American Isekai - Chapter 179 (Patreon)

April 3, 624

“...5 Bombardos were killed during the battle. It came at the expense of 120 troops, though. Eventually, the escort army was killed off and some retreated, saving us some more people.”

“I understand. Thank you, First Commander. Take care of your soldiers. I’ll make sure your Company has the time to recuperate.”

“Thank you, Envoy.”

I shook hands with the First Commander, his Aura appreciative. I was well respected not just because I could carry myself with a certain degree of authority, but because I treated people well. I did what I could for them, and I didn’t forget my promises. 

The loss of 120 people might not matter to someone like Alois. He wouldn’t hesitate to send them right back out after bolstering their numbers a bit to make up for the death. 

But sometimes people needed a small break to process a slaughter like that. I could give them that time, and commanders appreciated that greatly, especially when I actually made true on my words. 

It was the least I could do for sending them out there to begin with. 

I gathered up the report the First Commander gave me. It had tallies on who got killed and wounded, as well as how many bodies they recovered. There were many that would never make it home even in a box. It was sickening to hear how a group of troops were killed and their corpses dragged into enemy territory to be eaten. We were nothing more than food to those monsters. 

After putting that report in my storage, I went and walked off to one of the medical bays. 

It was crowded, as it always was these days. I put on my mask to dampen the scent of iron and shit before walking through, eyes peeled. 

I had gotten reports on some new injuries, new causes of death. No longer were people only coming in with trauma. 

Instead, almost half of the patients here either had horribly infected wounds or were suffering from some kind of disease. 

A new disease that I hadn’t seen or heard of before. It seemed to cause some kind of necrosis, the flesh around the wounds turning black and infected. The worst ones also caused black blisters to form on top of the skin. It caused the entire medical bay to smell horrible. 

My first thought was gangrene. However, it had already become clear to me that normal sicknesses and diseases didn’t work on magical humans, especially knights. In this medical bay though, knights were the majority of the population. It was affecting them as it would any other ordinary human, and that made me think that even if this was gangrene, it was boosted by magic. That made it extremely dangerous. 

I refused to even enter this medical bay at first, simply looking from afar. However, after some watching, I noticed that none of the medical staff caught anything from the patients. It was probably only bloodborne, which was reassuring. 

Eventually I would walk through the place while holding my breath, my trips brief. Then I started observing more closely and talking to the staff, this mask doing a good job of filtering the air, the whole reason I got it in the first place. 

However, it wasn’t perfect. The fact that I could smell anything at all through it meant that it wasn’t perfectly scrubbing the air. Stuff was still getting through, which meant that if something really did get airborne, I’d need better precautions. Thankfully I had some. 

Either way, this was a new magical disease that was affecting almost every wounded soldier. More wounded were coming in with infections than without. I wanted to know what was causing that. 

I also had a feeling that the odor in the air had something to do with it. The entire base, even the lands around it were filled with a stench. Normally it would only be smelt when one was out in the badlands like I was during the infiltration, but now it had reached us. 

I was pretty sure that the Scourge was really trying to spread that fungus and those Gut Root trees. They were corrupting the land, turning it into a biological wasteland, and by extension their territory. 

Even if we won this war, the lands wouldn’t heal for ages. Just the fungus was an ecological disaster, not to mention everything else they were spreading. 

However, there seemed to be more to this now.

After getting a good look at the med bay, I retreated to headquarters where I found the office Polly, Jasmine, and I used. 

In it was our own map, and on it I had drawn out the ever progressing line of red fungus. New missions to burn back that fungus had started a month ago, but it was slow. The fungus didn’t burn that easily and seemed to grow faster than we could get rid of it. The top brass also didn’t care that much, so not much effort was given. It was moreso to keep troops busy, a sidejob that meant little, only there because I had given the suggestion. 

Looking at the map, I started going through past reports. I quickly recalled their contents as I glimpsed through them before matching the mission areas and the sections on wounded. 

I grabbed my Orb and started logging numbers and locations, churning out percentages and rates. 

After about an hour, I had a conclusion. 

The vast majority who had gotten infected were wounded on top of the fungus. Those who didn’t fight atop the fungus almost never had infections, those who did within the margin of error. 

