness, the smell of everyday life.
This small piece of clothing—probably for a child?
Of course, when their symptoms were mild and someone was home, he asked permission first.
"The Millis faith…!"
"M-Mom…"
"It's okay. Calm down. He's safe."
Some people leveled spears at Cliff in his priest's garb, threatening him, but getting permission was never truly an obstacle.
"Lies! The Millis faith—they looked at us and just…ah, ah…"
"Mom? Mom!?"
Something had come flooding back—the mother was trembling.
Seeing that, her daughter clung to her with tears threatening to fall.
The Speld Tribe and the Millis Church.
Between them lay a chasm that could never be filled.
For people like me and Cliff, the persecution of the Speld Tribe was ancient history.
But in this village, there were still living victims.
"So, what do you normally eat? How do you prepare your meals?"
Cliff had zero ability to read the room.
The frightened mother, the trembling, anxious child—as if they weren't even there, he repeated his questions.
"Answer me quickly. You don't have much time left."
…Until they answered.
---
"Hmm."
And so Cliff toured every house in the village.
But I didn't think he'd found anything in particular.
At least, it felt like he'd simply gotten a firsthand look at Speld culture.
"Um, Cliff-senpai."
"Rudeus. There's no need to worry. They weren't afraid of me—they were afraid of these clothes.
And if I cure their illness while still wearing them, they'll come around. Right?"
Was it really that simple?
Well, even so, the little girl might come around.
I just wished it could be that easy.
"Alright, next."
With that, Cliff surveyed various parts of the village.
The central spring, the well, the warehouse, the supply yard—even the garbage dump outside the village.
"…"
Cliff was examining each one with painstaking care.
His expression was dead serious.
Seriously rummaging through the garbage dump, pushing aside rotting animal flesh.
What could his Identification Eye possibly be showing him?
All I could do was occasionally answer Cliff's questions.
And after we'd finished seeing everything in the village and the sky had grown completely dark, we made our way back to the clinic.
"So, Cliff-senpai, how's it going?"
"I've figured a few things out."
"Ohh."
"Lise, bring me my medicine case!"
Cliff's shout rang through the clinic, and Elinalise—who'd been helping with nursing—immediately sprang to her feet and took off running.
She grabbed the large backpack stowed in the corner of the clinic and hurried back over.
"Here you go!"
"Thanks, Lise."
Elinalise looked happy.
Was it because she'd gotten to see Cliff after so long?
Had she left the kids…with someone at home, or…?
"Listen, Rudeus. The route of infection follows certain patterns."
"Oh?"
"That said, I'm not a doctor, so I can't get into the fine details…but the bottom line is, the Speld Tribe contracted this disease after arriving here.
So I focused on the locally available food and examined it all with my Identification Eye."
"And? What did you find?"
"I found nothing abnormal."
Huh…?
"The soil, the water—none of it gives the impression of harboring any pathogens."
"You can detect that kind of thing with your Identification Eye?"
"Yeah. At least when it comes to food, I can trust it."
It was Xilica's custom-made magic eye, after all. Of course it was reliable when it came to food.
Anything that could give you a stomachache or make you sick would be instantly identified.
"Though they all display something like this: 'A tomato brimming with delicious, extraordinarily dense magical energy.'"
The Identification Eye's output was conversational.
"It wasn't just the vegetables. The soil, the water—all the same.
Extremely dense magical energy suffusing everything."
"…"
"I've seen it register that food contains dense magical energy before. But it's incredibly rare.
Never once has it shown up for soil or water."
Magic energy density.
Come to think of it, Aisha had mentioned something like that.
When she grew rice in soil I'd made, it had grown really well.
Could that have been because of the high density?
"So what does that mean?"
"Yeah. So here's what I want to ask—was farming common on the Demon Continent?"
"I don't know much about the Speld Tribe's life on the Demon Continent, but vegetables were almost nonexistent there. Not completely absent, but the variety was extremely limited, and their staple was meat."
"So that confirms it."
Cliff raised a finger with a snap and laid out his hypothesis.
"My theory is that growing vegetables in soil with high magic energy density produces crops with equally high magic energy density."
"Of course, soil varies. The Demon Continent's soil seems to have high magic energy density, but it lacks nutrients, so vegetables rarely grow there."
