The vial pulsed faintly in Cass's palm. The black liquid shifted, slow and heavy, like smoke drowned in oil. Each time it moved, a faint hiss rose inside the glass, as if the substance itself whispered.
[Item: Plague Resin – Rare]
Use with blueprint methods to craft wards against infection. Highly volatile. Dangerous to handle.
The words burned across his vision.
Cass sat cross-legged on the cavern floor, the shrine's glow spilling over him. He stared at the vial until his eyes blurred. He had faced monsters. He had survived a night in the open plain. He had bled with the Warbles against river gnashers. But this vial frightened him more than claws or teeth.
Because it wasn't just death in a fight. It was rot. Slow. Creeping. It could hollow a village before a blade was ever drawn.
And Propervy Bastion had thirty-two souls. Thirty-two breaths that could choke in the dark.
He closed his eyes, exhaling slow.
"I need to use this. Now."
He took the vial to Karrek.
The Stonecrafter sat at a bench near the quarry entrance, chisels spread before him. Dust powdered his arms, his eyes glimmering with the calm weight of stone. He looked up as Cass approached, brows raising at the vial.
"What is that?"
"Plague Resin," Cass said quietly. "A Wanderer gave it to me."
Karrek's face hardened. "Then throw it into the river. Nothing good comes from strangers with green lanterns."
Cass shook his head. "It's not a curse. It's a tool. The system gave me a quest—craft a ward with it."
Karrek stared long, then sighed. "If the system demands it, then stone will follow. Show me."
They spread tools across the bench. Karrek ground stone to dust, mixing it with resin scraped from glowshrooms. Cass crushed shards of obsidian, fingers trembling as the edges cut his skin. The vial hissed as its contents poured into the mixture, black tendrils curling through the pale dust.
The smell was sharp, biting, like rot soaked in vinegar. Warbles nearby wrinkled their noses, muttering. One spat into the dirt and crossed himself.
[System]:Progress: Crafting Plague Ward – 17%.
Cass wiped sweat from his brow. His hands shook. He forced them steady.
Karrek guided him. "Stir counter-clockwise. Keep the resin moving, or it will harden wrong."
Cass followed, his muscles aching. His breath came shallow. His mind replayed every hospital room he had ever sat in. The smell of antiseptic. The sight of tubes and wires. His mother's pale face.
He clenched his teeth. "Not again."
The mixture thickened, glowing faintly blue where glowshroom resin resisted the black. Karrek lifted a stone mold carved with runes. They poured the substance in.
It hissed, sizzled, hardened. The runes flared.
[System]:Progress: Crafting Plague Ward – 64%.
Cass's heart pounded. Almost there.
The mold cracked suddenly. A surge of smoke hissed out, curling around Cass's arms. His skin burned. He cried out, nearly dropping the mixture.
Karrek grabbed his wrist. "Hold steady!"
Cass gritted his teeth, forcing himself to keep the mold level. His arms trembled, but he held. The smoke seeped back into the resin, settling.
The runes glowed bright.
[System]:Progress: Crafting Plague Ward – 100%.
[System]:Item created: Plague Ward (Rare).
The mold opened.
Inside lay a stone tablet, no larger than a shield. Its surface was etched with runes glowing faint green-blue. The smell was sharp, but not rotting—cleaner now, sharper, like rain after fire.
Cass slumped, breath ragged. His arms shook. Sweat dripped down his back.
Karrek studied the ward, nodding slowly. "It will work."
Cass stared at it, chest tight. His first crafted defense. His first weapon against the unseen.
He whispered, "We'll be ready."
They carried the ward into the southern tunnel. The walls narrowed, damp with condensation. The smell of rot lingered faintly, sharp and sour.
The elder walked beside them, staff tapping the stone. Warbles followed in silence, their eyes wary.
At the mouth of the infected tunnel, they stopped. The air was thicker here. The stone looked darker, veins of black streaking across it like mold.
Cass swallowed hard.
He pressed the ward into the wall. The runes flared, burning green-blue. Smoke hissed from the stone, spreading across the tunnel mouth.
[System]:Plague Ward activated.
Effect: Reduces infection spread. Provides morale boost. Duration: Indefinite with maintenance.
The Warbles gasped. The black veins on the stone recoiled, shrinking, fading. The sour stench thinned.
The elder raised his staff. "The Dawn has answered. The rot is held."
The tribe roared, their cries echoing through the cavern.
Cass stood trembling, his hand still pressed to the ward. Relief surged through him, sharp and dizzying.
They were safe. For now.
That night, the Warbles gathered in the central cavern. Fires burned in pits, glowshrooms lighting the walls. They sang deep hymns, voices rumbling like shifting earth.
They sang of him.
The Child of Propervy. The sunfolk who brought light into shadow. The one who stood against rot.
Cass sat among them, a bowl of stew in his hands. The broth was thin, sour, filled with cave-crab meat. He ate anyway, each mouthful warming him despite the taste.
He listened to their voices, heavy with faith. His chest ached.
He hadn't meant to be their savior. He had only meant to survive. To earn. To save her.
But maybe faith could be a tool, too.
He whispered, "If they believe, then we endure."
The shrine glowed faintly, as if answering.
Later, alone in his alcove, Cass opened the settlement screen.
[Propervy Bastion – Hamlet]
Population: 34 (faithful)
Stability: Food steady; morale strong (faith rising)
Structures: Glowshroom farms, river access, Dawn Shrine, Plague Ward
Threats: Infection suppressed (southern tunnels); cavern beasts dormant
Potential: Expanding (faith strengthens unity)
He exhaled, relief mixing with dread. The infection was held. But not defeated. It would return. It would spread.
And next time, the ward might not be enough.
He clenched his fists.
"I'll be ready."