And there was my answer. The fugus was somehow distributing this disease into the wounds of the soldiers who fought atop it. I didn’t know if it was through contact or not, but the results were undeniable. 

This would increase mortality rates significantly if not dealt with. With that in mind, I called up Polly and Jasmine, calling an urgent meeting. 

Once they arrived, I presented my findings. The two women too the information in stride and nodded at the end. 

“Makes sense. This is dangerous.”

“I’ve heard from the healers that a majority of those who get infected are dying. The only ones that have survived are those who are getting amputations early enough. Limbs are starting to fly since normal healing doesn’t work on the infection.”

The two gave their input. I wasn’t the only one looking into this. It had probably already been brought to the attention of the Generals. 

Now though, it was time to formalize it. 

Polly chimed. 

“Let’s draw up a report. I’ll hand it off to Quill.”

“I already have most of the data here. You can reformat it.”

“Oh, thanks.”

Polly took the Orb, going through its data before scribbling down the report in a more formal and elaborate manner. 

Once that was done, she left, Jasmine and I lingering in the office. 

“What do you think of this?”

She asked as I stared at the map. My opinion was being asked a lot of recently, and unfortunately, I was right more often than not. Usually that meant bad things to come. 

I scratched my head. 

“It’s a magical disease that they’ve specially formulated.”

“Really? That would mean they can develop that stuff.”

“Indeed. The only other thing I can think of is that the fungus is rotting and infecting them because of that. I’m not sure about that though. I’m more inclined to believe that this is a weapon of theirs. I mean, think about it. 

I reached out to a nearby board and started using Psyka to draw on it, numbers and diagrams appearing under my finger. 

“Our normal mortality rate for wounded is around 15%. Of the surviving 85%, 90% are able to return to duty. However, with this infection, that number is cut down massively. All the infected are either dying or getting amputations. Even if we can reduce deaths to zero, almost everyone who gets infected will lose a limb, which means they’re dead weight unless they can get the limb regrown. We don’t have the healing capacity for that.”

“So even though the mortality rate may not necessarily rise, soldiers will still be rendered combat incapable. In the end, we’re actually losing a lot more of our combat force with every battle.”

“Yeah.”

I nodded and drew some more numbers. 

“If we take the general rates as I’ve seen them, consider all amputees as dead, and assume that only bleeding wounds get infected, then wounded mortality rates will rise to around… 68%.”

Over half of all troops who even get hurt will be incapacitated. Casualty rates per battle are sitting around, what, 24%?”

“We’re losing around 16% of every force we send out to battle.”

I stopped and looked at the number for a few seconds before turning back to Jasmine. I had detailed this in my little report that Polly had gone through. 

Jasmine hadn’t seen it, so she was as shocked as I was when I first calculated that number. 

It was massive. 

With how often battles were being fought, we couldn’t afford a 16% mortality rate. That was 160 deaths for every thousand people we sent out to fight, and that was being conservative since the situation would only get worse as time went on. 

Of course, those weren’t all deaths. But being amputated wasn’t any different from dying. It was another number that couldn’t fight, and so from a strategic perspective, was no different from a death. It was another soldier that couldn’t be used, one that had to get sent to the rear. 

That wasn’t to mention the fact that this infection was affecting everyone. The strongest person I had seen infected was an Authority 8, and I’d bet that Authority 9s would get infected all the same. Maybe not Authority 10s, but I didn’t know enough about that level of power to guess. 

Not all casualties were equal in this world, which meant declines in combat power would be even steeper than 16% rates. 

And if I considered the fact that the Scourge could possibly weaponize biological agents…

None of this left a good feeling in my stomach. We needed to develop new plans for combating this issue. 

That meant a lot of reports, shifts in policies, more briefings…

I was in for another major workload, especially if I was as capable of helping as I was thinking I was. 

I sighed. 

“Ready to get busy again?”

“...I don’t wanna.”

“I don’t either…”

Both of us massaged our faces. Then, Jasmine mumbled.

“We still haven’t heard back from the Chiefs, have we?”

“...No.”

My mood fell even more. 

