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Light Novel Title: "White Plague Chronicles: The King Without a Throne"
Volume 2 — Chapter 17: The Royal Decree
The sun dipped behind the hills, casting shadows across the dirt path. A chilling wind passed by as Leornars Servs Avrem, draped in a tattered black cloak, marched forward. His two undead companions, Ascian and Bellian, followed closely behind—silent, soulless, and deadly.
A suffocating aura of bloodlust clung to Leornars like a storm cloud, growing thicker with every step. His crimson eyes glowed dimly beneath his hood, and a hiss of steam escaped his lips as his power surged—empowering the undead behind him.
> "This place stinks of filth."
He muttered, low and cold.
Just a few meters ahead, eight slave traders were lounging around three caged carriages, filled with crying human and demi-human captives. The captives' eyes were hollow, their bodies malnourished.
Laughter halted.
A blood-red mist swirled in the air—unnatural, oppressive.
One of the slavers stood, confused. Then—a sharp glint. A blade.
In the next second, a knife buried deep into his throat.
> "He—he's down!"
Panic spread like fire.
> "ARM YOURSELVES!!"
The bandit leader barked.
From the mist, a voice answered, rough and deathly calm.
> "So... you're the leader. Thanks for clarifying. I'll make your death particularly unpleasant."
Leornars stepped out.
The slavers rushed in, but Ascian pounced like a beast, dragging one into the dark, his scream cut short. Bellian reappeared behind another, his blade slicing through skull and spine in a blink.
Leornars raised his hand.
> "Skill: Bubble."
Bubbles floated gently—strangely beautiful.
> "Huh...? A bubble?"
The bandits stared.
Then the screams began.
Their skin bubbled, boiled, and melted off their bones as the corrosive spell ate through flesh. Three fell.
The rest prepared for battle.
Only three remained.
> "Tch...!"
Leornars vanished, reappearing behind one of them.
> "Touch of Decay."
The man's body instantly rotted into mush, dissolving into the soil.
The two survivors trembled.
One screamed and charged.
Leornars ducked low, then surged up, plunging a dagger into his jaw and slicing upward—decapitating him in one fluid motion.
The last bandit dropped his weapon and fell backward.
> "P-please... I'll give you everything I have! Just don't kill me!"
Leornars slowly approached, eyes glowing ever redder.
> "You sold children. You tried to sell lives for coins."
> "I—I didn't know—!"
> "Can you buy back their trauma with gold?"
He raised his blade.
"Can you buy back innocence with begging?"
He sliced off the man's fingers.
> "You are unworthy to serve even as my undead."
The final touch—Bubble and Touch of Decay combined—reduced him to nothing but a stain on the earth.
With a cold breath, Leornars sheathed his blade.
The slaves were freed one by one, their eyes filled with disbelief. All fled into the woods.
Except for one little girl.
She stood, clutching her torn dress, eyes wide.
> "Let's go," Leornars said softly, "Your old man is waiting."
She followed.
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A few hours later...
Tears poured down the father's face as he hugged his daughter.
> "What happened to the bandits?" Stacian asked.
> "They ran." Leornars replied, unbothered, as he packed herbs into his satchel.
> "If it's not too much, please... come eat at my home. I have nothing else to give you," the man said, bowing deeply.
Leornars narrowed his eyes.
Suspicion flickered in them.
Stacian stepped in with a smile.
> "We'd love to."
("We? Who's we?" Leornars thought, irritated.)
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Later — The Village of Lost Light
They walked for hours into a forgotten forest until the village revealed itself: tattered homes, stagnant waters, the stench of rot. Leornars frowned.
> "This place..." he whispered.
The old man removed his cap, revealing cat-like ears.
> "Leux...?"
A memory flickered—an old friend.
> "Everyone, come! Our protector has returned! The White Plague has come!"
Slowly, villagers gathered, most sickly, some crying. One woman walked by, clutching the corpse of her child.
> "He died from the poisoned water... and food," the man said, his voice hollow. "I don't even know what I'll feed my daughter tonight."
Leornars stood still. Pale.
> "Stacian," he said quietly, "Can you purify the water?"
> "The contamination is... too deep."
Leornars stepped forward, dipping his hand into the water.
> "Then I'll clean it myself."
He unleashed both Bubble and Touch of Decay—his mana pouring into the lake.
Stacian followed up:
> "Light Magic: Detoxification and Purification!"
The lake glowed, boiled, then calmed. Mist drifted away. The water—clear.
The villagers gasped.
> "It's... safe. It's SAFE!"
Cheers erupted.
Leornars sighed, sitting on a wooden bench.
> "I may have overdone it," Stacian said.
> "Yap." Leornars replied, arms crossed.
They spent the night eating with the grateful villagers.
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The Next Day — Durmount Guild Hall
> "Some adventurers they are," the receptionist scoffed. "Weak, useless—"
Suddenly, she froze.
Leornars leaned close, whispering.
> "The audacity you have... be careful. One day, you might find yourself dead and buried... next to a toilet."
His glowing red eye glared.
She paled.
They left.
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At the Market
> "Why are we here?" Stacian asked.
Leornars entered a women's clothing shop.
> "Make her look presentable. Some other basic clothing too... and underwear."
Stacian turned beet red.
Leornars ignored it and walked off.
Suddenly—a loudspeaker flared to life.
> "This is Prince Edgar, broadcasting emergency news. The Kingdom of Durmount has summoned heroes... but also summoned someone else.
The White Plague—a prophesied force—resides among us. My father, King Edmund, seeks to enslave him. I, however, will not.
He is armed. Dangerous. But kind to those deserving. Leave him be... or face the consequences."
The crowd was stunned.
> "Durmount is hunting me already?" Leornars muttered, biting his nail.
> "The demi-humans might revolt..."
"He could unify them..."
"If he does, Durmount is finished!"
The whispers surrounded him.
He grinned.
> "So I really am a problem... Good."
He turned, walking into the sunset with crimson eyes glowing brightly.
> "I'll unify the demi-human races... I'll end this war.
But before that... Durmount must fall."
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To be continued.
Next Chapter: "March of the White Throne"