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Angele finally stopped thinking after a while, then he rubbed his temples and closed his eyes. The raindrops kept hitting the tent such that he could only barely hear the horses neighing. It was dark inside the tent. Angele calmed down and started to meditate. He was breathing rhythmically.

'Warning! Warning!' Zero suddenly reported. Angele was alerted when he felt his own wound itching.

'Infection?' Angele opened his eyes and looked at the wound.

He saw that there were still leftover fluids of the potion on it. The wound wasn't bleeding, but the area around the wound looked dark red.

'How should I deal with it?' Angele asked calmly.

'Analyzing…' Zero reported.

'Required materials: Golden Flower, 15 grams. Single-eyed Deer's eyes, 180 grams. The Bighead Fish, 520 grams…' Zero kept listing the necessary ingredients of the medicine that could stop the infection, but Angele looked disappointed.

'Where can I find all those random things in a forest?' Angele checked his wound again and saw some tiny stones growing rapidly around the wound. They were about the size of sesames; some were white and some were black. The infection was getting worse every second.

The tiny stones almost covered the wound. It looked quite grotesquely disgusting that Angele didn't even want to stare at it.

'I need to do something.' Angele bit his lips and started to pack up. He needed to get all those materials quickly. He had no idea what would happen if the infection wasn't cured.

Five days later.

It was noon.

Two robust horses were slowly advancing between the trees along a path. Angele, who was still in his tight hunting suit, was lying on the back of the first horse, but he was in low spirits. It was the fifth day since he had been inflicted with an infected wound. His face was pale and he was exhausted to the point of barely having any strength to control his horse.

"At least I found something to slow down the infection, but I still need a cure," he murmured. Angele had covered the wound with a handful of a black substance, preventing the tiny stones to spread outside the covered area.

Angele got off the horse after a while and decided to take a rest. He led the horses to a tree, then sat on the grass as he grabbed some food and started eating.

'How strong those bacteria are… They're much stronger than the ones on Earth, at least,' Angele thought as he drank some water from his canteen. He started to miss the world that had all the antibiotics people needed.

"I think I already crossed the border, so I should be in the Ramsoda Empire now. The map no longer has details of it; I can't rely on it anymore. I really want to know when I'll reach the closest town," Angele muttered. He stared ahead, but he could only see the sea of trees and the road between them.

Angele turned his head and saw a twisted path through the gaps in the bushes, yet he couldn't see the end of it.

The trees suddenly veiled itself within the mist, and at the same time, Angele's vision became fuzzy.

Noises of hooves stomping on the ground echoed within the forest as two white large carriages appeared from the thick fog. Each carriage had two white horses in front. On one of the two carriages, there was a middle-aged coachman who was at his mid-forties. He was a pudgy man who wore a gray hat on his head. The man was holding the reins, skillfully showing his control on the carriage.

The two carriages were painted in white, but some painted parts were peeling which revealed the dark-red wood.

"Father, how long until we reach Lennon City?" a girl from the leading carriage asked. Her voice seemed to belong to a young girl.

"Ten more days, maybe? We're half-way there, why do you ask?" a man answered.

"Ten more days?! Really…" The girl sounded disappointed.

"Yea. Our territory is far from Lennon City. There's nothing we can do about it," the man said.

"But we can…" The girl was trying to say something, but she was interrupted by the coachman.

"Milord, I can see a young man lying on the ground. I think he's dying," the coachman yelled.

"A young man? Where?" the man asked, opening the window to take a look. The man inside the carriage wore a white noble suit. He looked kind and respectable.

"Right there," the coachman said as he pointed to the left. The man turned his gaze at the direction the coachman was pointing at and saw a young man lying on the ground beside two black horses.

"What happened? Mark?" a lady asked.

"We saw a young man lying on the ground. He looked unwell," the man named Mark answered.

"A young man? Let me see!" the girl yelled.

"Is he from our territory? I haven't seen people from other countries in a while," she continued.

"Stop! Let's go and help him!" the girl kept yelling. The two carriages slowed down. A sinewy man in black plate armor got off the second carriage and walked toward the first carriage. He helped the girl get off the carriage. The girl was wearing a white one piece and had a pretty-looking face.

"Dunleavy, can you go with me?" The girl's skin was white and her blonde hair looked silky smooth, as though she was someone who came from a fairy tale.

"Sure," the man named Dunleavy replied. With a seemingly heavy beard, he began walking toward the unconscious young man while holding the left hand of the girl.

"Dunleavy, stay alert," the nobleman said. He helped the beautiful noble lady to get off the carriage.

"No worries, my lord." Dunleavy nodded.

They walked toward the young man with quick steps. As they arrived near to him, Dunleavy lowered his body to check on the young man and saw the wound on the young man's waist; it had a black color and produced an awful stench.

"He has an infected injury," Dunleavy said in a grave tone.

"Is he alright?" the blonde girl curiously asked after she jogged toward Dunleavy. Her appearance was akin to a princess's.

"I thought people scream after getting hurt. Why isn't he screaming?" the girl said as she tried pushing the unconscious young man.

"His wound is infected. I don't think he's conscious. His breathing is weak, and he's dying," Dunleavy smiled before explaining.

"He's dying?" With a nervous face, the girl asked.

"Yes," Dunleavy replied.

"We need to help him! We're close to Lennon City, anyway," the girl said.

"Well… I'm afraid we can't… Ask your father," Dunleavy said. The nobleman was already slowly heading in their direction with his wife.

"We've no idea who this man is. If he's a spy, we'll be in trouble," the man said with a soft-spoken voice.

"Also, he's injured. Whoever injured him is probably still looking for him. If we help him, we'll become the targets instead," he continued.

"But Father…" The girl tried to say something.

"No means no!" the man said.

"Get back inside the carriage, Avril!" He was nearly yelling.

"But Father, what if he's a prince of another country? If we save him, he will… he will…" the girl replied.

"You told me a lot of stories like that! That's how princes meet their lovers!" she yelled.

"Well… stories aren't real." The man looked speechless.

"Avril, listen to your father, get back inside the carriage. We need to hurry." The lady stepped forward to intervene.

"No!" Avril refused to move.

"I can guarantee you that this young man isn't a prince. Let's go," the nobleman said.

"If you don't help him, I'll stay here forever!" the girl yelled as she stared at the other three.

Ten minutes later…

There were two black horses following the white carriages in the back.

"Where am I…?" Angele opened his eyes slowly and looked around. He was inside a carriage, and two swordsmen in black plate armor suits were sitting right beside him. Avril was sitting beside one of the swordsmen, looking at Angele curiously.

"We saw you unconscious near a bush, so I saved you," Avril said, her face showing a 'thank me already' expression.

"Really? Thank you," Angele said after he smiled. In actuality, he was conscious the whole time and could still see and hear things clearly. However, he was too weak to do anything. He wanted to continue traveling, but he caught a fever so he decided to lie down for a while. Angele wanted to move after he woke up, but his fever became worse and his wound began aching. He knew that two carriages were coming and even heard everything those people said, yet he really couldn't stand up nor could he move his lips at that time.

Angele was uncertain about what caused the fever. It could be the infection, but it could also be the weather. Although he had the chip, Angele needed to search for the medicine by himself. He was lucky that someone stopped to help him.

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