I Became the Leader of the Monster Circus Troupe

Ismi Plateau was the name of the high coastal area sandwiched between the Sierra Madre Mountains and the Huz Sea.

In the front yard, there were borders; in the mountains behind, there were dragons; neighboring the area were sturdy mountain people, and within the region, there were abundant undeveloped resources. It was a place with the potential to immediately write the myth of territorial development.

However, realistically, it was difficult to attract investment due to its proximity to the border, safety was extremely low due to the threat of dragons, and constant conflicts arose due to stubborn neighbours. Additionally, the dense forests and hills made it challenging for the land to prosper.

Nevertheless, this place was the only land route connecting Kiev and Charlotia.

Just a few decades ago, this region had thrived much more than it does now, thanks to serving as a bridge between the two countries.

However, with the advancement of navigation technology, the development of large and small canals, and the discovery of new routes over the mountains, it had lost its former prosperity.

When winter began with freezing, making navigation difficult in Huz Bay, travellers passing through Ismi Plateau’s winding hills increased, providing some comfort.

But now, it was the end of July.

No one attempted to use the winding hills of Ismi Plateau when they could sail.

Dvallchep was one of the villages in such Ismi Plateau.

Normally, the people of Dvallchep would be busy harvesting summer cabbages on the highland at this time.

However, a few days ago, an unwelcome guest visited, destroying their entire daily lives.

The Curse Plague.

The dreadful calamity that was only heard of in rumours had begun to spread in this altered village.

The lord governing Ismi Plateau dispatched knights and soldiers as soon as he heard the news.

Their mission was to save whoever they could, burn the bodies, and block the entry of outsiders.

Contrary to its name, the Curse Plague was not contagious.

It was more of a localized curse phenomenon than a plague.

So, as long as protective measures were faithfully taken on-site, there was no fear of it spreading outward.

People infected with the Devolution could be restored to their original state by injecting the Galaxy.

However, the Galaxy was not a readily available resource.

Because no one knew when and where the Curse Plague would erupt.

Only about 10% of the village’s population could be saved with the medication.

The rest had to silently watch as parts of their bodies transformed arbitrarily.

If the body could no longer withstand the transformation, death awaited them, and once confirmed dead, soldiers would take them away and set their bodies on fire.

When an epidemic broke out, burning the bodies was crucial.

The bodies that died painfully from the disease emitted negative spiritual waves.

It had the effect of breaking down the barrier between the Abyss and this world.

Especially, such rural villages in the forest were vulnerable to spiritual protection.

If more than a dozen people died from the epidemic in a day, strong demons that could harm humans could appear.

Knight Ivanenko led the two visitors into the stockade.

The two introduced themselves as wizards and boasted that they could defend against Devolution.

There was no reason to refuse anyone willing to help, especially when one had only one hand.

Ivanenko descended from the stockade and looked around the inside of the village with a sigh.

The fire, which had been ignited in the firewood a while ago, was now gradually sinking, emitting cold smoke.

They had burned 30 bodies today alone.

And there were still over 500 infected people.

Though residents with less severe symptoms were helping, it was not enough.

Dvallchep’s population was over a thousand.

Originally, even with him and ten soldiers, it was an unbearable number.

But they were sent to this scene.

Injected with the Galaxy, which was said to be harsher than the plague.

Ivanenko could see the faces of the soldiers and understand by what criteria they had been selected.

They were individuals without skills or even a trace of talent.

Yet, they couldn’t refuse orders because of the families they had to support.

Though Ivanenko was a knight, his situation was not much different from theirs.

Due to his straightforward handling of tasks, he had earned the dislike of his superiors.

On top of that, he had a wife and three children to provide for.

He had no choice but to obey orders.

He signed a document agreeing to side effects such as baldness, erectile dysfunction, and permanent liver damage before receiving the galaxy injection.

He looked at the two people entering the tent.

While it was too dark to see them clearly before, he could now examine their faces.

They appeared to be a handsome young man in his mid-twenties and a doll-like girl with noticeable white hair.

They had aristocratic impressions rather than those of acrobats.

He briefly explained the situation to them.

“If it’s not the fourth shipment of the galaxy, I don’t know how much we can get. The village priest used about 20 sanctities and collapsed, spilling coffee all over.”

There were three ways to cure the curse plague.

The first was to receive the galaxy injection, a remedy made by the Alchemy Guild.

The second was to use the light stake used by priests of the Holy Church to expel the curse.

The third, a somewhat brutish method, involved physically cutting out the infected area.

For the last method, a doctor was required to identify the mutation site and cut the body before subsequent treatment.

