Our Family Has Fallen

Pushing the door open, Lance was met with an indescribable scene.

In several iron cages meant to hold experimental subjects, a fierce ”struggle” was unfolding. The captured Heretics were divided into three pairs of men and women, engrossed in this violent activity.

There was no beauty to speak of; it was more akin to beasts, filled with madness and savagery, while a strange odor permeated the air.

Outside the iron cages, Paracelsus was busy at an experimental table concocting some sort of potion, unfazed by her surroundings. This explained why she was a researcher and Lance was merely an ordinary heir.

The noise of Lance pushing open the door did catch Paracelsus’s attention, but after a glance, she immersed herself again in her research.

”What’s going on here? How did you create such a commotion?” Lance walked over and took a peek.

”Only by simulating the most realistic scenarios can we know the true effects,” Paracelsus said, pausing her recording and looking at Lance. ”Miss Dai’er and I have figured it out—the old version of the potion had aphrodisiac effects. However, per your request, that has been removed from the new version, which now only retains its basic effects.”

”Hmm~” Upon hearing this, Lance couldn’t help but turn to look at those in the cages. Clearly, they were being pushed to their limits, likely to death. Pitiful fellows, they’d be better off dead than in her hands.

”Based on your theory of engorgement, I fear it might put too much strain on the heart, and the circulatory system will also be under considerable stress. However, we’ll need a dissection to understand the details. But studying the circulatory system is too difficult; I’m struggling to handle all those blood vessels by myself.”

Lance could hear she was hinting at needing an assistant. The current phase of research did indeed require support, and considering she worked overtime like this every day, he felt it wasn’t right to refuse.

”I should have some free time soon; I’ll help then. But what’s the status of the Ascension Potion? The Romani are preparing to come.”

Seeing Lance agree, Grendel shifted the conversation back to the current research, casually picking up a document and handing it over.

”The preliminary situation has been established; we are currently testing the damage to the human body. The data you’re holding is from the tests. If we use a half-hour duration as the standard, one cauldron of potion concentrate can produce two to three hundred doses.”

Lance took the neatly arranged table of test data. After a brief look, he offered his suggestions.

”Firstly, we must understand that this is just a supportive measure. A ten-minute duration would be quite good for those with weakened functions. But we could design enhanced versions—fifteen minutes, twenty minutes. Add some flair, and the price could increase severalfold.”

”What about over thirty minutes?”

”Forget that. It’s too risky. People with declining functions who still have such needs, and can afford it, are generally old; they can’t withstand the potion’s potency.”

”How long for you? Want to give it a try?”

”???” Lance suddenly looked up at Paracelsus. Something’s not right with you!

”The test subjects can’t describe the sensations in detail; I need to understand a more genuine reaction,” Paracelsus explained quite naturally.

”That’s easy. As long as you confirm the potion’s dosage isn’t harmful, I’ll find a few refugees to test it on. We just need to pay them.”

Lance’s morality was always quite flexible. As long as they hadn’t joined Hamlet, they weren’t Hamlet’s people.

「On the outskirts of Hamlet, Leprosy Camp.」

In a separate tent filled with numerous medical instruments, Baldwin was the main focus. Lance, Grendel, and Paracelsus surrounded him.

To facilitate treatment, Baldwin had already changed out of his robe and bandages into a simple burlap suit, characteristic of Hamlet’s style.

His exposed skin was almost entirely ravaged, horrifically devastated by the virus. His waxen, melting skin was covered in swollen pustules. Even more terrifying was his face; it was in an indescribable state. A single glance could send shivers from one’s tailbone to the crown of their head.

No wonder they all kept themselves completely covered. Otherwise, given their appearance, others would likely react even more strongly.

Truth be told, Lance was inherently repulsed. Even knowing he couldn’t be infected, he had no desire to get close. Keeping away from threats is human instinct.

It wasn’t just him; even Grendel and Paracelsus had been overwhelmed when they first saw the face beneath the mask. However, they had now grown somewhat accustomed and, though still uncomfortable, didn’t react too strongly.

Lance also stood there; in fact, he was the one to perform most of the main procedures.

”Begin recording. Third attempt...”

As he spoke, Paracelsus began to record, while Grendel handed a vial of potion to Lance.

Baldwin showed no fear. His trembling hand brought the potion to his lips, and he drank it down in one gulp before lying on the bed.

Grendel’s methods for treating leprosy were certainly unconventional; the potion Baldwin had just taken was, in fact, poison.

That’s right! This stuff was poison. Swallowing it felt like being burned from the inside out, as the toxicity quickly spread from his internal organs throughout his entire body.

One could only say that Baldwin’s pain tolerance was truly immense. Or perhaps the leprosy virus had tormented his body for so long that many of his nerves had already died. The potion, which Grendel had described as capable of causing excruciating pain, elicited surprisingly little reaction from him.