The morning sun failed to wake Celia; instead, she was jolted upright by a noise outside that rivaled a magical beast siege.
“Stop pushing! If you keep shoving, my bucket is going to lose its shape!”
“How much longer is the person in front going to take? Even my donkey pees faster than this!”
“Ouch, who stepped on my foot? Are you looking for a fight?!”
A pillow was slammed against the wall, and then the white silkworm cocoon on the bed wriggled violently.
A girl emerged, her face clouded with morning grumpiness.
“What is all the noise about so early in the morning!”
Celia pushed open the window, and a wave of heat carrying dust immediately billowed into the room.
Through the bars, she saw the old well in the center of the village surrounded by people.
The line snaked from the well’s mouth all the way to the edge of her vision.
The villagers, who usually only gathered in such numbers for holidays or festivals, were now packed tightly together.
In the front row of the crowd, Celia immediately spotted the prominent figure of Uncle Barton.
His muscles gleamed as if coated in oil, and sweat rolled down his chest.
Barton slammed a hammer thicker than a person’s thigh onto the ground, causing the earth to tremble.
“This damn weather is hotter than the furnace I’ve been firing for thirty years,” Barton grumbled, wiping the oily sweat from his face.
“You said it.”
“Even my ancestral scissors, the ones that can cut through dragon skin, are too hot to touch. I don’t even dare pick them up,” the old tailor added.
Meanwhile, Grandpa Bagla stood by the simple filter, staring at the outlet while drenched in sweat.
At this rate, the person at the end of the line would probably turn into jerky under the sun before they ever got a drink.
“…”
Celia watched the scene for a few seconds before closing the window and drawing the curtains, shutting the miserable world away.
……
The stifling heat inside the church hall was not much better than outside.
The Alchemical Freezer, which had cost a fortune, had stopped working. When Celia touched it, the casing felt warm.
In this sweltering weather, the freezer was nothing more than a piece of scrap metal without water to drive it.
Celia slumped into a chair, feeling like a salted fish tossed onto the shore, slowly being dried out by the sun.
Her throat felt like it was smoking, and even swallowing saliva felt like a form of torture.
“Elent, I want some water.”
Celia waited for a few seconds, but the familiar tall figure did not appear.
‘Eh, did he go out?’
It was rare for the Hero to be away from the church.
Celia lay on her reclining chair for a long while before hurried footsteps finally echoed from the backyard. Elent ran in, holding a cup in his hand.
“Priestess, here is your water.”
He placed the cup on the table.
Celia looked down at the cup. It was only half-full. The surface was still, with no bubbles, no ice, and she could even see a tiny bit of fine sand settled at the bottom.
“Where is my Happy Water?”
The expression on Elent’s face froze. He looked like a large golden retriever that had done something wrong.
“I couldn’t make any.”
Elent pointed at the half-cup of pathetic-looking water.
“The filter’s efficiency is too low. Grandpa Bagla said that to ensure every household gets some water, they’ve started limited rationing. I only managed to get this half-cup after waiting in line for a long time.”
To think that a Hero Candidate, the future Savior, had to squeeze in with a crowd of elderly villagers at the well just to fight for half a cup of water.
Either she had gone mad, or this village had.
Celia picked up the cup and took a small sip, nearly spitting it out immediately.
This water tasted terrible. Could this even be called water? It was an insult to the very concept.
“Where is Iris?”
“In the backyard,” Elent said, pointing behind him. “The cotton cloth keeps getting clogged too quickly, so she’s cleaning it.”
Celia walked toward the backyard. With every step, the nameless fire in her heart rose higher.
When she reached the backyard, the sight was even more suffocating.
Several large wooden basins were piled in the corner, filled with pitch-black, shimmering wastewater.
Iris was crouching on the ground, her hands submerged in the black water as she scrubbed the cotton cloths.
“Hiss… it hurts…”
The Demon King withdrew her red, swollen fingers from the water to rest for a moment before plunging them back in.
Even though it was just a small amount of diluted wastewater, her fingers felt like they were being burned by fire.
‘Is this the potent poison of the Source of Plague?!’
On the open ground next to Iris, the batch of Slimes Elent had recently caught to act as cleaners were slumped in various distorted positions.
Their crystal-clear bodies had turned a murky purple-gray, and their skin was shriveled like burnt plastic, bulging with disgusting pustules.
Two slimes had even carbonized, turning into hard black lumps that would crumble if poked with a stick.
“Iris, what are you doing?”
Celia’s sudden greeting made Iris flinch. The cotton cloth slipped from her hands and splashed back into the water, sending a few droplets of black poisonous juice flying.
“Lady Witch, they seem to be poisoned!”
“Poisoned?”
Celia leaned over the black water, and a pungent stench of sulfur and rot rushed into her mind.
Just by being near it, she could feel a stinging sensation on her skin.
If this level of toxin were poured into a river, it would corrode the stones on the riverbed, let alone the fish.
What a powerful virus!
“You’ve worked hard, Iris.”
As the sun rose higher, the air became increasingly stifling.
Celia felt as if she were about to be soaked through; her clothes were sticky and clung to her back.
The mosquito bites from one or two days ago, which had just started to fade, began to itch again.
No ice.
No Happy Water.
She even had to wait in line just to get a drink.
And now, she had to deal with a pile of biochemical weapons that could explode at any moment.
‘Dammit, how did my retirement life turn into this? It really is because of this cursed virus.’
This was no longer an ordinary virus; it required a heavy-handed response!
Celia looked up toward the distance.
The canopy of the Black Forest was no longer lush and green; it was covered in a layer of grayish-white death.
Waves of heat were pouring steadily from the forest, turning the entire village into a giant steamer.
“Iris, don’t you think this poison is getting more concentrated?”
Iris tucked her head in, not daring to look into Celia’s emerald eyes.
“Ye… yes. The aura of that source… it feels like it’s already at the edge of the forest.”
“Very well.”
Celia nodded and then walked over to the striking Alchemical Freezer.
“My old friend, you’ll be able to start working again very soon.”
Celia was done being patient. Since the source of the water pollution had severely lowered her quality of life, it shouldn’t blame her for flipping the table.
“Elent, go get my Holy Codex.”
“Also, tell Grandpa Bagla and the others they don’t need to wait in line anymore.”
“Tonight, I’m treating the whole village to a big drink.”
“Understood, Priestess,” Elent agreed immediately, but then he scratched his head and asked, “What are you going to do, Priestess?”
Celia offered a dangerously kind smile.
“I’m going to the Black Forest, of course, to find the culprit behind all of this.”
duh duh duh