"The Great Forest doesn't show this kind of disease either, so this forest must be special.
The soil here, the water here—everything is saturated with magic energy.
On top of that, the soil here is incredibly rich in nutrients.
The result is plants with extraordinarily high magic energy density.
It might have something to do with there being only one type of monster in the area, but let's set the cause aside for now."
"That said, this shouldn't normally be a problem.
We go about our daily lives without worrying about any of this.
If it were related, there should be far more similar cases out there.
In other words, under normal circumstances, we should be able to expel the magic energy we absorb from our bodies.
The Speld Tribe shouldn't be any different."
"But what if they kept absorbing it continuously?
Not for ten or twenty years.
For a hundred years, two hundred years—what happens when you keep consuming high-density magic energy…?"
"The disease affects mainly adults, with children remaining relatively unaffected."
Having explained that much, Cliff turned to look at me.
He was right—for an epidemic, a remarkably large number of children had come through unscathed.
The Speld Tribe was hard to tell apart by age, but it probably wasn't a matter of immune systems.
"And we should know an example of someone who couldn't expel all the magic energy they absorbed."
An example of not being able to expel it all…?
Oh—Nanahoshi!
"So you're saying this is Dorein disease?"
It made a certain kind of sense.
The initial symptoms resembled a cold, with patients collapsing suddenly upon onset.
But if that were the case, Orsted would've…
No. Dorein disease was an old ailment.
It was entirely possible that Orsted didn't know the treatment—or even the name of the disease.
Hmm.
If no one had contracted it during the loops, Orsted wouldn't have known about it either.
And it wasn't like he could just ask Xilica the way I did.
"But there are many differences too. Lord Ruijerd hasn't been in this village that long."
"That's true…but wasn't his body possessed by Underlord Vita?
Perhaps that's why.
Either way, it's worth trying, don't you think?"
Cliff reached into his bag and pulled out a small box.
Inside were all manner of leaves and seeds, packed tightly together.
Cliff extracted one of them.
It was dried, but it was clearly Sokas grass.
"I had a feeling something like this might come up, so I got some in advance."
Always prepared.
"And we'll need this too."
What Cliff produced next was a red fruit from the edge of the box.
"What's that?"
"It's a base ingredient for a poison. It disrupts the magic energy in the body."
"A poison…?"
"Yeah. When I say poison, I mean just enough to stop a magician from using spells. That level."
Was it really safe to make someone drink that?
"According to the Identification Eye, people used to drink it alongside Sokas tea back in ancient times.
'Enhances the effects of Sokas tea, pairs well as a snack, and provides a pleasant sense of intoxication.'"
In other words, by Xilica's standards, it wasn't poison.
"The problem is…we have no idea what will happen if we give it to the Speld Tribe now."
"…"
"In my assessment, it should cure them. But it could also make things worse."
Probably safe, I thought.
But there was a chance it could worsen their condition to the point of death.
There were no guarantees.
"Well, no use overthinking it. Let's just ask."
After a moment's hesitation, Cliff said just that.
Then, with total resolve, he bellowed toward the inside of the clinic:
"I want to test a medicine on your illness! Is there anyone willing to take it?!"
"Ah, wha—Cliff-senpai!"
The clinic fell dead silent at his words.
People stared at Cliff—at his clothes—and some turned pale or openly looked away.
"Just one person! There's no guarantee it'll cure you!"
To test its effects, he didn't need everyone to take it.
One person would suffice.
But no one answered.
"The Millis faith…can't be trusted…"
Someone muttered it quietly.
I looked—it was a man who'd been at the elder council meeting.
If the leader was this hostile, asking nicely wasn't going to work.
But what could we do?
We couldn't exactly force them to drink it…
"I'll…drink it."
A hand went up.
The man struggled to sit upright, fixing us with sharp eyes.
The one holding his upper body up was Norn.
"Lord Ruijerd, you're awake?"
"Ah, yes. My brother just regained consciousness a while ago…"
It was Norn who answered my question.
But her voice was drowned out by shouts rising from all around:
"Ruijerd, are you really going to trust someone from the Millis faith?!"
"Exactly! After the war, who was it that hounded us the hardest? You of all people should know!"
Mostly the younger Speld Tribe members were speaking up.
