Shadow Slave novel Chapter 3043

The walls of the city had withstood a year under a relentless siege. Effie and her mercenary army, as well as the inhabitants of the city whom Morgan had armed and trained, defended them with their lives, soaking the ancient stones with their blood. There were more than a few champions from other realms who had come to join the battle against Azarax, too. Overall, the forces supporting the Mason were quite fearsome, easily comparable to one of the Great Clans at the peak of their power.

The terrifying horde had descended upon the city a dozen times, but was repelled over and over again... even if the cost of these victories was dire.

Azarax commanded a nearly endless number of soldiers, so he could simply continue to throw them at the walls of the defiant city and wait for its citizens to fall to attrition. Behind him was a vast empire that spanned a hundred realms, capable of producing an almost infinite amount of resources to sustain the siege...

But it wasn't that simple.

The kingdom Azarax had built with fire and blood was a gluttonous beast sustained by conquest. If there were no new riches, spoils, and slaves flowing into its maw from the battlefield, it would starve and fall sick. It could even fall apart entirely.

More than that, what kept the beast from rebelling against its master was the fearsome reputation and dreadful prestige of the Plague of Steel — a relentless conqueror who had never been defeated.

If an insignificant Domain encompassing a single city — and a pacifist city, at that — managed to stall the conquest for a prolonged period of time, his prestige would be wounded, and his tyrannical hold on the unstable Domain would weaken.

So, Azarax had no incentive to be patient. Since a year of direct assaults had not produced the desired result, he was bound to turn his attention to more insidious means of warfare. Morgan had been anticipating it for a long while, and now, her warnings seemed to be coming true.

The plague that was slowly spreading in the city was a strange one. Its first symptom — hand tremors — was easy to miss. By the time the disease developed, though, it was already too late to stop it.

The infected seemed to rot from inside, their blood turning black and viscous. Then, it started to seep from ghastly sores, from their orifices, and even through their pores. In the end, those who had contracted the plague died in horrible agony.

Mundane medicines were powerless against the plague, and since it spread through any means of personal contact while being difficult to detect during the early stages, preventing new cases was difficult.

The plague was deadly and mysterious...

Its source, however, was known to all.

A month ago, just before the previous assault, the trebuchets that had bombarded the walls of the city with stone projectiles before were loaded with far more morbid ammunition. This time, what they sent flying into the city were corpses — the rotting corpses of Azarax's own soldiers that were piled under the walls.

Not unfamiliar with the risk of disease in time of war, as well as with ways to weaponize it, Morgan sent squads of soldiers in protective gear to collect and dispose of the corpses.

A week later, however, the hands of the corpse collectors started to shake.

And a week after that, most of them were dead.

It was then that they understood the true nature of the disease. This plague was not natural — it had been created by a cabal of sorcerers that served Azarax, engineered to be as stealthy and virulent as possible, meant to destroy the city from within.

The plague had escaped into the streets of the city by then, though, and even Morgan was not sure how to eradicate it — short of culling the population to kill and burn all current carriers.

That would weaken the defending forces, too, not to mention destroying their morale. So, at the moment, things seemed to be turning from bad to worse for Effie and her companions.

She sighed.

“How is Seishan doing?"

Kai covered his nose with a hand and answered in a reserved tone:

"She is... struggling.”

Effie grimaced.

"Let's go pay her a visit, then."

Leaving the burning pyre behind, they walked away from the city gate, navigating their way through a maze of burned and devastated streets. As they did, many soldiers welcomed them with reverent bows and salutes, some even going so far as to kneel and press their foreheads against the ground.

Effie herself was surprised to still be alive. Needless to say, the six Transcendent champions who had managed to fight back against the Plague of Steel for an entire year earned a legendary status among the locals. They were venerated like gods by now, their orders carrying more weight than even those of the Mason and his descendants. That could have resulted in tiresome internal friction, but luckily, both the Supreme lord of the city and his heirs were quite reasonable, wisely avoiding becoming enemies with the very people who were defending their people.

Effie was not new to military command, but she had never experienced such a catastrophic level of casualties among her soldiers. The same people who looked at her with reverence and admiration today would be dead tomorrow, added to the great funeral pyres like the one they had left behind just minutes ago. So, their faith was a heavy burden.

She forced a confident smile to appear on her face and responded to respectful greetings with nods of acknowledgment.

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