"Phase Summary: It is now confirmed that BS61-1—commonly known as Withering Plague—is a man-made mystical plague pathogen. It is highly advanced and clearly rooted in profound mysteries of the Chalice, suggesting a high degree of technical mastery. Most likely, it originates from southern cults.”
“BS61-1 can spread through multiple vectors: water, respiration, and blood. Its primary symptom is fatigue, with late-stage cases often accompanied by nausea and severe body pain. However, it carries a low fatality rate and rarely induces complications. On the microbial level, the pathogen dominates all competition and appears to have no natural nemesis—including the human immune system.”
“BS61-1 possesses extremely rapid, autonomous adaptive mutative evolution. Its transmissibility, pathogenicity, and adaptability can all rapidly increase over time. Its adaptability, in particular, evolves more quickly during resistance encounters with the host immune system—even when reinforced by Redeemer power.”
“The microscopic pathogen of BS61-1 has an extraordinarily efficient structure—nearly all of its components serve functional roles in enhancing its three key attributes: transmission, pathogenicity, and adaptability. There is virtually no structural redundancy—something unseen in naturally evolved pathogens.”
“BS61-1 exhibits a unique hyperdimensional unity, which is the key to its extraordinary speed of evolution. It appears to possess a collective intelligence that can at least recognize and prioritize traits related to transmissibility, pathogenicity, and adaptability—and adjust its mutations accordingly.”
“While the mutations of individual pathogens are random, BS61-1’s collective intelligence selects favorable traits—those enhancing its three core attributes—from among its massive population of variants. Once such a trait appears, BS61-1 uses it as a blueprint to guide the rest of the population, rapidly assimilating all strains toward that trait and eliminating all others.”
“Because every single pathogen contributes to the species’ evolution, BS61-1's evolution rate scales with infection size. The more hosts infected, the faster it evolves.”
“The primary symptom—fatigue—seems to stem from BS61-1 extracting the host’s Chalice. It behaves almost like a tumor, steadily draining vitality. Infected individuals show a net loss of Chalice beyond what BS61-1 needs for survival or reproduction. The destination of this surplus Chalice remains unknown—but it may be transported elsewhere via BS61-1’s hyperdimensional link.”
“Based on our studies, BS61-1’s will—or ‘soul’—appears to reside in all of its entities collectively. There is no central controlling consciousness; no one individual is guiding or commanding its evolution or infection. Its infection behavior is identical to that of ordinary plagues, while its evolution follows an autonomous mechanism.”
“Its will is not highly intelligent, but it adheres strictly to a set of internal rules that guide its overall evolution.”
“Rule One: BS61-1’s autonomous evolution never stops.”
“Rule Two: While natural variation does exist among individual pathogens, once every 24 hours, BS61-1 performs a total synchronization. This assimilation filters for optimal traits and purges all others, essentially granting the entire species a collective evolutionary upgrade. All intra-species differences are wiped out, keeping the entire strain at peak performance.”
“Rule Three: BS61-1 identifies "optimal traits" as those that enhance adaptability, transmissibility, or pathogenicity—in that order of priority. Adaptability is ranked first. BS61-1 prioritizes strengthening variants that show high resistance potential, followed by traits aiding in spread or causing illness.”
“This prioritization of adaptability reflects the plague's design—its creators clearly intended it to survive prolonged confrontations with Redeemer healing. It can now be confirmed that the use of Redeemer power—particularly the killing of pathogens—accelerates BS61-1's evolution toward stronger adaptability, weakening the effectiveness of Redeemer-based cures.”
“The southern cults intentionally released BS61-1 in Busalet, clearly as part of a much deeper plan…”
“BS61-1... is the most formidable and troublesome plague I’ve ever seen. It has already surpassed my capabilities—not just mine, but perhaps even those of Crimson-rank Redeemers. The deeper I understand it, the more hopeless it feels…”
“And yet, even so… this is not the time to give up. With the Mufah Council unable to provide aid, Busalet has no one left to rely on but me. Whether I have a way forward or not—I must find one…”
…
In the scorched underground archive of the ancient city of Bastis, beneath the ruins of the once-grand library, Dorothy’s corpse marionette sat inside the former laboratory of Jemal, a Redemption Path Beyonder of the Savior’s Advent Sect. She examined the stacks of lab logs and personal journals on the desk.
Through those densely written documents, Dorothy—miles away—learned how the sect’s healers had fought against the extraordinary plague over the past few months. She could not help but sigh softly.
“These people… really didn’t have it easy.”
Seated in her own tent, Dorothy murmured with a sigh. In her view, Jemal and the other Savior’s Advent’s Redemption Path Beyonders had given their all to resist Withering Plague—only to meet a tragic end.
“With internal sabotage and a plague this powerful, getting as far as she did was no small feat. Jemal’s understanding of the disease is incredible—honestly, she’s far more competent than the Church’s average White Ash-rank Redemption Path Beyonders… well, except for someone like Vania.”
