Lord of Rot

The dwarf craftsman, Fla, had played a crucial role in the early stages of Leech’s research and development. Leech was very fond of this man, who could actually keep up with his train of thought. When he rushed to Fla’s home, a tall, pregnant maid greeted him.

"Good day, my lord!"

"How is Fla?"

"He... he might not make it," she said, her expression full of sorrow. It was unclear if she was grieving for her unborn child who would now be fatherless, or for the loss of the family’s pillar, which made her deeply pessimistic about the future.

Leech turned to the men with him and said, "Go get the Alchemist."

The situation in Porcupine Territory was much better now than when Leech had first arrived. Back then, Porcupine Territory had no Alchemist. When he himself was wounded and near death, he had no choice but to send for a scholar’s apprentice from Iron Stone City. As for commoners who fell ill, they could do little more than wait for death.

But under Leech’s guidance, Porcupine Territory was developing into a more self-sufficient village.

This development, however, was entirely dependent on the money he personally earned, making it financially unsustainable.

Leech entered the bedroom.

In the bed, the dwarf craftsman saw Leech arrive and struggled to sit up, but Leech stopped him. "Stay down, my friend."

"My deepest apologies, my lord." Fla’s voice was incredibly weak. He wore a pained smile, his jaw clenched tight as if he were in tremendous pain.

A white cloth was wrapped around his head, giving off a medicinal smell.

"How did he get sick?" Leech asked, turning to the tall, pregnant maid beside him.

"He accidentally scratched the top of his head with a nail while working. It was a cut as long as my finger. Oh, by the Four Gods, my poor Fla. He looks like he’s in so much pain." 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝘦𝓌𝑒𝑏𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝘭.𝒸𝘰𝑚

As she spoke of her husband, the tall maid’s eyes reddened. "He can’t even open his mouth to eat. His jaw is clenched shut. I tried to feed him porridge made from torn bread and wheat, but he couldn’t open his mouth at all. Then I tried buying some milk. Thankfully, he can still swallow milk, but he’s getting weaker with each passing day."

Anyone could see it. Fla was at death’s door.

After hearing the tall maid’s account, Leech had a good idea of what was wrong.

’Tetanus.’

’In this world, I have no idea how to treat tetanus,’ Leech thought. ’Maybe the Alchemist has a way, or a scholar. Or perhaps Magic.’

The Alchemist, summoned by the lord’s command, arrived swiftly, a wooden box on his back.

"Is there any way to treat him?" Leech valued the craftsman Fla highly, and personal affection was a major factor in that.

The Alchemist shook his head gently. "I’m sorry, my lord. This disease causes the heart to gradually weaken. I have examined him before, but Mister Fla’s condition is more severe than others I have seen. Of course, we could try a more extreme and risky method... perhaps we could try bloodletting."

In this world of Magic, faith, and Giant Dragons, the development of science was exceptionally slow.

Commoners learned to fend for themselves, while nobles were accustomed to solving problems by reciting a Spell. And if a Spell didn’t work, they could always pray to a Divine Spirit.

When praying to a Divine Spirit actually worked, people had little incentive to pursue their own research. They became convinced that everything they received was a gift, a blessing from the Divine Spirit.

’If I go to all the trouble of studying science, only for the result to be a blessing from a Divine Spirit, then why not just pray to the Divine Spirit from the start and wait for that blessing?’

And so, the ignorant practice of bloodletting ran rampant across the continent.

Although the Lu Leiyi Continent had no concept of doctors in the formal sense, Alchemists and some scholars did take on certain medical duties.

Scholars were perhaps a bit better, as they understood Alchemy and their study of the human body was more detailed.

Ordinary Alchemists were different. They firmly believed that blood was the source of life in the human body. Illness, therefore, meant there was a problem with one’s blood. As a result, they believed any ailment—including headaches, colds, fevers, and even old age—could be treated with bloodletting.

Few people survived bloodletting treatment, while countless others died from it.

A book Leech had read even mentioned a story of an Alchemist treating a pregnant woman with bloodletting. He placed leeches on her navel and let them burrow in. The result was as one might expect.

"No one in Porcupine Ridge will be treated with bloodletting," Leech said, looking at the Alchemist with an emphatic tone.

’As a lord, I have to ensure my people don’t die from such idiotic treatments.’

The Alchemist didn’t argue, as he himself was not an expert in bloodletting and didn’t dare attempt it casually.

"My lord," Fla seemed to have something to say. "My lord, I know my life is coming to an end. Though I regret that I can never return to the Golden Wheat Field, please believe me when I say that Porcupine Ridge has become my second home. There are things here I built with my own hands. I’ve watched Porcupine Territory get better and better, and I’ve grown to love this place."

"Easy now, my friend." Leech offered no words of comfort.

Because right now, he truly had no treatment to offer.

Looking at the craftsman’s strained expression, Leech asked the Alchemist, "Is there anything that can make him more comfortable? In his final moments."

"Yes, my lord. I can prepare a potion for him that will let him temporarily forget some of the pain."

Having received his orders, the Alchemist immediately opened his small medicine box and began his preparations. Inside the box was a small, thumb-sized bottle.

It was a very thin, translucent stone bottle that resembled a glass gemstone, stoppered with a wooden cork.

He pulled the cork, poured some powder onto a wooden tray, then used a small rod to stir it with a bit of white liquid from a small vial, forming it all into a Little Pill. ’That white liquid is probably addictive,’ Leech guessed.

Leech took the medicine and personally helped Fla swallow it. The effects were remarkable. After just a short while, the dwarf lying in bed began to regain focus in his eyes, and he seemed more alert.

"In the last moments of my life, I hope you can do me a favor, my lord."

"Speak, my friend."

"I would like to ask you to preside over a wedding. Let my wife, Cao Ya, marry my apprentice, Pointy Nose. We all know you are a benevolent lord. Please rest assured, both Pointy Nose and Cao Ya have already discussed this. They do not object to the marriage."

Leech was silent for a moment, then nodded. "Alright. I will grant your request."

This was a form of succession Leech was already aware of: when a master craftsman was near death, he would arrange for his wife to marry his apprentice.

It was better than leaving a widow and child to fend for themselves, alone and without support.

The apprentice would inherit everything from his master, and in turn, it became his duty to care for the widow and her child.

Some old craftsmen, even if they had no children but only a beautiful wife, would choose to entrust their wife to their apprentice.

The apprentice represented the continuation of the master’s craft. Without a man to run the shop, it would vanish in the blink of an eye.

Leech didn’t disturb them any longer, leaving the remaining time to Fla, his wife, and his apprentice.