And then, as if stirred by that, the medical team chimed in:
"Forcing people to drink some unknown concoction—this is unheard of!"
"Young man, did you even study medicine properly?!"
Perhaps the doctors' anxiety spread to the crowd.
Even those Speld Tribe members who'd been silent began voicing complaints.
An unknown medicine.
Brought by someone wearing Millis Church robes.
Some expressed worry. Others showed anger.
Confusion was spreading through the clinic.
"Do you want us all dead?!"
Ruijerd's roar brought silence crashing back over the clinic.
Those who'd been complaining shut their mouths, faces pale.
Those who'd been worried lowered their heads.
Ruijerd, who'd just delivered that thundering command, was coughing—hack, hack—and Norn was rubbing his back.
"This man was brought here by Rudeus. I trust Rudeus. If you have complaints, make them after I'm dead…"
In the quiet that followed, no one dared dissent.
It was a scene that made you realize just how much Ruijerd Speldia commanded in this village.
"Alright then, Lord Ruijerd. I'll have you take the medicine. I'm warning you in advance—there's a chance it could worsen your condition and kill you."
"That's fine. I've lived long enough. Dying now wouldn't be a regret."
No, but I'd regret it.
I was doing all this for the Speld Tribe—for Ruijerd.
Look, even Norn was making that "Ehhh?" face. Same opinion.
"If Ruijerd's willing to drink it, then I will too."
In the silence, another man raised his hand.
A relatively young man with mild symptoms.
Well, maybe not young—he could have been old, for all I knew.
"Ruijerd saved my life on the Demon Continent. If I'd died back then, there's nothing left to fear."
Those words sparked a chain reaction—hand after hand went up.
Dozens of them.
"The Millis faith can't be trusted. But Ruijerd is our hero. If this hero has made his decision, then we'll follow."
In the end, even the elder raised his hand.
And the elder spoke in a quiet voice:
"Young man of the human race—I offer my apologies for my earlier words and my earlier attitude. Please…save this village."
"Yeah. Leave it to me."
Cliff nodded firmly at those final words.
---
After drinking the red fruit and Sokas tea, Ruijerd and the others fell asleep.
At least, it hadn't killed them on the spot.
The results would come tomorrow.
I doubted Sokas tea alone would solve everything.
But I hoped—even a little—that it would help.
Even as I thought that, the day had drawn to a close, so I decided to rest.
Where to sleep—Ruijerd's house.
Somehow, my feet had carried me there naturally.
I hadn't gotten Ruijerd's permission, but this was where I wanted to stay.
"…"
Norn seemed to want to stay by Ruijerd's side, but since there was nothing she could do while he was sleeping, she came with me.
Now Norn and I sat across from each other, with the hearth between us.
It was quiet.
The crackling of burning firewood.
The bubbling of water in the pot set over the hearth.
Those were the only sounds.
The pot held vegetables and meat the medical team had brought.
Cliff had assured me it was probably fine, but…
I still couldn't bring myself to eat food from the very village that might be causing the disease.
"Brother…Lord Ruijerd will get better, right?"
Norn said it quietly.
She was worried.
I was worried too.
"Yeah. He'll get better."
"Really?"
"To my knowledge, whenever Cliff has declared he'd do something, he's always followed through. So maybe not tomorrow, but someday he'll cure him."
"Until then…will Lord Ruijerd still be alive…?"
"He'll be fine. You might've heard this already, but during the Laplace War, Ruijerd survived being surrounded by over a thousand soldiers. He's not going to die somewhere like this."
That was all I could say right now.
"I'm scared…"
Norn hugged her knees and buried her face in them.
The air was heavy.
There was still a while before the food finished cooking.
It wasn't strictly necessary to lighten the mood, but moping wasn't going to help.
Tonight was just eat, sleep, and nothing else.
At the very least, I wanted her to relax enough to get some food down and sleep well.
"Oh, by the way—Norn, how's school going?"
At that question, Norn raised her face halfway.
"…I've already graduated."
"I'm…sorry I couldn't make it. To, you know, the ceremony."
So she really had graduated without me there.
Nobody had told me.
But come to think of it—right, Sylphie had given birth, and…so it was already time for graduation.
Roxy or someone should've told me…
Well, even if they had, it wouldn't have helped at this point.
"You didn't have to come, you know."
