Our Family Has Fallen

Chapter 332: Chapter 241: Deerhead Tribe_1

”This fungus dislikes light but thrives in warm, moist, and dim environments. Its spores and mycelium have a significant inhibitory effect on pathogens.”

Lance stood beside Paracelsus, looking at the vast expanse of mushrooms cultivated in the sanatorium’s basement room. After just a few days of breeding, there were already so many. Indeed, the reproduction of fungi is just that irrationally fast.

Perhaps this was one of the reasons why the Witch chose fungi as her focus—the efficiency was simply too high.

The eradication of the plague was a fortunate event for the vast majority of people, but there was one exception: Paracelsus.

Because the plague had already been treated before she could complete her research on the Disease-Resistant Shiitake, her efforts suddenly seemed to lose much of their significance.

Paracelsus studied this partially out of spite. Although she did not show it, she was actually very confident and proud.

But now, a Barbarian Tribes shamaness had emerged from the wilderness and, using the very witchcraft Paracelsus despised, concocted a miraculous Potion that cured the plague first.

When this situation arose, she knew she had lost. Her pride, however, wouldn’t let her show it, and this festering negativity was deeply unpleasant.

Lance understood that she needed recognition, encouragement, and of course, a goal to channel her energy.

”You’re wrong to think that, and grievously so,” Lance corrected her short-sighted view, guiding her to look further ahead.

”We should not only study the disease-resisting traits exhibited by these shiitake mushrooms but delve deeper. Perhaps this characteristic can be applied to other types of fungal infections. If successful, your name will be etched in the annals of medical history.

Even if it is not universally applicable, our people are destined to face infections known as withering disease as they open up and rid the wilderness of corruption. We cannot always resort to consuming precious rare herbs and expending a great deal of manpower for treatment every time.

Therefore, developing a specific drug from these Disease-Resistant Shiitake is the right choice, allowing us to use simpler materials and lower costs to achieve better healing effects.”

Lance’s vision was much more long-term. With such superior antifungal characteristics, it was quite possible to extract a broad-spectrum antibiotic miracle drug like penicillin from the mushrooms. This product, without exaggeration, could cut thirty years off the winding path of medical reform.

Even if it only worked against the one fungus created by the Witch, it would still have considerable effects.

One must remember the countless people who would be exposed to the corruption as they developed the wilderness. How many would contract the withering disease?

Lance’s earlier efforts to rally the people’s hearts came at a great cost, as he spared no expense in saving lives, especially soldiers.

However, he was not so inclined to waste resources on the Serfs. Therefore, it was essential to find a better medicine, and the Disease-Resistant Shiitake were key.

More importantly, one must not forget that the legacy of the Witch was in his hands. Some of her research was something Lance intended to restart.

Fungi specifically designed to combat Flesh—if he could harness them—would be a significant aid in overcoming the ancient ancestor.

But Lance was also worried, so he needed to find an antidote to control it before daring to use it.

For now, though, it was essential to cajole this university student first.

”She could do it, and I believe you can too. After all, you are a university student. What we need now is to find a way to extract the unique substances contained within the mushrooms...”

Paracelsus was intelligent, with rigorous and meticulous thinking, but when it came to manipulating people, she was far from being Lance’s match.

Under Lance’s encouragement (or inducement), Paracelsus began to take this research project seriously again. She was going to prove herself with ”science”!

”Say what you need...” Lance was, of course, pleased to see this, treating her the same way he treated Grendel before.

But before he could finish his sentence, a remark from Paracelsus made him falter.

”I need more test subjects.”

”Uh... this...”

It was one thing to ask for money or materials, but where could they find so many criminals for her to study?

Despite being a bastard, Lance couldn’t do what the ancient ancestor did—randomly using people for experiments—since all the residents were his assets, which he cherished dearly.

After his bold declaration, hesitant to brush it off as he had in the past, Lance had to concede.

”Alright then. I’ll have someone ensure those five wretches hanging in the square don’t die. They’ll be brought to you in a couple of days. But you must remember you are human and respect life. Don’t end up like the Witch.”

Such words might hold little weight coming from someone else, but they seemed particularly awkward coming from Lance, a man known for his ruthlessness.

「 」

”So, you’re not planning to look around a bit more and have decided this quickly?”

Lance looked at Grendel before him. He had only told her that morning that he would give her time. He thought it would take a while, but to his surprise, she came to him so soon.

Grendel was still dressed in the attire of the Barbarian Tribes, except that since removing the Antler Mask, she hadn’t worn it on her face but rather carried it at her waist. It seemed she didn’t usually need to wear it.

Lance didn’t restrict her movement. On the contrary, he afforded her considerable convenience.

Moreover, since the news of her curing the plague spread, the townspeople treated her with respect. Thus, Grendel could easily gather information about the town. With that inexplicable trust, she was even granted access to the training camp.