Volume 1, Chapter 39 – The Darkborn Disease

After Claire’s explanation, the three of them stepped outside the tent.

The so-called Darkborn Disease was a strange illness that, once contracted, gradually turned the victim’s body black. Each stage brought unbearable agony and loss of consciousness. Most sufferers couldn’t endure the torment and took their own lives long before the disease fully manifested.

The most despairing part was that neither healing magic nor medicinal potions with curative effects could treat or alleviate the Darkborn Disease. Those who died from it couldn’t even be reanimated by necromancy. As a result, even despised necromancers refused to handle the bodies of Darkborn victims.

As for the origin of the name “Darkborn Disease,” it was coined by the Church.

According to Church doctrine, people contracted the Darkborn Disease because they had conspired with the Darkborn, surrendering themselves to darkness. The blackening of their bodies was proof of their allegiance. Normal people who touched a Darkborn sufferer would be lured by the Darkborn in their dreams, becoming one of them. Thus, those afflicted were not only feared and shunned by others but also had to evade Church inquisitors. If caught, they would be publicly burned at the stake.

It was reminiscent of medieval witch hunts.

The blackened man was still struggling, seemingly impervious to exhaustion. His pained howls showed no sign of weakening, while the five or six men pinning him to the bed had already been replaced by a new group, now binding him tightly to the wooden plank with coarse ropes.

“This guy’s done for.”

“Stay away from him—don’t let it spread.”

A little farther away, a crowd of onlookers who had emerged from their tents watched, whispering behind their hands and pointing at the blackened man. The human wall they formed nearly blocked the entire path.

With a grave expression, Claire approached the man. He wore only shorts, leaving the rest of his body exposed. The blackness beneath his skin stretched from his forehead down to his feet. If not for the uneven, patchy distribution of the dark splotches, Fia might have mistaken him for someone of a naturally dark-skinned race.

“Make way for Miss Claire.”

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The leader waved his hand, signaling his men to clear space for her. By now, the Darkborn sufferer was securely tied to the plank, unable to move. He could only tense his entire body, twisting his neck as he let out incoherent cries of anguish.

“—『Dispel Light』”

Muttering the incantation, silver points of light emerged along Claire’s outstretched right arm. The faint glow drifted toward the man, and within moments, his screams ceased. His eyes slowly closed as he fell into a deep slumber.

The tall leader immediately stepped forward.

“Miss Claire, how is he? Can he be saved?”

“Just as you said—once it flares up again, he’s finished. The black spots have spread across his entire body. Even the areas that were untouched before have turned gray. Let him say his goodbyes when he wakes up—and make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid that could harm others. The Darkborn Disease isn’t contagious. That’s just the Church’s way of controlling you.”

“Tch.” The leader crossed his arms, frustration evident. “Can’t you suppress it? If it doesn’t flare up one last time, he won’t die.”

“If I could, I would. But if there were a way to control the Darkborn Disease, the Church would’ve already made use of it before me.”

Lifting the white cloth covering the bamboo basket, Claire took out a paper-wrapped packet of medicinal powder and handed it to the slum leader.

“All I can do is knock him out so he survives this stage. The medicine will ease his pain for a while. Make sure he takes it when he wakes.”

“Ah—thank you. The payment—”

“I didn’t do much. Don’t worry about it. Was this man important to you?”

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“He took a hit for me once. He’s one of my trusted men.”

Unwilling to dwell on the subject, the leader clicked his tongue and gestured to the side.

Only then did Fia notice the weeping women and children nearby—likely the family of the blackened man.

“Take him back. Keep an eye on him—don’t let him run off.”

“Leader, isn’t there any other way? He’s always been loyal to you!”

The woman’s plea made the leader pause before he shook his head.

“Even Miss Claire says there’s no hope. There’s nothing I can do.”

“What about the temple? If we take him there, maybe they can—”

“Hey, have you lost your mind? The temple’s just waiting to get their hands on Darkborn sufferers! You’d be sending him to his death!”

The leader’s rebuke stunned the woman into silence. For families like hers, losing the man of the house meant being left with insurmountable debt and a life of begging.

I wonder if my nanomachines could work on the Darkborn Disease.

Though curiosity gnawed at her, Fia held her tongue. This wasn’t the tent—she didn’t want others witnessing the healing properties of her blood. Anastasia had disguised her well enough that no one would recognize her as the elf princess, but news of “someone curing what even the Church couldn’t” would spread just as explosively. She had no qualms about opposing the Church, but dragging Claire into the mess would weigh on her conscience.

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Gradually, the woman’s breathing grew ragged, her eyes wild with hysteria.

“It’s those hidden Darkborn sufferers! It’s all their fault! If they hadn’t sneaked in here, my husband would never have gotten sick! It’s all their fault! Leader, we should round up all the Darkborn criminals and hand them over to the temple!”

“Calm down. The Darkborn Disease isn’t contagious.”

“That’s impossible! Even the Pope confirmed it spreads!”

The woman’s voice rose sharply before her frenzied expression suddenly brightened with hope. She stopped addressing the leader and instead dropped to her knees before Claire, clutching at the hem of her dress.

“Doctor, you must have a way to save him, right? You must! He’s the backbone of our family—we can’t survive without him! Please, think of something! We’ll pay any price!”

“Don’t trouble Miss Claire.”

The leader stepped forward, gripping the woman’s shoulder to pull her away, but she twisted free, her knees scraping against the muddy ground as she lifted despair-filled eyes toward Claire.

“Hmm…” Claire hesitated before gently resting her hand over the woman’s. Softening her tone, she said, “I’ll try one more time. But don’t get your hopes up.”

“Thank you! Thank you!!”

The woman’s despair instantly gave way to desperate hope. As if afraid of disturbing Claire further, she scrambled to her feet and stepped aside, allowing Claire to return to the man’s bedside.

This time, Claire first sprinkled an unknown liquid over him before chanting a far more complex incantation. In no time, clusters of silver light materialized around her.

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As the light merged with the man’s body, the blackness of his skin rapidly faded. Then, his eyelids twitched. With a rasping groan, he awoke from his slumber.

“Ugh…”

The miraculous sight left everyone speechless. It wasn’t until the woman threw herself onto her husband, sobbing uncontrollably, that the stunned crowd snapped back to reality.

What followed was simple. The ropes were untied, and the man excitedly examined himself. The incoherent, monstrous howler from before was gone—replaced by a man brimming with vitality.

“This is all thanks to you, miss!” The woman who had begged Claire earlier rushed over, breathless with emotion. “W-we didn’t even ask your name! Please, tell us—we’ll bring the payment to you as soon as we can!”

“Claire. I run a clinic not far from here. You can give the money to him—I’ll collect it from him later.”

Expressionless, Claire pointed at the slum leader.

“O-okay! I’ll make sure to bring it to you, Miss Claire!”

Without another word, Claire gave a slight nod and watched the family leave. As the man departed, the onlookers dispersed under the leader’s urging, leaving only Fia and Claire in the now-empty street.

Only then did Fia look up, her gaze searching Claire’s eyes.

“Claire… he wasn’t actually cured, was he?”