No, but Norn's graduation…
Missing such an important event—
What could I even say to Paul in heaven?
"It's not like I was valedictorian or anything…"
"But you were student council president—you at least gave a speech, right?"
"Well, I did give the greeting. But I stumbled halfway through, nearly tripped coming down the stairs from the podium…it was a mess."
I could picture it.
Stumbling during the speech, losing her footing on the steps, but managing to catch herself without falling.
I wished I could've seen it.
Norn wore a bitter expression, but I would've loved to record it and leave it at her grave.
"Come to think of it, you said there was some kind of event before graduation. What did you end up doing?"
"…Cliff-senpai graduated the same year you were dueling all those people, remember?
We held a combat tournament, imitating that."
"A combat tournament! That sounds exciting. But isn't that dangerous?"
"We tried to keep the risks as low as possible.
By the rules, killing was prohibited. We borrowed the school's Saint-tier healing magic circle, stationed healing mages nearby,
had the teachers prepare multiple healing magic scrolls on top of that,
and made every participant sign a binding oath.
So while there were injuries, the death count was zero."
Impressive.
At the level of Magic Academy graduates, they could use some pretty lethal magic against each other.
Zero deaths in that context was remarkable.
Luck played a part, certainly, but it was also thanks to the solid safety net they'd built.
"I wish I could've seen it."
"From your perspective, it'd probably seem like child's play."
"But tournaments still get the blood pumping."
Back in my previous life as a shut-in, I'd participated in a few online gaming tournaments.
I never managed any noteworthy results, unfortunately, but…
That kind of atmosphere was great just to witness.
"Oh, were there prizes for the winner?"
"…There were."
At that, Norn pouted.
"The student council all chipped in our own money and prepared a bouquet, a certificate, and a magic staff."
A bouquet, a certificate, and a magic staff.
Yeah, that sounded about right.
They probably didn't have much of a budget, so that was generous.
"And then, as soon as Rinia saw that a lot of the participants were guys, she goes and blurts out: 'The prize for the winner is a passionate kiss from President Norn!'"
"What?!"
"It got everyone so riled up that I couldn't exactly back out…"
What the hell—a tournament where you could win Norn's kiss?
That wasn't okay at all.
Way too perverse. Completely unacceptable.
If I'd been there, I would've entered wearing a mask and gone all out…
Well, "going all out" might be problematic.
"So…did you do it?"
"…On the cheek."
The cheek. Then I guess it was safe.
But Norn turned bright red, buried her face in her knees, and started groaning.
I guess it wasn't safe for her.
After a while, she flopped sideways onto the floor.
"The winner said he'd never forget it for the rest of his life…I want to forget it."
"Got it. What's his name? And if you could give me his address and phone number too, a mysterious masked magician might just erase him from this world along with his memories."
"A phone number?"
"Never mind."
Norn sat back up, this time sitting on the floor properly—not cross-legged, but with her legs tucked to one side.
"Anyway, the tournament was a huge success."
"I don't know about that—I think it went well enough, all things considered, but there were plenty of mistakes, and I feel like all I did was reflect on them."
"That's what you call a huge success. Good for you."
"…Yeah."
Norn's face flushed slightly, and she nodded.
She wasn't looking so gloomy anymore.
"Alright, the potatoes should be done by now. Want some, Norn?"
"Sure."
I ladled the meat and potato soup into a bowl and handed it to Norn.
She stared into the contents for a long moment, then quietly said:
"Brother."
"Hm?"
"Thank you."
"Mm."
I served myself a bowl too.
I hadn't eaten anything all day—I was starving.
"But it doesn't taste very good."
…Sorry about that.
---
The next day.
Norn and I headed to the clinic the moment the sun rose.
"…"
All I could think about was whether Ruijerd was okay.
At least, the terrible potato soup had done its job—I'd slept well.
Even if things went badly, I had the stamina to keep up the nursing.
With a degree of resolve, I opened the clinic door.
"!"
What hit me was a wave of noise.
The clinic, which had felt like a wake just yesterday, was buzzing with activity.
Well, maybe "buzzing" was too strong. It wasn't quite that lively.
But at least, compared to yesterday, everyone looked better.
"Lord Rudeus!"
A doctor spotted me and came running.
