Pandora Unchained - a Cultivation Progression Fantasy

"Impossible." Governor Loveless appeared beside Sorin and erupted with divine mine. His intrusive and powerful spirituality bore into the sickly mortal maid, causing her cells to begin undergoing large-scale collapse."

"Governor, you're killing her!" shouted Physician Olivander. She appeared beside the maid and poured her three-star life mana into the poor maid's body. Though powerful, the three-star physician was barely able to keep her alive as Governor Loveless completed his ruthlessness examination.

"If this is the way you'll be acting, Governor Loveless, I'm afraid I won't be able to help your daughter," Sorin coldly warned as the maids inched closer to the point of no return. A mortal's body could barely withstand Physician Olivander's healing, let alone an untrained demigod's roughshod scanning methods.

Governor Loveless returned Sorin's glare, and in the end, he pulled back his mana and spirituality. The lesions on the maid's body closed as Physician Olivander reverted to more gentle means of treatment.

"Her body's condition seems to match my daughter's, but I fail to see how this is possible," said Governor Loveless. "Cultivators and mortals seldom suffer from the same afflictions. Even untrained individuals like me know this."

It was a little more nuanced than that, but Sorin did not correct the demigod. "Since we've identified that this disease is contagious, precautions must be taken. First and foremost, isolation and quarantine. I disinfected this room the moment I entered it, so any who came after my arrival have nothing to fear. From now on, those entering to treat Aeris or her maid must follow strict infectious disease protocols."

"Then… are you saying everyone present in this room earlier might be infected?" asked the Governor. "My wife and son were here for a visit earlier. They didn't touch her or any of her things. Surely they'll be fine."

"It's difficult to say," said Sorin, shaking his head. "That said, there is a silver lining. Physician Olivander, how is your condition? Vice-Commander Penrose, would you kindly come over for an examination?"

Sorin examined the Vice-Commander as Physician Olivander examined herself. "My condition is normal."

"So is Vice-Commander Penrose's," said Sorin. "Which leads me to believe that this disease, while capable of infecting mortals and Bone-Forging cultivators, is unable to affect Flesh-Sanctification cultivators."

"But we can't discount the possibility of them serving as carriers," cautioned Physician Olivander.,

"Agreed," said Sorin. "But if the limit of the disease is two stars, that means I should be able to purge any Flesh-Sanctification cultivators exposed to Aeris and her maid.

"As for those at the Bone-Forging Realm and lower, we'll need to isolate anyone that's interacted with Aeris since her symptoms began. Any who fall ill must be further isolated and promptly treated. Since it appears that symptoms develop abnormally quickly, I will prepare emergency doses of Six-Foot Slumber in three different grades, to be given only to those who begin showing symptoms of the disease."

"Wait," interrupted Governor Loveless. "Can you not purify my wife and child as well?"

Sorin shook his head. "Unfortunately, I can only purify individuals via targeted methods if I know exactly what I'm up against. Since that is not the case, I can only use the crudest methods—methods that would prove lethal to Bone-Forging cultivators."

Though the governor clearly had more questions, he was an intelligent individual and saw that there was no time to waste. He first allowed Sorin to purify all the Flesh-Sanctification cultivators in the room, then had Sorin and Olivander inspect his wife and son to ensure that neither of them was displaying any symptoms.

A half-hour later, all those who'd interacted with Aeris since she'd fallen ill were rounded up. To prevent panic, they didn't immediately spread news of the illness. They did, however, alert the higher-ranking physicians in the city to keep an eye out for people with similar symptoms.

Time was of the essence, so Sorin summoned his companions and assigned them tasks. "Lawrence, I'll need to trouble you to double-check all information about Aeris's activities since she fell ill and going back four weeks."

"Four weeks?" exclaimed Lawrence. "Isn't that overkill?"

"Illnesses like these can have incubation periods that last months," explained Sorin. "But such diseases are rare. By going back four weeks and identifying potential sources of infection, we'll cover 99.9% of cases. Gareth, will you be able to work freely in this city? I've seen how adventurers look at you. They don't like Nighthawks one bit."

"Lend me Fenrig, and I'll manage," said Gareth. "I take it you want me to investigate the flora, fauna, and geographic features within a certain distance of Mildred?"

"Within a hundred miles of it, if you can, and within a hundred miles of anywhere Aeris has been according to Lawrence's investigation," said Sorin. "While you're at it, perhaps you can have Fenrig look into more occult possibilities, like whether or not witches can be evil."

"An honored Matron would never do something so heinous as to spread disease," protested Fenrig. "Though now that you mention it, the Face Stealers are sometimes known to pose as Matrons to win the trust of mortals."

"I'm not really expecting you to find anything," confessed Sorin. "But given the situation, it's best if we leave no stone unturned. Now, Lorimer, you're our backup plan. We've told the physicians to look out for people with matching illnesses, but the symptoms are too varied. You can remember the smell of this illness, though, can't you?"

"Ree!"

"Very good," said Sorin. "I'll leave monitoring in your capable claws."

Then what about me? said Azrakul in a soft but enticing voice once all his friends were gone. You'll turn to me for help, won't you?

"Now's not the time, Azrakul," Sorin muttered. But was there a better time? He wasn't sure if it was him who thought this or Azrakul who whispered it. Either way, he ignored the thought and continued to his next destination, the Mildred Public Hospital.

