Raymond thought to himself.
'... Surely I don't think I'll be able to become stronger than a Sword Expert later on?'
But Raymond shook his head.
'Anyway, it doesn't matter so let's go see the patients.'
And so he went to the clinic and was working on a patient.
Suddenly, a dark cloud engulfed the Houstonian army.
A plague outbreak!
"It's bad, Healer! There's a plague!"
Raymond looked startled.
'It's coming.'
Epidemics were a grim reality in military settings.
The close proximity and harsh living conditions made it conducive for diseases to spread rapidly.
At times, more soldiers succumbed to the plague than to the perils of battle itself.
'We need to catch it early, so we can minimize the number of patients!'
Raymond turned to the barracks where Duke Leif and other military leaders were gathered.
"Are you sure it's an epidemic?"
"Yes, all seven patients have the same pattern of spots on their skin."
Viscount Rand, the leader of the healers, said with conviction in his voice.
"If we don't do something about it now, we'll have more patients than we can handle."
"Do something, and what?"
"We need to isolate and exterminate."
Isolate and exterminate!
Herd the patients to a remote location and burn them.
The most common and surefire way to stop an epidemic in this day and age.
The faces of the military leaders grew serious.
"To extinguish our own soldiers..."
These soldiers were not ordinary citizens.
They were the elite standing regulars, the backbone of the army. Eradicating their own ranks would undoubtedly inflict a severe blow to morale.
"We don't have a chance unless we do it now, at the beginning of the outbreak. If the plague spreads further, we won't be able to do anything about it. At worst, it could have a negative impact on the war situation."
Negative impact on the war situation.
He meant defeat.
He wasn't wrong.
There had been countless wars throughout history where victories or defeats hinged upon the management of rampant plagues.
"What is your recommendation, Your Excellency?"
"..."
Duke Leif maintained a thoughtful silence, well aware of the weighty decision that lay before them.
The fate of the war hung in the balance.
Then a voice echoed through the hall.
"May I have a look at the patients?"
It was Raymond!
He raised his hand in a gesture of recognition.
The senior healers, including Viscount Rand, bared their teeth in displeasure.
"Just when we're discussing matters of utmost importance, this quack dares to interrupt..."
Ah, indeed. So it was my 'quack trick' that resolved both the plague in the capital and the one in the south. I can't help but wonder what you esteemed healers were occupied with during that time?"
His pointed words struck a chord, leaving the healers momentarily speechless.
Even then, they had insisted on eradication.
"You can see them."
Duke Leif gave his permission, and Raymond went to see the patients.
For the record, the patients were kept outside the barracks for fear of contagion.
Raymond examined the patients.
'They have a bad rash on their skin, but they don't have a fever or anything?'
Raymond noticed that the patients weren't as bad as he thought.
They were fine, just with a bad rash.
But there was something else he noticed.
'They all exhibit rashes on their foreheads, faces, wrists, necks, and other exposed areas, characterized by erythematous papules and vesicles'
At that point, Raymond had a realization.
'Wait a minute. Could this be a heat rash?'
It wasn't a typical plague.
'It's more like an...'
With his thoughts gathering, Raymond made his way back to the barracks where the leaders had convened.
The atmosphere was tense as they awaited his findings.
As he entered, a deep voice cut through the silence.
"Have you found out anything?"
It was Duke Leif!
Was it because of his bad blood with Seitil?
Raymond's heart pounded every time he saw Duke Leif.
Fortunately, his Heart of Steel kicked in and he was able to overcome the tension.
"I think we should think of something other than the plague."
"...!"
"I mean... It looks more like a common skin disease."
The men in the barracks exchanged looks of disbelief.
"A skin disease?"
"Is that what you call words?"
The healers in particular scoffed openly.
It was the kind of look you'd expect from a lowly cultist quack.
Undeterred by their disdain, Raymond stood firm in his conviction.
"It's definitely not the plague, it's a skin disease."
Then Duke Leif asked sharply.
"Are you willing to shoulder the responsibility of your words?"
"...!"
"Plagues cost soldiers their lives. It could mean the difference between winning and losing a war. Can you be responsible for your words?"
Raymond swallowed hard.
He'd felt it last time, but the Swordmaster's intimidating presence was no joke.
He struggled to speak, but he was sure of the answer.
Raymond nodded.
"Yes, this is not a plague."
Then he gave him the exact diagnosis.
"It's called contact dermatitis. So... hypersensitivity skin disease."
***
Contact dermatitis, a condition triggered by exposure to a hypersensitive substance causing a rash on the skin.
The symptoms exhibited by the soldiers aligned precisely with those of contact dermatitis.
Of course, the healers were not convinced.
"This is preposterous! How can a mere skin disease manifest in such a widespread manner?"
"It must be a plague!"