"Look! Thanks to Lord Cliff's medicine, everyone is—"
It worked.
The Sokas tea had worked.
"Last night, those who took that medicinal brew suddenly began experiencing urgent bowel movements.
The nurses took them to the restrooms, and one by one they started passing light blue diarrhea.
After each episode subsided, they suddenly regained their vitality!
Those with severe symptoms still can't stand, but given a bit more time, I'm sure they'll be on their feet!"
I really needed to hear about blue diarrhea first thing in the morning.
Wait—light blue diarrhea?
"Now we're adjusting the dosage and administering it to everyone.
I must say, it was foolish of us to have doubted him.
That's the genius Cliff Grimoire—able to shatter even a curse!
Oh, but I can't stand around here talking. I have duties to attend to—excuse me!"
The doctor said his piece and ran off toward the patients.
Light blue diarrhea.
There was something nagging at me about it.
What was it? Light blue…light blue…
"Rudeus."
I looked up to find a large shadow looming before me.
A man in a black helmet and white robes.
"Oh, Lord Orsted."
"Have you seen the…excrement?"
"…No, not yet."
At my response, Orsted leaned in slightly and whispered softly in my ear:
"Those are the remains of Underlord Vita's split bodies."
Underlord Vita.
The moment I heard that name, a strange thought flickered through my mind.
Perhaps.
It was only a thought, but perhaps—
The disease hadn't been Dorein disease at all.
Underlord Vita.
That king had supposedly dispersed his split bodies throughout the village.
And he'd been suppressing the progression of the disease…
But maybe—just maybe—Vita had already cured the plague entirely.
He'd been using the split bodies merely to make the villagers feel unwell, as a threat…
And after his death, he'd used his final strength to command the split bodies one last time…
And the split bodies nesting in his intestines or wherever had been broken down by the red fruit and Sokas tea and flushed out…
Is that what had happened?
No—this was all speculation.
"If your suspicions are right, it's worth investigating further."
"…Right?"
Well, whatever.
The worst was over.
Underlord Vita had been defeated for good.
Let's just think of it that way.
"How's Cliff-senpai doing?"
"He stayed up all night monitoring the patients, then finally fell asleep near dawn.
He's probably at the vacant house nearby with Elinalise Dragonroad right now."
I see.
He'd worked hard.
He deserved his rest.
When he woke up, he might immediately jump into making a second child with Elinalise, but…
"Oh, and Ruijerd Speldia just woke up as well."
"He's awake!? Really?"
"Mm. Go see for yourself."
"If you'll excuse me!"
I bowed and headed deeper into the clinic.
Straight to where Ruijerd had been sleeping the day before.
He was there.
Sitting up in bed, eating with a healthy complexion.
"Lord Ruijerd!"
The moment I reached Ruijerd's side, Norn rushed forward and threw her arms around his midsection.
"Thank goodness…thank goodness, really…"
Norn was crying.
Always the crybaby, Norn.
Ruijerd looked troubled but smiled faintly, wiped his mouth, set his food bowl aside, and patted Norn on the head.
I watched the scene in silence for a while.
I felt like crying too.
"…Rudeus."
After a moment, Ruijerd looked up at me.
"Lord Ruijerd…are you really okay now?"
"Aye. I still can't swing a spear, but there's no problem."
I see.
Thank goodness—really, truly, thank goodness.
I couldn't help but feel the same relief Norn was showing.
"I owe you once again."
"Don't even start. Besides, you're not fully recovered yet. Don't let your guard down."
"Aye."
As our conversation started, Norn reluctantly let go of Ruijerd's stomach.
Then she covered her face with both hands and started sniffling.
"But let me say this first, Rudeus."
"What is it?"
Something serious—and a touch of worry—crossed his face.
Was there more?
Was I about to be hit with some shocking revelation right at this moment?
I tensed up, but Ruijerd said:
"When I've recovered, I'll lend you my strength."
"…"
What was this feeling welling up inside me?
It was like becoming companions with Ruijerd all over again.
Was it the thrill of that realization?
I was happy.
Just purely happy.
"I'd be glad to have you. Looking forward to it."
I swallowed whatever was rising in my throat,
fought back the heat building behind my eyes,
and extended my hand.
"And I'm counting on you."
Ruijerd's grip was warm, and strong.