The hospitals overflowed. From a normal one for common folk and nobles to the military base.
Yesterday, the report started of people getting poisoned from an unknown source. But it was spreading fast, even faster than Red Slumber and people who had still not recovered from losing parents and children were now in a panic.
The council was too late to give an announcement about the poisonous well and spring. They were too late to realize that the Lord of Calamity wouldn't play a fair game of war with them.
Rows of beds lined the marble halls, filled with soldiers and civilians alike. Some lay shivering, others gasped for breath, their veins darkening with the early signs of venom exposure.
The air was thick with antiseptic herbs and whispered prayers.
And still, they kept coming.
Marienne moved down the corridor with purposeful steps, her robes now turned into a black one, sleeves pushed to her elbows. Sweat clung to her neck—not from exhaustion, but from exertion.
