Episode 20: The Epidemic (2)
“You know the cause?”
Ella asked in surprise. Even the physicians of the imperial capital didn’t know the cause of epidemics, so whenever one broke out, nobles and even members of the imperial family had no choice but to lock their doors, pray to the gods, and wait for it to subside.
“Yes, I know the cause of this epidemic. And it can be prevented.”
“Then… why does nobody know this yet?”
“As soon as I discovered the cause, I tried to announce it. But everyone insisted epidemics were a punishment sent by an angry god, so no one believed me. I went to the officials to persuade them, but they also ignored everything I said.”
Ella and the duke finally understood why the old man had made such a scene—even suffering humiliation from the soldiers. But they couldn’t simply accept his words without proof, so Ella asked cautiously:
“Can you show us evidence?”
When Ella asked for proof, the old man, moved that someone was finally willing to believe him, nodded repeatedly and began to lead Ella and the duke.
“Of course. Please follow me.”
The duke and Ella turned away from the direction of the official’s residence and followed where the old man led. The farther they went, the stronger the stench that assaulted their noses.
“What is that smell?”
The duke asked, covering his nose with his sleeve.
“This, my lord.”
The old man pointed to a huge pile of filth. Manure from livestock, human waste, trash, and food scraps—all heaped into a mountain right beside a stream, giving off a nauseating odor.
“This is where the villagers dump their waste. But because of the continuous rain, the filth has seeped into the water people use for drinking. A few years ago, when an epidemic spread, we also had unusually heavy rains like this, didn’t we? This area floods often when it rains. Most of that waste must have been washed into the water.”
Hearing his explanation, the duke sighed. In the capital, sewage systems were well maintained, so no one piled waste in open areas like this. But in the underdeveloped central region, there were almost no such facilities. Only now, after hearing the old man’s explanation, did the duke understand why epidemics always centered around the central region.
“Do most people use this water for drinking?”
At Ella’s question, the old man nodded weakly. Nobles drank clean, healthy spring water, but commoners, who lived day-to-day, simply fetched whatever water was closest.
“Yes, they do.”
“But… how did you figure this out? That the epidemic was caused by contaminated drinking water?”
“Many people from my hometown died during the epidemic years ago. As a physician, I could do nothing. Since then, I’ve spent years studying the cause. I discovered that in villages with wells supplying groundwater, not a single person had gotten sick. That’s when I finally realized the disease came from contaminated water.”
“So if people were supplied with clean water, the epidemic could be prevented?”
Ella, shocked that the terrifying plague that had claimed so many lives could be prevented with something as simple as clean water, asked again.
“Yes. Clean water and a sanitary environment can prevent epidemics.”
The old man replied with firm conviction.
“Is there any treatment?”
“There is a treatment, but the effect is minimal. Someone who is normally well-fed and strong *might* recover by drinking a brew made from goldenseal roots and hawthorn berries. But as you know, the heavy rains ruined the year’s crops, and starving people have fallen ill on top of that… Even with medicine, there is little hope.”
Hearing this, the duke remembered the large amount of relief grain the imperial capital had sent to help the rain-stricken region.
“Didn’t you receive relief grain?”
“Relief grain? No, I never heard anything about grain being distributed to the people.”
The duke’s face hardened at the old man’s response.
“Someone embezzled it.”
After ordering his knights to protect the old man, the duke headed straight for the official’s residence, where the stolen relief grain had clearly vanished.
The soldier who had thrown out the old man earlier saw the duke—now approaching with a terrifying expression—and panicked, thinking the duke had returned to punish him. He dropped to his knees and begged.
“I—I’m sorry! I didn’t recognize you, Your Grace! Please, just this once—spare me…!”
“Where is the administrator sent from the capital?”
The duke ignored the kneeling soldier and asked about the official’s whereabouts.
“Huh? Ah—he’s inside the residence.”
“Lead me.”
