Chapter 1375 - 744: Daybreak (2)

Chapter 1375: Chapter 744: Daybreak (2)

Instead of letting a minor illness drag on until it becomes serious, many conditions that originally weren’t severe end up leaving sequelae, or even lead directly to death.

One particularly common case mentioned was that of children who die young—sometimes it’s just a small illness that suddenly worsens.

"Recently some children have shown symptoms like agitation and loss of speech, dizziness and fever. They improve after treatment. If you need help, you can contact..."

At first the two people in the room barely reacted, but when they heard this they still sank into unease.

In the dim light, the silence felt especially oppressive, and both of them, as if on cue, turned to look at the child on the bed.

Since people outside were saying that, it meant there must be other children showing similar signs. Ordinary people have limited ways of getting information; they’re stubborn, yet easily shaken by authority. They started to waver.

"What should we do? Maybe we shouldn’t report it..."

The woman herself wasn’t sure as she said it. They weren’t children; they understood that once they reported it, what would happen afterward was completely out of their control.

The simplest example was when the Church cracked down on heresy—they didn’t care about adults or children. If you were suspected, you went straight on the roasting rack.

Now Hamlet’s resolve to purge corruption was too strong. The moment those madmen appeared they were struck down. They were terrified their child would be treated as an infected case, and no parent can just stand by and watch that happen.

You could call them conservative, call them ignorant, but this is experience paid for in blood and tears, the kind that small folk are never remembered for.

"Let’s wait a bit longer. Maybe he’ll get better soon." The man didn’t say much more. He knew perfectly well what his wife was worried about, and could only pray the child would improve after waking up.

Because of this, the woman moved closer to the bed, wanting to tuck the quilt around him, but the moment she touched him she couldn’t help letting out a startled cry.

"The child’s burning up with fever!"

Chaos erupted in the room. Once the candle was lit, the two finally understood why the child had suddenly stopped crying and fussing—it turned out his high fever hadn’t broken.

He wasn’t just not making a fuss; they couldn’t wake him at all. If not for that faint breathing, they would have thought he was gone.

This wasn’t their first child. They’d lost one before, and this one had survived fleeing disaster with them all the way to Hamlet. Their feelings for him ran even deeper.

No wonder they’d tried to hide the child’s illness at the start. He was their treasure.

But now the situation had clearly slipped beyond their control.

They were just ordinary people. The man hauled bricks on a construction site, and the woman did odd jobs while looking after the child. How could they have the courage to face something like this? Now both of them began to panic.

The woman carefully fed the child a little water, but his response was extremely weak.

At this point she finally gave in.

"When they come to deliver food, let’s ask them for help."

Hamlet hadn’t fallen into chaos because of tight control: ordinary people weren’t allowed to go out at will; everyone had to stay at home, and going out without reason would be severely punished.

At the same time there was basic survival support: every day someone would deliver food and water for free, enough for a day’s use. Otherwise plenty of people would have starved to death already.

And that was their one and only chance each day to have contact with the outside world.

"The child won’t last until then. I’m going to find a doctor right now." The man finally stepped up as a father. If he got caught later, so be it; he had to take the risk.

The woman understood what that meant. Tears were already welling in her eyes. With the child like this, if something happened to her husband too, what would she do?

But this wasn’t the time for such words. The man stood, pushed aside the plank blocking the door, and when he opened it a troubling red glow seeped through the crack, agitating his already anxious mood even further.

He had just stepped out when he heard sobbing words behind him.

"Be careful!"

He turned back. In the weak candlelight he saw his wife holding the child.

"The boy and I will wait for you to come back."

"Yeah."

For some reason those words calmed him. He didn’t say anything more, just nodded heavily and stepped outside. That was a husband’s, a father’s, promise.

Watching her husband’s figure disappear into the red glow, the woman’s tears finally burst like a breached dam, yet she didn’t dare sob aloud.

Even if this was merely the spillover from Lance’s clash with the ancestor, not everyone could withstand it.

Sometimes a speck of dust from the times, when it falls on an ordinary person, is a whole mountain.

Since the Blood Moon descended, these past few days had nearly broken her. Now her beloved child was gravely ill, and the husband she relied on was forced to risk leaving. Her emotions lost control.

Now the only one she could rely on was the Lord.

She prayed fervently to the Lord: please save her child, spare her husband...

Fortunately, within Hamlet’s small patch of land, there were no miracles of suffering, no Holy Light, and no evil cult faiths daring to show themselves.

What answered her prayers was Hamlet’s proper, professional team. After the man had barely gone out for a short while, he came back, only now with a squad of police behind him.

Two officers holding torches went inside. The one familiar with this street questioned the couple, confirming the child’s condition.

Another swept the room using the torchlight, making a quick check that there was no danger inside. One officer stationed himself at the doorway, with two more waiting outside. The arrangement was full of caution and defensive intent, but with things still unclear they had no choice but to be careful.

"We’ll arrange for a doctor to come as soon as possible. Don’t worry."

The officer in charge of speaking confirmed the details, then left, though he left two others at the door.

Although the man hadn’t been taken away, the situation left the couple full of nervous speculation. All they could do now was wait.

Fortunately Hamlet worked efficiently. They didn’t wait long before a medical team arrived.

The leader was Grendel, accompanied by two doctors and Boudica, who served as guard and held a torch.

Grendel’s first move on entering wasn’t to examine the patient. She took out a music box and opened it. The light, lively melody, carrying a strange power, instantly eased the oppressive atmosphere, and even the child lying on the bed relaxed his pained expression.

The two doctors, wearing white coats, masks, and gloves, began to examine the patient. Another doctor took out a notebook to record everything, and of course they asked the family some questions as well. Judging by their manner, they were extremely familiar with the whole process.

In fact, lately there had been plenty of similar cases. Not everyone suddenly went mad or lost control. In particular, these locals trusted the Lord, so their resistance was better.

But with children, things were different. This was a syndrome resulting from the combined effects under the Blood Moon’s influence. The first priority was to ease the pressure, which was precisely why Grendel started with the music box.

Of course, there was another reason: this child had a pretty good gift for inspiration, which was why he was more strongly affected than others. In other words, he had Transcendent talent. Whether he’d be a Spellcaster was hard to say yet, but he was at least better than most.

After the examination, Grendel used her power to calm his nerves, and then the doctor directly fed the child a diluted therapeutic potion.

Once the Blood Moon’s influence was driven off, the potion began to take effect. His high temperature quickly dropped, and he slipped into a peaceful sleep again; the strained expression on his face slowly eased.

"Thank you, doctor. Thank you, everyone!" Seeing this scene, the parents finally set down the burden in their hearts, and hurriedly showered everyone with gratitude.

"It’s all right. We’re just following My Lord’s instructions."

The doctor only nodded in reply, but when the woman heard the word "Lord," she couldn’t help asking:

"My Lord... will the sky ever get light again?"

She regretted it as soon as she spoke. That mix of fear and a hint of steel in her expression was a mother’s struggle.

The man snapped to his senses and quickly tugged at her, cursing her in a few coarse, dialect-laced words no one could quite understand.

And in the next second he turned and gave the others a fawning smile: "She’s always this stupid. Please don’t hold it against her..."

The lowly survival reflexes of ordinary people were laid bare. Grendel wanted to answer, but she herself didn’t know when...

Just then, shouts suddenly rang out from outside, spreading rapidly.

Thinking something was wrong, Grendel walked out at once, only to realize something, and jerked her head up... She froze where she stood, muttering under her breath.

"It’s dawn."