Raymond understood their reactions.
The concept of contact dermatitis was unfamiliar to them, and they lacked the necessary medical knowledge to grasp its implications.
'I could explain the medical knowledge of contact dermatitis to them, but they wouldn't buy it.'
The best thing to do is to prove it.
'Contact dermatitis is a skin disease caused by exposure to a toxic substance. There must be a culprit behind this outbreak. We need to find it.'
And there it was, a quest.
[Solve the Plague in the Barracks!]
(Medicine Quest)
[Rank: Two Scalpels
Difficulty: Medium
Quest Description: There is an unexplained plague in the barracks. Use your medical skills to resolve the situation!
Clear Conditions: Identify and resolve the cause of the plague
Quest Reward: Bonus Level Up, 30 Skill Points
Perk: Unexpected extra merit (?)]
"Just give me a little time. I will prove that this disease is not a plague, cure the patients, and discover the cause."
At those confident words, the military leaders looked at each other; they all knew of Raymond's past accomplishments.
Then Duke Leif warned.
"Baron Penin, what if we follow your advice and things go awry? If they do, I will hold you accountable."
Raymond paused.
Responsibility!
That was heavy talk.
He was uncertain of the potential consequences if the plague theory turned out to be correct, but he nodded resolutely.
"Okay, I'll proceed as you suggest."
'It's one hundred percent contact dermatitis, so there's no need to worry.
Raymond decided to trust the 'medical knowledge'.
He decided to take advantage of being in this situation and get what he needed.
"In return, if I succeed, I request a reward of my choosing."
"What do you want?"
"Command."
"...!"
Raymond was more specific.
"I want to be granted the authority to command thirty specialized personnel and twenty regular soldiers."
Duke Leif's eyes narrowed.
"Specialized personnel?"
"I'd like to take some of the lower-ranking healers and create a 'healing army' that specializes in healing."
Right now, the Penin Healing Center was operating with only the existing staff, and they had their hands full.
More help was needed.
'That means we need medics. We'll recruit junior D-ranked healers, train them with attributes, and keep them around. Twenty regular soldiers to clean, wash bedding, organize supplies, and do other menial tasks.'
Gaining command meant more than just authority; it meant having control over the healers themselves.
Raymond realized the significance of this position.
It was akin to the rank of a captain in the Magic Corps and carried the weight of a high-ranking officer.
'Then no one will be able to ignore me so easily.'
What was he thinking?
Duke Leif stared at Raymond for a moment.
Raymond's heart skipped a beat under his piercing gaze.
"I'll give you two days."
Duke Leif said in a cold voice.
"You have two days to settle this."
***
Duke Leif then returned to the command barracks.
"Why did you entrust Baron Penin with this task? Isn't there a risk of the plague spreading?"
The General Staff asked, puzzled, but Duke Leif replied.
"If I don't entrust it to him, won't I have to burn my soldiers for something I'm not even sure of?"
"Ah..."
"And."
He remembered the look in Raymond's eyes.
Eyes that were frightened, but didn't back down.
'Is it his will for the sake of the patient?'
Duke Leif smirked.
'Quite.'
Yes, it was quite.
"Because he was sure of it."
"What?"
"There was a look of conviction in his eyes, not the slightest hint of doubt. If that's the case, then it's worth trusting him rather than sending innocent soldiers straight to the flames."
There was another reason.
A private, personal reason.
'I want to see what the hell he's capable of.'
From the start of the war, Raymond had captured Duke Leif's attention.
It wasn't merely due to his exceptional healing skills; it was his compassion, care, and dedication to his soldiers that had earned him overwhelming support and bolstered morale.
These were the qualities of a commander-nay, a leader-and an inscrutable swordsmanship talent.
Duke Leif wondered what Raymond was capable of.
***
'To solve contact dermatitis, I need to find the culprit.'
As the name implies, the disease arises from "contact" with a harmful substance.
'In other words, I need to determine the specific toxic substance.'
In this case, fortunately, it wasn't difficult.
Since they're soldiers, they're all exposed to a uniform substance.
'Armor!'
They all had inflammation where the armor came in contact with their bare skin.
'But why did the armor cause contact dermatitis, when it was fine before?'
Raymond was puzzled.
'"But why would the armor trigger contact dermatitis now when it was previously fine?'
After investigating, he realized something.
'It's all new armor!'
New armor had been distributed, and seven people had developed contact dermatitis.
'Is this a coincidence? Or not?'
The armor had a cheap and inferior quality to it, evident from its shoddy craftsmanship.
"Apprentice, can you help me with something?"
"Anything."
"Try cutting through this armor with your sword. Without using any mana."
Christine made a puzzled face.
Sure enough, Christine's sword couldn't cut through the armor.
That's because the standard for good armor is to block attacks that don't require "mana."