The duke drew his sword and ordered the soldier to guide him. The soldier swallowed hard at the sight of the cold blade and, legs trembling, led the duke to the administrator.
The deeper they went inside, the more luxurious the residence became—expensive carpets and lavish furnishings everywhere. The duke clenched his teeth and gripped his sword harder. There was no way an ordinary administrator’s salary could afford such extravagance.
“H-he should be here. Then… I’ll take my leave.”
The soldier quickly disappeared after leading him to the administrator’s usual room, afraid of getting caught in any trouble. When the duke opened the ornate, carved door, an empty wine bottle rolled across the floor and bumped against his boot.
The administrator was snoring loudly on a plush red velvet sofa, utterly drunk, unaware of the danger. When the duke tapped the man’s protruding belly with his sword, the administrator mumbled in his sleep:
“Ngh… bring… more wine…”
“Wake up.”
“Mmm…”
Even at the duke’s command, the administrator didn’t wake. Finally, the duke slammed his sword onto the table covered in wine bottles. Only then did the administrator jolt awake in terror.
“W-what?! Who goes there?!”
Seeing the armed man radiating murderous intent, the administrator shouted:
“Guards! Drag this ruffian out at once! What are the guards doing, letting someone threaten me like this?! Do you know who I am?!”
He wiped drool from his mouth and screamed for guards—but the soldiers, knowing the duke had come to punish the administrator, ignored him. No matter how loudly he shouted, no guard appeared.
Sensing something was very wrong, the administrator blinked his crusty eyes and finally noticed—black hair, golden eyes, a cold aura… He looked just like the man nobles called the *Butcher*—Duke Glois.
His dry mouth barely moved as he stammered:
“L-Lord… G-Glois…?”
Without a word, the duke threw his identification token and the official imperial credential at the administrator’s face. The administrator turned pale and collapsed to the floor. He had committed so many crimes that he couldn’t even guess which one the duke had come for.
“This residence is quite luxurious. I didn’t know the salary from the capital was so generous.”
“T-that… was inherited wealth…”
The administrator trembled as he forced out an excuse. In reality, he was the second son of a viscount’s house. He hadn’t inherited a title or land, and he’d barely received any inheritance. Using his father’s connections, he got appointed as an administrator—and had since been siphoning taxes and relief grain to live comfortably. Most lords and administrators skimmed taxes, so he’d never felt much guilt.
“That crest… which house was it again? Brown, wasn’t it?”
The duke examined the crest on the administrator’s ring. A dove with spread wings—the mark of Viscount Brown.
“Yes… yes, I’m the second son of the late Viscount Brown.”
He answered cautiously, hoping there might be some connection that could save him.
“I see. The Brown estate… if I recall, most of its land is rocky mountains, and only half of it can be farmed. And such a poor household left enough inheritance for a second son to live in this luxury?”
The administrator shrank at the duke’s words—all true. Most of the Brown territory was useless rock, and the taxes collected from tenant farmers were extremely low. The estate had barely enough to feed a second son.
“T-that… that is…”
The administrator desperately searched for another excuse, but his wine-soaked mind could find none.
“You embezzled the taxes. And when we asked the villagers about the relief grain, they said they’d never even heard of it.”
“N-no! You can’t accuse me without evidence! I’ll report you to the senate!”
With no excuses left, he tried to bluster instead. But Ella entered carrying the ledger.
“We have the evidence here.”
When the duke went inside to confront the administrator, Ella had immediately reclaimed the tax ledger from the tax officer. The officer had resisted, but when the knight drew his sword, he surrendered it.
Despite his embezzlement, the administrator hadn’t even bothered to create a separate set of falsified books—making the discrepancies obvious at a glance.
Although there were signatures acknowledging the receipt of relief grain, there were no records of distribution. Funds meant for village administration had been spent on unrelated mansion expenses. Even the total tax income and expenditures didn’t match.
As Ella laid out the ledger and pointed out each discrepancy, the administrator’s face grew darker and darker as his crimes were exposed one by one.
