Alonsus and the others hurried to the source of the plague.
A monster that was clearly dead, yet could still move, though it had lost all reason.
A Stratholme resident whose spirit had utterly withered, whose body burned with fever, lying on the ground and lingering on the verge of death.
His condition appeared to be nearing the end of his life, yet Alonsus sensed something even more terrifying within him.
"This looks like some kind of curse." Lor'themar had also noticed something unusual about the plague victim. He voiced his opinion with some uncertainty.
"Was it the Orcs?" The moment Alonsus heard the word curse, he thought of the invading Orcs.
They had mages of their own! They had even mastered certain terrifying powers.
"It cannot be confirmed. But this power is certainly evil." Lor'themar looked at the life that had turned undead-like after death and spoke with certainty.
"Let me try, Master." Uther spoke before Alonsus could. Rich Holy Light enveloped him, and under Alonsus's delighted gaze, he began treating the dying Stratholme resident before them.
The dense Holy Light covered the man's body, driving the Darkness Power from within him bit by bit. A quarter of an hour later, when the Holy Light in Uther's hands faded, the plague victim had returned to normal. Even his breathing had become steady and strong.
"Is it resolved?" Lor'themar looked at the infected man. That power should have been extremely troublesome and difficult to deal with, according to what he knew. Yet the resident Uther had just snatched back from death left him somewhat bewildered.
"No. That power is difficult to expel. Once my Holy Light dissipates inside him, the symptoms will return." Uther shook his head grimly. Though his treatment looked highly effective, he knew he had not eradicated