Unfortunately, the doctor in this village had succumbed to the plague early on.

Therefore, Ivanenko had no choice but to give up on the last method.

Fortunately, a mage who had learned medical magic offered to help, so it seemed like luck was on their side.

With his assistance, they could probably save some people by cutting off wrists or ankles.

Wonderstein followed Ivanenko into the village, observing the surroundings.

Each house had papers with ancient imperial language written on them attached to the doors.

He knew what they were—familiar items.

They were props used by Bendict, who played the role of the cursed Mummy in the troupe.

Victor Saint, or whatever his name was, had received the title of Saint from the Holy Church for his achievements in eradicating the Black Plague and defeating the demon lord known as the Plague Lord.

His treatise on plague relief was proudly received by the Holy Church, and it became a custom to attach verses from the scriptures he wrote when the plague spread.

Soldiers crushed the charred bones among the ashes.

There was no house where agonizing groans couldn’t be heard.

The smell of death permeated everywhere.

Ivanenko expected the two newcomers to be nervous or frightened in some way.

However, Wonderstein continued to smile, and Maya observed the burning bodies with an indifferent expression.

Contrary to their seemingly intact exteriors, there was a chilling aspect to their attitudes.

Ivanenko led the two to the village hall.

There, residents in relatively good condition were helping with relief efforts.

These were people whose mutations were limited to extremities; anyway, ‘amputation’ was not a method for those seriously affected by the disease.

He intended to ask these people for help with the two mages.

An elderly man, handling food distribution paperwork, rushed over in surprise at the sight of unfamiliar faces.

“Sir Knight… Who are these people?”

“These are passing acrobats, no, magicians with medical skills. I plan to entrust your treatment to them.”

“If you say ‘treatment’… what about it?”contemporary romance

“Yes. I will cut out the affected area.”

At his words, the old man hastily clasped his hands behind his back.

The affected area in question was both hands.

He didn’t have much time left in his life. Even though it might be better to carry the disability, Wonderstein couldn’t bring himself to cut off those hands, no matter how much it was for the sake of treating the disease.

The knight also understood this, nodding in agreement.

“We won’t cut off the hands of the elderly. Instead, bring those whose conditions are stable.”

Soon, several people stepped forward.

They had deformities on one ear, a couple of fingers, a bit of thigh flesh, or part of their shoulders affected.

Wonderstein couldn’t help but inwardly groan as he looked at the areas they presented.

Their skin seemed to be crawling with hundreds of insects inside.

And their forms were changing every moment.

Even the stabilized affected areas didn’t look pleasant.

Tentacle-like protrusions, sharp-toothed beaks, and even eyeball-like structures were pulsating.

Wonderstein finally understood what the curse plague meant.

The ordinary people sacrificed in Wonderstein’s power in the game.

They looked just like them.

The name “Debulroots” was not a mere coincidence.

Of course, the victims in the game were much more miserable than these individuals.

Things like octopus-like legs emerging by dozens from the abdomen, serpent-like entities wriggling in the eye sockets, or fingers growing meters long and intertwining with each other, with skin and flesh sticking together.

Compared to the victims directly affected by Wonderstein, these people were relatively in good condition.

Of course, they might not see it that way, having experienced the equivalent of being struck by lightning in the dry sky.

Anyway, this was a problem that he could handle sufficiently.

No, perhaps there was no one else in the world who could handle it properly.

“Hurry up! If you’re going to cut it anyway, cut it quickly!”

Wonderstein looked at the patient in front of him.

Something like a crab shell was growing on his shoulder. It would occasionally split the skin and protrude, then spew out a bunch of foam, and retreat back into the shell.

Thanks to the laughing man, he managed to maintain a smile, albeit barely.

Wonderstein suppressed his breath.

He aligned his emotions with the calmness feigned by the man laughing.

What was the curse plague?

Why was Debulroot affecting these people?

He decided to postpone these questions and focus on treatment.

He placed his hands on the patient’s body and attempted a diagnosis.

However, before he could give the diagnosis command, the status window responded first.

[Detected Free Debulroot. Initiating absorption.]

Ugh.

Sudden pain flowed through his arm as if dozens of needles were piercing and digging into his palm.

[Acquired Debulroots x14.]

[Initiating dependency of absorbed Debulroots.]

[Dependency at 56%. System and body burden increasing at 33%.]

The status window flickered like a malfunctioning monitor.

It felt like a malicious code had invaded.

The Debulroots he possessed was a loyal subordinate, but the absorbed Debulroots seemed like a wild beast. It rampaged fiercely inside his body.

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