Garrett Nordmark continued his journey. Yes, he, Cirilla, Bernard, Mr. Baronsimo, and Appa ford a perfect five-mber group for retrieving the scriptures, no doubt about it.
As for the native youth Radon, it seed necessary to have a local guide on the journey; otherwise, how could they avoid getting lost over such a long distance?
Should they rely on the Great Sage's sorsaulting to high altitudes for direction correction every ti?
Of course, Garrett didn't need a guide. The surrounding flowers and plants, trees, and shrubs guided him better than any guide.
But Radon insisted on following them, finding campsites, gathering firewood, searching for edible things, and negotiating with the tribes along the way to prove their identity...
He did everything just to learn the fishbone extraction spell, which wasn't easy. Garrett felt that using a Phantom Steed spell to carry him every day wasn't too much of a loss.
After the Reindeer Tribe ca the Black Fox Tribe, and after that, the Beaver Tribe. Garrett's oak staff now had a black fox tail and a pair of beaver teeth added to it. However, his mood was increasingly heavy, like the low-hanging clouds before rain.
—Since departing from the New World, the 5000 doses of smallpox vaccine they carried had almost used up 1000 doses along the way.
And as they traveled, the sight of the plague only worsened. In the Redstone Tribe, the severely ill and dying accounted for about 5%; in the Reindeer Tribe, it rose to nearly 10%; and in the Black Fox and Beaver Tribes, it approached 15%.
Garrett guessed that the smallpox had spread from the western and southern parts of the New World. Thus, the further west they went, the more infected people they encountered; the further south, the more the disease spread.
This was still an endless plain, where nothing could stop the movent of people, making it very easy to travel from one tribe to another.
Previously, when they first landed in the east, there were hardly any natives with smallpox, likely because the mountains blocked the flow of people.
However, here on the plains... Garrett wondered if rivers could stop people from moving. He looked up and saw another glistening river ahead. Should they camp by the river tonight or cross it and move further?
The Phantom Steeds landed silently, arriving at the riverbank. Before they could settle, a shout ca from across the river:
"Who goes there? — This is Red Hawk Tribe territory! No trespassing!"
Here we go again. Garrett rolled his eyes silently. Beside him, the native youth Radon raised his voice and shouted back:
"Just passing through! We are healers!"
"Passing through from where?"
"From the Beaver Tribe!" Radon took the oak staff from Garrett and raised it high, displaying the collection of souvenirs on it:
"We have traveled from the eastern coast, healing tribes along the way. These are gifts from them, proving we are friends! We an no harm, and we are willing to heal the Red Hawk Tribe too if needed!"
"No trespassing!"
The shout grew louder from the other side. Not only did they shout, but they also raised longbows, drawing arrows and aiming towards this side of the river:
"Our tribe is enemies with the Beaver Tribe! If you are their friends, you are not allowed to cross the boundary! Otherwise, we will fight you too!"
Well... alright then. Garrett shrugged, deciding not to confront them directly and cause trouble. Since they were enemies and didn't allow passage, it should help stop the spread of smallpox, right?
They set up a Mage's Hut on the riverbank and had a good rest for the night. Early the next morning, they ran downstream for a long stretch. When there were no patrols around, they took off, flying across the river.
You can't possibly set up a guard line everywhere!
Four Phantom Steeds and a Silver Moon Deer galloped wildly. When the sun was overhead, an eagle's cry echoed, and a giant eagle with a wingspan over two ters swooped down.
No, as the eagle approached, Garrett realized it wasn't an eagle but a much larger red hawk!
Was it a magical beast raised by the Red Hawk Tribe?
Or a totem beast?
Before Garrett could figure it out, he instinctively cast a series of protective spells on everyone. The red hawk did not attack but swooped, glided, and rose, circling above them.
On the third circle, the sound of cattle lowing filled the air, and a massive wild ox erged from the woods, blocking their path.
A young warrior rode the wild ox. In the cold weather, he wore only a deer-hide loincloth and a large string of beads that couldn't block the wind and only increased the chill. He grasped the ox's mane with his left hand and raised a glittering obsidian axe with his right.
"We an no harm! We are just passing through!"
Before the warrior could speak, Garrett raised his oak staff. A faint white light, like fireflies, danced around the staff's tip:
"I am a healer! These are my companions! We co from the eastern coast, heading to the westernmost part of the continent. We won't interfere with your tribe's affairs! — Of course, if you need healing, we are willing to help!"
"The Red Hawk God sees your actions." After a mont of silence, the young warrior looked up at the circling red hawk in the sky, then bowed from the ox's back:
"The nearby tribes are gathering to discuss resisting the Plague God. We've heard of a healer from afar who claims to have a thod to resist the plague—"
Were they referring to the Remove Disease spell or the smallpox vaccine? Garrett instinctively clutched his space bag. Although his best items were no longer in it, the vine bird given by Elder Tapros could hold much more than his space bag...
"The grand shamans of the tribes have decided to invite you to join us and find a solution together. If what you say is true, the Red Hawk Tribe, the Wild Ox Tribe, and the Black Panther Tribe will not hesitate to reward you..."
"Wait, how many people are there in your tribes combined?"
"Our tribes are the most powerful along the river!" The young warrior proudly lifted his head:
"The Red Hawk Tribe's people are as nurous as the birds in the woods, the Wild Ox Tribe's warriors are as many as the wild oxen on the plains! The Black Panther Tribe's shamans are more than the black panthers on the mountains!"
No way... that's too many people, my smallpox vaccines aren't enough!
4000 doses, what can 4000 doses do? Nevis City alone used up around a million doses of smallpox vaccine, and promoting it to other places, to the army, and to the New World settlers consud countless more.
In Nevis, it took the persistent work of the council, nobles and commoners, mages, Nature God priests, and cattle farm workers to produce such a vast number of vaccines to et everyone's needs.
In the New World, there were only the five of them on the quest, plus a guide. Relying on handcrafting, when would they ever produce enough?
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