Arknightcraft Modpack
Chapter 480: The Fuse
By the time Talulah reached the source of the commotion, what she saw was a man dressed like a local villager, surrounded by a group of Infected.
The way the villager looked at them was filled with an indescribable mix of hatred and revulsion.
"I already said it—I don't care what the village chief decided! But you damned Infected are absolutely not allowed anywhere near my house or my children!" the man shouted. "You plague-spreading devils! You took my wife away, and now you want to take my children too?!"
He gripped what looked like a hastily grabbed hoe, glaring warily at the Infected encircling him. With those words, he openly exposed their identities.
"I told the chief from the start—people like you, with those suspicious stones growing out of your bodies, should never have been let in! Who knows when you'll infect someone else! Now get away from my house—right now!"
He brandished the hoe threateningly, though in truth, none of the Infected showed any intention of forcing their way closer. Most of them were simply standing by, watching.
Still, the disturbance was enough to draw out the figures who truly mattered.
As an elderly man leaning on a cane and Brule himself arrived, the chaos gradually settled down.
"Ross, what are you doing?" the old man asked, clearly surprised. "These are guests. You're usually such a friendly person, what's gotten into you?"
The village chief could hardly believe his eyes. In his memory, this honest, middle-aged man was someone who always wore a simple, good-natured smile. He had never imagined him acting like this.
A man so meek that even the village children dared to bully him—how had he suddenly changed so completely?
At first, the chief instinctively assumed there must be some misunderstanding. But when he met Ross's eyes, he knew at once that things were far more complicated than that.
"Chief!" Ross cried out, as if he had finally found someone to appeal to. "Do you even know who you've let into the village?! These people are Infected! You remember how my wife died, don't you?! It was because she came into contact with these stone-covered Infected that she caught that disease!"
Ross's voice trembled as he explained. The villagers might not know much about Infected, but that didn't mean he was ignorant of their danger.
In his eyes, these Infected had surely used sweet words to deceive the kind-hearted villagers, exploiting their goodwill to achieve some unspeakable goal.
Just like that time years ago—when his wife had helped a wandering Infected. They had taken care of him, shown him kindness… and in return, he had stolen all the food from their home and even injured and infected his wife, leading to her eventual death.
"Infected…?" The village chief frowned and turned to Brule. "Mr. Brule, is what Ross says true? You only told me that you were refugees fleeing hardship. You never mentioned that you were Infected."
Though elderly, the chief was far from incapable of judging the situation. On the snowfields, refugees were not uncommon. Their village had helped such groups before. But Infected were another matter entirely.
Even in a remote mountain village like theirs, word had spread that the Ursus authorities held a deeply hostile attitude toward the Infected. If Brule's group truly consisted of so many Infected, the chief couldn't be sure what kind of danger that might bring.
After all, Ross—this simple countryman standing before them—had fallen into such tragedy precisely because he once helped a wandering Infected.
"We… are indeed Infected," Brule admitted, frowning slightly. "But please rest assured, Village Chief. We're only here to recover for a short while. We'll leave soon."
At this point, there was no room left for lies. The signs of Oripathy were far too easy to recognize, and Brule had no way to hide them. All he could do was let out a quiet sigh and try to negotiate a little more time from the chief.
"Well…"
The old man's face filled with hesitation.
He had heard of Oripathy and knew that the Infected carried a certain degree of contagion. Still, he had just agreed to let these people stay and recover. To go back on his word now felt… wrong.
Just then, a young, childish voice rang out from behind the man earlier.
"The officer uncle said that if you meet Infected, you should report them! Infected are all selfish bad people! Mama was killed by them! Village Chief Grandpa, you mustn't believe their lies!"
A small boy ran out from the house, hurried over, and clung to the old man's leg, pleading.
"Logan! Who taught you to say such things?" the chief snapped, his tone turning stern. "Go back inside with your father. This is a matter for adults, children have no place speaking here!"
The moment the boy spoke, the atmosphere froze.
Everyone knew that children spoke without thinking—but the moment the Ursus military was mentioned, it was no longer something that could be brushed off so lightly.
Brule's already grim expression darkened further. They still hadn't shaken off the Infected patrol squads, and they had lost the protection of the guerrilla forces. With only this group of Infected, there was no way they could stand against the regular Ursus army.
"Please don't trouble yourself anymore, Village Chief," Brule said after an awkward cough. "We'll leave at once. We won't cause you any further inconvenience."
Under the circumstances, leaving immediately was the only way to prevent things from spiraling out of control.
If the conflict between the Infected and the villagers escalated any further, someone would inevitably report it to the authorities.
Brule had never truly trusted these villagers in the first place. After this incident, he had even less reason to stay.
This time, the previously warm and approachable old man didn't try to stop them. He merely nodded apologetically, and fell silent.
After all, this concerned the entire village. Unlike refugees in the past—who could sometimes even be taken in as villagers—the Infected were, by their very nature, people who found it difficult to coexist peacefully with ordinary folk.
The fragile harmony that had just formed lasted less than ten minutes. The Infected didn't even have time to light a fire to warm themselves before Brule's order to withdraw was issued.
As word of what had happened spread through loose tongues, the looks exchanged between villagers and Infected gradually lost their earlier friendliness.
Doubt. Suspicion. Resentment.
All kinds of ugly emotions brewed on both sides. Yet under Brule's strict orders, none of it erupted. As the Infected departed, those emotions slowly dissipated into the cold air.
Talulah, who had witnessed everything from start to finish, felt a complicated knot of emotions in her chest.
She understood both sides. She couldn't even bring herself to say that either was truly in the wrong. Everyone had their own reasons—and none of them had really crossed a line.
But then… was it truly impossible for the Infected to live openly and peacefully alongside ordinary people?
Talulah didn't know the answer.
<+>
Note: Character Illustration is in this Google Drive:
https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1iuyfwNVFHzIi9H4rWNT_lAm7jTSiah_M
<+>
If you want to see more chapter of this story and don't mind spending $5 monthly to see till the latest chapter, please go to my Patreon[1].
Latest Chapter in Patreon: Chapter 567: The Original Is Still Better[2]
Link to the latest chapter: https://www.patreon.com/posts/156361807?collection=55713[3]
https://www.patreon.com/collection/55713?view=condensed[4]
[1] https://www.patreon.com/collection/55713?view=condensed
[2] https://www.patreon.com/posts/156361807?collection=55713
[3] https://www.patreon.com/posts/156361807?collection=55713
[4] https://www.patreon.com/collection/55713?view=condensed