Hospitals varied from region to region in terms of competency and equipment, and Mildred's hospital, despite staffing two three-star doctors, was behind in terms of monitoring equipment and their use of apothecaries and poison-based physicians. This was largely due to the hospital's Chief Physician, Howard Bilken.

Chief Physician Bilken was one of the first physicians Sorin approached before starting his local practice, and unsurprisingly, the hundred-and-fifty-year-old fossil of a physician wanted nothing to do with him. It was Physician Olivander, the hospital's second three-star physician, who suggested that he seek out Physician Mathews and Physician Laurey to collaborate.

Despite its lacking technology and outdated ways, there was one thing Mildred had no lack of: cases and case history. Its location between the ever-expanding Nightmare Forest and the North Parnassus Forest exposed the city to many uncommon afflictions, often brought back to the city by unknowing adventurers.

Sorin, therefore, both dreaded and welcomed the challenge posed by the hospital's archives, which were supervised and maintained by a veritable fossil of a record keeper.

"It's a little disorganized, but if you set your mind to it, you'll find that there is a system," said an old record keeper, turning a black iron key to reveal row upon row of shelves stacked with thick books and unpublished manuscripts. "The problem is that the physicians at this hospital don't seem to care much about protocol and throw their records wherever is convenient.

"I've tried to fix their stubborn behavior countless times over the years, as did my processor. Unfortunately, Chief Physician Bilken is a bit… set in his ways. What's more, his track record is impressive enough that the younger physicians in this hospital idolize him. His bad habits inevitably rub off on them."

Sorin sighed as he picked up a stack of cases. They ranged from one-star to three-star and covered anything ranging from toe fungus to pancreatic failure. "I don't suppose anything here is recorded on jade slips?"

"Jade slips?" said the archivist dryly. "With our budget, you're lucky we have shelves."

Sorin couldn't review all this information by himself. Even with his reading speed and memory, it would take him months. This was a time he didn't have.

It took some haggling and an anonymous donation, but Sorin was eventually given a registered key to the archives and permission to bring up to five guests to help him search.

His next stop was the Mildred Outpost Museum, where, according to the Governor's men, Astley was busy studying historical artifacts. The reason she hadn't been taken to the Governor's manor earlier was simple: no one in the city guard could approach her without suffering from severe audible and visual hallucinations.

A wave of disorientation washed over Sorin as he entered the museum's artifact evaluation room at the direction of the museum's curator. He spotted several artifacts similar to those he'd seen in the marketplace. Judging by their auras, over 90 percent of the artifacts in the marketplace were fakes and imitations.

"Are there any precautions I should take before entering?" Sorin asked the museum curator, who'd escorted him this far.

"Don't look at anything for so long, try not to touch anything, and try not to understand anything you do learn too deeply," said the curator. "What she's doing has put this entire museum at risk. Though we're duty-bound to assist the Order of Phantasia, indulging this madness is not part of it." He was clearly displeased by Astley's recklessness in analyzing artifacts and historical records."

"You mentioned a request before escorting me here," said Sorin. "What is it that you would like? I can offer you a Bone-Unsealing treatment for the inconvenience."

The curator scoffed. "What need would the museum have for a single bone unsealing? It would be much better if you could get her out of here and ensure that she never returns."

Sorin eyed Astley and gulped. The myth binder was currently surrounded by a cloud of mind-numbing characters; just looking at them gave Sorin a headache. "I'll see what I can do. I happen to have a matter that should keep her busy for a few days at least." The curator's cultivation realm was much lower than Sorin's, so he excused himself lest he be affected by Astley's work.

The artifact evaluation room was dark and dusty. Trinkets were stacked upon shelves in the back, while larger artifacts—likely finds from adventuring teams—were kept on sealed inspection tables. Lines of tight runic script prevented curses, corruption, and other malignant influences from leaking out. Judging by the layout of the room, there would normally be two or three individuals working on a single artifact.

Astley's object of study was an aged bronze coin engraved with ancient letters. It was floating in a ritual circle that peeled off images and scripts from the coin, much like a detective would retrieve tidbits of seemingly useless information from a crime scene.

"It's almost hidden in plain sight," muttered Astley as Sorin approached. "On the one hand, there are divine blessings of Charon. It's clearly being eroded, but by what? There is no Madness, no Violence, no Hatred, Jealousy, or Strife. Death and Disease don't meddle in such matters, which eliminates all seven suspects. Are Outsiders the key, or is the answer the most horrifying answer of all?"

Sorin picked out a few other words like 'interference' and 'obvious conflict' before she switched to another language. Then, all he could recognize were names he'd learned from the Ancestral Steles in the Temple of Asclepius and the Temple of Apollo.

Though it seemed she was onto something, there was no time to waste. "Astley," he called out, using his aura to amplify his voice and cut through the spell circle. "Astley!"

Astley ignored him, however, and began drawing symbols in the air. The symbols were unlike common spell runes or even ancient letters. They twisted and rearranged themselves as she drew, as if trying to hide their meaning from their original writer.

"Astley!" said Sorin a third time. She must have heard him this time because her glazed eyes immediately regained some clarity. She put the coin down, and the headache-inducing distortion in the room disappeared as the artifact table resealed the item.

"How long has it been?" Astley asked Sorin. "It definitely hasn't been a week. My analysis this time shouldn't have taken more than half a day."