Dorothy mused. Of the three main branches of the Radiance Church, the Holy Mother Path—also known as the Redemption Path—was notoriously difficult to wield. To effectively heal with its power, a Beyonder had to understand human anatomy and physiology, requiring deep medical knowledge as a foundation.
And that knowledge was not easy to acquire. To save their Redemption Path Beyonders the burden of study, the Church implemented a divine protocol—allowing them to pray to the Holy Mother and channel Her guidance to shape their power. As a result, most White Ash and Black Earth-rank Redemption Path Beyonders in the Church knew little of medicine. Only Crimson-rank Redemption Path Beyonders were expected to study it seriously.
But the Savior’s Advent Sect had no access to this divine assistance. Their doctrine rejected the Trinity entirely, making prayer-based channeling impossible. Their Redemption Path Beyonders had no choice but to learn medicine the hard way. That, in turn, led to fewer Redemption Path Beyonders overall, and inconsistent treatment outcomes.
Yet, in that crucible, true researchers were born. Jemal was one of them. Her command of biomedical knowledge, her technical skill, her experimental rigor—all of it far surpassed those of her counterparts in the Church. And that’s precisely why she could understand Withering Plague in such astonishing depth.
Even so, despite her capabilities, Jemal still could not defeat Withering Plague—even after understanding it so thoroughly.
“Forget Jemal—I’m getting a headache just reading this BS61-1 stuff…”
Dorothy scanned Jemal’s mountain of research logs, trying to extract some inspiration. Originally, she had hoped to find a lead for a vaccine or specific cure. But now it seemed that was almost entirely out of the question.
“This BS61-1 evolves too quickly, and its priority is adaptability. Someone could get infected, get cured, and still have no antibodies left to resist it three days later. What kind of vaccine could work against that? What sort of miracle drug could fix it? Fighting this thing with medicine is basically impossible.”
“At first, I thought—maybe if the virus has something like a ‘soul,’ some central will, I could locate the source and destroy it. Cut off the head, and the body dies, right? But Jemal’s later notes said there is no such ‘host’—the virus has no central consciousness. The will is distributed across the entire swarm. Every part is the whole. Which means... there’s no king to kill—they’re all kings.”
Dorothy furrowed her brow. She had initially assumed that some bigwig from the Longevity Church was controlling the plague behind the scenes—that taking them down would end it. But now she knew better. BS61-1 was autonomous. Killing any one person wouldn’t stop it.
“Ugh... problems that can’t be solved by punching something really are the worst…”
Scratching her head, Dorothy muttered with clear frustration. No matter how she turned it over in her mind, she couldn’t think of any way to combat this super plague. She could, without a doubt, protect herself and those around her—but solving this plague on a societal level? That was another matter entirely.
“Phew… it looks like the Busalet situation really is beyond saving. I’d better just focus on finding Heopolis, get that advancement ritual done, and get out of here. No need to get entangled in all this.”
“As for Vania’s advancement ritual… I’ll figure something out elsewhere. For now, I’ll stay here a few days—treat some patients, promote a little faith, make a good impression. I can also submit a preliminary report on Withering Plague to Holy Mount. As long as they see that Vania isn’t just idling but actually doing meaningful work, things should be fine…”
Having made up her mind to temporarily set aside the plague, Dorothy directed her corpse marionette to leave Jemal’s lab and return to the underground archive. She looked over the mountain of books lining the shelves and the stacks of loose pages covering the central stone table.
“Well then… time to get back to business. It’s finally time to search for Heopolis in earnest. ‘Heopolis exists only in history,’ huh? Then let’s hope I can find some clue buried in history…”
With that, she issued silent commands to the other corpse marionettes scattered across Bastis. They all began converging on the archive. Reading this many historical records in a short time was no small task—it would take many hands.
…
In the daylight hours of Bastis, the stench of rot lingered in every corner. Listless citizens drifted through the motions of daily life.
Atop the towering city walls, a bloated, bald-headed man named Jawadin stood, watching the distance with a grave expression. He was the leader of the Longevity Church’s forces in Bastis, and his gaze was fixed on a single target: the Church delegation’s camp beside the oasis lake.
“Priest Jawadin… those followers of the blasphemous Radiance-God still haven’t left. Are they preparing to lay siege?” a nearby cultist asked in a strange tribal dialect, his tone filled with unease.
Jawadin responded calmly.
“If they wanted to attack, they would’ve already. We don’t have the strength to withstand their assault. The only reason they haven’t moved is because of those commoners—they’re using them as shields. If that nun still wants to act out her little ‘compassion’ farce, she won’t make the first move.”
Jawadin spoke in a low voice. After a moment, the cultist spoke again.
“Then… are we just going to wait them out? Until they give up and retreat?”
“No,” Jawadin replied.
“These heretics of the false god have already come to our land. There’s no way we’re letting them leave in one piece. High Chieftain Amuyaba is already moving. He’s prepared a few... tests for that little nun of theirs.”
“Tests?” the cultist frowned.
“What kind of tests? And why test an enemy?”
“I couldn’t say exactly,” Jawadin murmured.
“But the High Chieftain said… he’s very curious to see how long that nun’s so-called boundless compassion will last under these trials…”