EPISODE 47
They were villagers turned to stone after having their body heat stolen by the basilisk.
The villagers’ faces were twisted in expressions of sheer terror. Some were frozen in the act of screaming, mouths wide open; others had hunched over, covering their faces with both hands as if to shield themselves from a horror too great to behold.
All of their poses were unnaturally rigid.
Some had collapsed mid-fall; others had their arms stretched out, caught in the act of trying to run away.
They were no ordinary statues. The texture of their skin, the folds of their clothes, even individual strands of hair had turned to stone. And yet, there was an eerie sense that life still lingered within them.
It was as if they were still trapped inside, suffering in silence.
The knights swallowed hard as they looked upon the scene. Some turned away; others grimaced and fell silent.
The Count finally opened his mouth, voice heavy with grief.
“These were all residents of our very own Marcana. Some were farmers, others merchants. Just ordinary people, living their lives. But now, as you can see… they’ve ended up like this.”
His voice trembled. He laid a hand on the shoulder of one of the petrified villagers.
“Are they still alive? Or are they already gone? I honestly can’t say. But… if there is any way to return them to their original state, I would pay any price.”
His desperate eyes turned to the knights.
At that moment, Kallen stepped forward.
“I will examine them.”
Kallen slowly walked among the stone figures.
She let her fingertips glide over the cold, hardened skin. After some time, her hand came to rest on the head of a child, and she stopped walking.
The child’s arms were outstretched in fear, eyes wide open. Kallen closed her eyes, resting her hand atop the child’s head, as though blessing them like a priest performing a rite.
At last, she pulled her hand away, startled. She remained silent for a moment, then slowly looked up at the Count.
“There’s a faint pulse. I can feel a bit of life energy in each of them. It’s weak, but… their hearts are still beating. Thankfully, it seems they haven’t fully died.”
The Count’s eyes widened at her words. A faint glimmer of hope returned to his face.
“Truly? Then there’s still a chance we can bring them back?”
But Kallen shook her head, her expression still clouded.
“I’m sorry. I’ve never healed something like this before. Basilisks are extremely rare beasts, even on the continent, and little is known about their paralysis or petrification symptoms…”
Kallen lowered her gaze. Watching her, my heart ached with sympathy.
The hope that had risen on the Count’s face was quickly overshadowed again. He sighed and lowered his head.
“Still, the fact that they’re alive is something to be thankful for. But… if there’s no way to save them, then being alive may only prolong their suffering.”
The Count’s voice quivered, and the knights looked at him with heavy hearts as his shoulders subtly shook.
“Count,” Antonio stepped forward and placed a hand on his back.
“It’s too early to give up. Let us defeat the basilisk and search for more clues here. There must be a way.”
The Count gave him a small nod of gratitude before continuing.
“There are also those who haven’t fully turned to stone. Some have only partially petrified and are groaning in pain. We have a few mages among us, but… they haven’t found a cure.”
“May I examine them?” Kallen raised her hand. “If they’re able to speak and describe their symptoms, I might be able to find a treatment.”
The Count smiled faintly and nodded.
“Then follow me.”
The Count led the knights to the west wing of the mansion.
This section, usually used by the household’s servants, had been transformed into a makeshift hospital with long wooden beds and partition curtains.
The space was large, fitting of a noble’s estate, but the heavy atmosphere, thick with groans and pained breathing, made it stifling.
Several patients lay on the beds. Some had limbs partially turned to stone, while others were petrified on one side of their bodies. They writhed in pain, moaning softly.
“These ones faced the basilisk but narrowly escaped full petrification,” the Count explained in a low voice.
Kallen approached a woman with a petrified arm and sat beside her, carefully examining the affected area. The woman’s arm had turned to stone up to the shoulder, the skin cold and rigid, and her face contorted in agony.
“Do you feel anything from the petrified part?” Kallen asked gently.
The woman nodded weakly. Her voice was faint, but clear.
“Yes… It’s cold… and heavy. Like the stone is slowly consuming my body. I can’t move it, but it feels like something is writhing inside.”
Kallen furrowed her brow.
She went on to question other patients. Each described similar symptoms: their petrified parts weren’t numb—they felt something. One said it felt like being crushed. Another compared it to insects crawling beneath the skin.
Kallen took out a small notebook and recorded their symptoms, then paused in deep thought before giving a slow nod.
She approached the mansion’s physician and spoke.
“Could you gather about thirty roots of a plant called nurijang tree? It grows in rich soil near mountain valleys, blooms with pale red flowers around this time of year, and has a foul odor.”
The physician seemed unfamiliar with the name and hesitated.
“Nurijang tree, you say? I don’t think I know that one… Could you describe it further?”
Kallen drew a quick sketch in her notebook and showed it to him—detailed depictions of the reddish flowers and unique leaf shapes. The physician studied the drawing and nodded in recognition.
“Ah! That’s kkaetari! We call it kkaetari here. I’ll take some assistants and head out at once.”
He carefully folded the drawing and quickly left with his team.
After they departed, the Count asked her carefully,
“You’ve given a prescription?”
“Yes. The nurijang tree is known to help with muscle paralysis, making stiffened parts more flexible. I want to see if it alleviates their symptoms. We’ll observe first and then try another treatment.”
Her calm, clear tone impressed me deeply. So meticulous, composed, capable, and decisive—it was easy to see why Antonio trusted her so much.
“Thank you.” The Count gave a grateful nod. The heavy air in the room seemed to lift just slightly.
“Um, knights. There’s something strange.”
A patient raised his hand. One of his legs had turned to stone. With his buzzed hair and solid frame, he appeared to be a soldier who had encountered the basilisk in the field.
“The basilisk attacks some houses, but leaves others completely untouched. Even ones right next to each other.”
I quickly stepped closer.
“What do you mean? Please explain in more detail.”
“Some homes, it breaks into and attacks the owners. Others, it doesn’t even approach. The inconsistency is… too suspicious.”
