Chapter 27: Withering Syndrome
With Loloan’s assistance, Ron forcibly knocked open the door to the pit. He could have done it alone but felt it would look foolish. Summoning Loloan for such a reason? Yes, that was precisely the reason. A foul smell emanated from the pit when the door was knocked open.
If Ron were to describe it, it would be the odour of an unfinished room left unattended for several months. However, Ron emphasised the foulness because there was also a smell of decay inside.
As for Loloan, they’ve already gone to inform Moluna and the other Phylin tribes. Their skipping and bouncing resembled a child about to go on an outing.
“Shall we scout ahead?” After the others arrived, Ron took a peek inside first to see the situation.
After all, such a large bandit camp without a single person was really quite strange. He cautiously walked in and found the pit walls thoughtfully lit with lamps.
Ron had been concerned about the darkness inside the pit, but now he didn’t need to worry anymore.
However, the lamps deepened Ron’s confusion—lights where there was no sign of anyone. Even if the bandits evacuated the camp in advance, knowing the Phylin tribes were coming, this scenario didn’t quite fit.
If they left in a hurry, the neatly arranged bedding was peculiar. Everything around was tidied up so neatly, completely unlike the appearance of an abandoned camp. He held the ashes of the furnace in his hand, ensuring he could attack any potential enemies at a moment’s notice.
After enduring that hellish training regimen, his combat reflexes had become nearly flawless. Even if an enemy were to jump down from above, he could still manage to step back in time. The instinct for battle was ingrained deep within him. Without Ron even realising it, he slipped into an intensely focused state. Soon, he encountered the first person inside the pit. However, a bandit was sitting against the wall, continuously groaning, showing no intention of attacking him.
Ron raised his sword, but the other person paid no attention. The bandit was curled up, eyes fixed ahead, seemingly unaware of Ron’s presence. Ron prodded the bandit with the furnace ashes, but even after being knocked down, the person remained completely motionless. The bandit continued to huddle, murmuring something, showing no intention of getting up. This defeated demeanour gave Ron an inexplicable chill.
“System, what’s going on?” Ron frowned. “Where is this high-energy reaction you mentioned? I thought I’d encounter something akin to an evil deity in this pit.”
“The vitality of this human has been depleted by more than half and has contracted Withering Syndrome.”
“Withering Syndrome?” Ron was hearing this term for the first time.
“Withering Syndrome is an illness that frequently occurs near the roots of the Mother Sacred Tree. Its symptoms mainly manifest as partial plantification.”
“The Mother Sacred Tree? That towering tree?” Ron had only recently heard about the Mother Sacred Tree. “Its roots are here?”
“The roots of the Mother Sacred Tree spread throughout the underground of the Bicolor Realm. The roots beneath the Wind Veil Basin are just a small portion.”
“The Mother Sacred Tree draws life force from its surroundings through its roots. People living near the roots of the Mother Sacred Tree will lose their life force.”
“However, the trunk of the Mother Sacred Tree contains abundant life force. People living near the trunk will have exceptionally robust life force.”
“What about me?” Ron quickly examined his arm. “Have I also had my life force drained?”
“Hello, your assessment is accurate. You truly are a time traveller.”
“If you continue to reside in the Wind Veil Basin for an extended period, your lifespan will be reduced by at least half.”
“A friendly reminder: even if you leave the Wind Veil Basin now, the lost life force cannot be restored.”
“What? Huh? I’ve already lost lifespan?” Ron felt like his pupils were shaking.
“Yes, you’ve lost lifespan.”
“The Phylin tribe? Moluna and Lilian?” He couldn’t believe he was like a straw someone had used to suck out his life force.
“Witches cannot have their life force drained by the Mother Sacred Tree. The vitality of the Dragon race is extremely strong and can largely ignore the drained part.”
“The Phylin tribe’s vitality is average, similar to humans. The loss of life force greatly impacts their quality of life.”
“This isn’t just impacting quality of life, right?” Ron quipped as he looked at the bandit lying on the ground. “This is lethal.”
He kicked the bandit and began to examine the person’s condition carefully. Ron caught the lamp and observed the roots on the bandit’s body. The roots grew from the skin, extending out from the crevices of the armour. Moreover, some roots grew even from the corners of the eyes, which was terrifying.
If Ron were to look into the bandit’s mouth, he might even see roots growing inside, causing the tongue muscles to wither. However, these roots lacked vitality, as if water hadn’t nourished them for years.
Seeing these roots, Ron understood why it was called Withering Syndrome. It seemed as if withered roots had parasitised the person.
“How can this illness be treated?” Ron didn’t want to end up like these people.
“At present, Withering Syndrome cannot be treated. It can only be prevented by ensuring robust vitality.”
“Please rest assured, you won’t contract Withering Syndrome in the short term.”
However, as long as the roots of the Mother Sacred Tree are around, people will continue to have their life force drained.
“Cut down all the roots of the Mother Sacred Tree?” Ron frowned, trying to confirm.
“Your theory is correct. Removing the roots of the Mother Sacred Tree would prevent Withering Syndrome in the Wind Veil Basin.”
“The system suggests you burn the Mother Sacred Tree directly. Although it’s challenging, the system can still initiate a mission for you.”
Cold sweat started forming on Ron’s forehead. “No, let’s talk about it another time.”
His instincts told him that if he let the system issue this task, he would probably meet a gruesome end.
“Let’s find a way to cut down these tree roots,” Ron sighed.
“By the way, where are these roots located? Are they here in this pit?” Ron inquired.
“Your guess is correct. Some of the Fruit Dew’s roots are below this pit.”
That’s why people around the camp are affected by Withering Syndrome.
“But didn’t any of these people run away?” Ron kicked the bandit back with a sense of frustration.
If he discovered any symptoms in himself, Ron would definitely seek treatment.
Is there a specific reason for this bandit witnessing the onset of Withering Syndrome?
