Chapter 160: The Poisoned Salt

The five beastmen followed closely behind Sora, their expressions unusually serious.

None of them interrupted her conversation with the wolf-eared beastman. They could tell from Sora’s expression that the situation was far more serious than they had initially imagined.

The wolf-eared beastman hurried along beside her, answering her questions as best as he could.

"Everyone in the tribe was poisoned."

Sora’s footsteps quickened.

"What about Lukan?"

"Lukan went to find the shaman. He said he would bring him back as quickly as possible."

Sora nodded.

They soon reached the tribe’s settlement.

Normally, this would have been the busiest time of the day. Evening was approaching, and smoke should have been rising from cooking fires. Beastmen would usually be moving between the wooden houses, children would be playing nearby, and the scent of food would fill the air.

But today, there was only silence.

An unsettling silence.

The only sounds were the occasional groans and cries coming from the sick members of the tribe.

Sora’s expression immediately became solemn.

Most of the beastmen had already crawled out of their wooden houses. Some lay curled on animal-skin blankets, while others rolled weakly across the ground. Several were drooling uncontrollably. Others clutched their stomachs or struggled to breathe.

The symptoms weren’t completely identical, but they were clearly connected.

Sora’s gaze swept across the settlement.

Then she saw Lyra.

The usually lively woman was lying weakly to one side, her face pale. She looked so exhausted that even lifting her head seemed difficult.

Sora’s heart tightened.

This wasn’t a minor illness.

When Martin saw Sora inspecting the sick, he struggled to push himself upright.

"Kaelira..."

His voice was weak.

"The people of this tribe are in your care."

Sora immediately stepped closer.

"Don’t worry. I’ll take care of everyone."

Martin tried to speak again, but Sora stopped him.

"Don’t waste your strength. You’re already weak."

She crouched beside him and examined his condition.

Then she asked, "I’ll ask you a few questions. You don’t need to speak. Just nod or shake your head."

Martin nodded.

"Are you having difficulty breathing?"

He shook his head.

"Any other unusual symptoms?"

Again, he shook his head.

Sora carefully checked him before moving toward the next person.

Lyra was beside him.

At first, she seemed merely exhausted. But then Sora noticed saliva slowly dripping from the corner of her mouth.

Sora’s eyes narrowed.

She examined Lyra briefly before moving on.

Mark was in much worse condition.

He was clutching his stomach and repeatedly rushing away from the group.

Sora frowned.

"Diarrhea?"

Mark could barely respond. He simply nodded weakly.

Sora continued checking the other members.

Some had diarrhea.

Some were struggling to breathe.

Others were drooling uncontrollably.

A few were so weak that they could barely move.

Sora’s expression became increasingly serious.

Something was wrong.

Her wood-based supernatural ability could help heal injuries and certain illnesses, but she couldn’t simply restore the health of an entire tribe simultaneously without knowing what had caused the problem.

She needed to find the source.

The flood had forced the tribe to move here, but they had already lived in this area for some time. Nothing like this had happened before.

So the location itself probably wasn’t responsible.

Sora began eliminating possibilities.

Food.

Water.

Salt.

Something they had all consumed.

She and several of the beastmen had drunk from the same deep pool, yet none of them had developed these symptoms.

That made the water unlikely.

Her gaze settled on the wolf-eared beastman who had brought her here.

"Did anything unusual happen in the tribe today?"

The young beastman scratched his head.

"Nothing that I can remember. We ate wild fruits in the morning and went hunting after lunch."

"You cooked lunch yourselves?"

He nodded.

"Yes. Ever since you taught us how to make clay pots and gave us salt, we’ve been cooking our own meals."

Sora’s brows furrowed.

"Tell me exactly what you did."

"We prepared the food normally. In the past, salt was extremely precious, so the amount used for cooking was carefully divided according to the number of people. But now that we have more salt, we use it ourselves."

Sora nodded slowly.

Nothing seemed unusual.

Then she looked at the boy again.

"What did you do today?"

"I did the same things as always."

"You ate breakfast?"

"Yes."

"You went hunting?"

"Yes."

"And you’re the only one who didn’t become sick?"

The wolf-eared beastman looked confused.

"Yes."

Sora’s mind suddenly clicked.

She asked one more question.

"Have you eaten dinner yet?"

The young beastman shook his head awkwardly.

"Not yet. I’m not very good at cooking, so I didn’t prepare anything."

Sora’s eyes sharpened.

"Show me your salt."

The boy froze.

"Do you think there’s something wrong with the salt?"

"Just show me."

He quickly entered his wooden house.

A moment later, he returned carrying a small animal-skin bag.

Sora took it from him and opened it.

The salt appeared white and ordinary at first glance.

But when she spread some across her palm, her expression changed.

Mixed among the white grains were tiny yellow particles.

Her eyes became cold.

"How long have you been using this?"

The wolf-eared beastman thought for a moment.

"Since the chief distributed it the day before yesterday."

"And you?"

"I haven’t eaten much of it. I told you, I’m terrible at cooking."

Sora finally understood.

She turned toward the tribe.

"I know what’s happening."

Everyone nearby looked toward her.

"What is it?" one of the beastmen asked.

Sora didn’t immediately answer.

Instead, she instructed the wolf-eared beastman, "Tell everyone to gather in the square."

The boy hurried away.

Sora immediately returned to the wild kitchen and retrieved the jar of sugar she had just made out of sugarcane. She also grabbed several bowls.

She mixed sugar into water and quickly prepared a simple restorative drink.

Then she brought it to Mark.

"Drink this."

Mark stared weakly at the bowl.

Before he could take it, another weak voice sounded.

"Kaelira... what is that?"

It was a worried member of the tribe.

"Are you certain it’s safe?"

Mark hesitated.

But Martin spoke weakly from nearby.

"I trust Kaelira."

His voice was faint, but there was certainty in it.

"If she can teach us to make salt and pottery, I believe she knows what she’s doing."

Kasia and Zainabu also nodded weakly.

"We trust her."

The worried woman bit her lip.

"Perhaps we should wait for the shaman."

Sora shook her head.

"If you wait, more people could become seriously ill."

She pointed toward the salt.

"The problem isn’t the salt I taught you to make. Something has been mixed into it afterward."

The surrounding beastmen stared at her.

"What?"

"If my salt itself were poisonous, I would have been affected too."

Sora’s gaze swept across the group.

"And I haven’t."

Her voice became colder.

"Someone may have deliberately tampered with the salt."

A murmur spread through the crowd.

"Deliberately?"

"Who would do something like that?"

"Why would anyone poison the entire tribe?"

Sora didn’t answer those questions yet.

She had no proof.