The Sacred Affairs Officer had not yet spoken when a Recorder on the other side of the long table suddenly grabbed its corner for support. The documents in his hands fell to the floor one after another.
Someone nearby moved to help him, but the Recorder collapsed before they could reach him.
At the sight of that, the already oppressive atmosphere in the Radiant Hall dissolved into chaos.
"A Cleric! What's wrong with him?!"
Two Clerics stationed at the palace hurried over and knelt to examine the Recorder.
One pulled up his sleeve and stared. "High fever, cold hands and feet, and fine gray-red lines under the skin on his inner arm. This is—"
He did not finish, but after everything that had happened that night, the ministers understood. They backed away at once.
"When did he come in?"
"Half an hour ago."
"Who did he touch?"
They looked at one another and asked, but no one had an answer.
The palace Cleric rose and called out, "Everyone stays in the Radiant Hall. No one is allowed to leave."
The king jerked his head up. "What do you mean?!"
"Your Majesty, we still don't know how it spreads. We cannot guarantee your safety if you go outside."
The Cleric had barely finished speaking when a senior treasury official clutched his forehead and sat down.
Sweat covered his face. He kept saying someone outside the hall was calling his name, though the Radiant Hall was silent.
Several Clerics immediately gathered around him. His symptoms were the same.
The king watched, then instinctively took a step back.
But when he glanced down, he noticed a faint mark just below his right wrist.
Gray tinged with red, no more than a short line—
The king stared at it, frozen. Then he yanked up