The Chiefs, the Doves that we had sent behind enemy lines. They shouldn’t have been over there for so long. It had been well around 5 months and they could’ve returned at any point during the last 3. 

The fact that they hadn’t meant that, most likely, they had been killed. 

“...I hope I didn’t end up killing another one of my squads… But they should’ve been completely prepared…”

“You did everything you could, John.”

Jasmine cut in. 

“You couldn’t have prepared them any more than you did for that mission. Everything after that was up to them. You can’t blame yourself for what might’ve happened.”

“...It sounds like an excuse.”

“I know.”

She stood and reached over, rubbing my back a bit. 

“Unfortunately it comes with the job. We can only sit behind these walls and wait, hoping we didn’t send out our soldiers for the last time… But it needs to be done. You know the kind of enemy we’re fighting. And you know that somebody has to send them out. At least you care enough to worry. That’s more than I can say for many others in your position.”

“...The only difference is that I can do more.”

“...”

She didn’t respond, because she knew I was right. I was in a unique position of danger every time I did battle, but I was more than capable of fighting. I was no stranger to it and there was no reason why I shouldn’t also be out there. 

I wanted to go on that mission in the first place. I didn’t like letting jobs that I could do get put on other people’s shoulders. I couldn’t ask someone to do something that I wouldn’t do myself. That’s how I approached every mission I created. 

I tightened my body before standing, walking out with Jasmine.

……

Polly’s report on the infection and mortality rates was received well. That meant they were paying attention to this issue and would do something about it knowing it was a significant enough problem to warrant sweeping changes. 

If left uninhibited, the entire base would soon be riddled with infected persons. Disregarding the potential danger to the uninfected, the mortality rates were high and if left alone, our forces would be decimated. We didn’t have the numbers to sustain those death rates. 

So multiple emergency meetings were called in order to brainstorm solutions. 

Healers were brought in and interviewed. Once we got their input, they were let go with the task to run tests and experiments. The Generals wanted to conquer the disease, which meant a bit of alchemy and voodoo magic. I didn’t know how the hell healers did what they did but I’d trust that they were semi-competent. 

On the other hand, the only reliable plans that could be put into motion were preventative. In that arena, I actually had a lot of useful input. 

I didn’t hold back a lot of my knowledge because this was my life on the line too. 

Biological contamination was something Earth was no stranger to. I called upon this knowledge to draw up a whole list of policies to mitigate the chances of infections in a variety of circumstances. 

From changes to apparel, to the protocols used by healers, I thought of everything I could in order to provide the common soldier a better chance of remaining uninfected should they get wounded. That meant sealing, sterilizing, or isolating the wound as soon as possible while putting off treatment until they were outside the fungal area. Even something as simple as covering the wound with cloth would help. Anything to prevent the wound from coming into contact with either the fungus or possible contaminants that it emitted into the atmosphere. 

I likened this infection to a parasitical disease so that the others could understand. If they thought that the fungus was basically attempting to burrow into them anytime wounds got close, then they would understand the need for isolation. 

And I wasn’t disregarded. Although I was a low rank and nobody knew where I got this information from, it wasn’t like they were stupid either. What I posited was rather simple and logical, and nothing nearly as expensive as the experiments needed to develop cures or antidotes for the infection. 

Because what I was saying wasn’t so outlandish, they also didn’t have any issues considering the need for decontamination and medical isolation. We had to consider the fact that anything that went over the fungus was carrying the disease, and so everything from vehicles to the armor soldiers wore would carry those contaminants and needed to be washed every time they wanted to enter the base from the outside. 

How thorough the wash would be remained to be seen, but it wasn’t like I could properly determine that anyway. I didn’t have chemicals nor devices to measure contamination and effectiveness of different kinds of decontamination, so there was no way for me to mitigate that issue beyond my suggestions. Still, even a simple spray down with water might make the difference, and they had no issues with a cheap and possibly effective solution. 

Of course, it all had to be put into formal writing, and since it was my idea, I was given that job. 

More reports, more meetings. That was my life now, it seemed, and unfortunately I was competent, which meant none of it would end anytime soon. 

I just got to work. 

Within the week my reports and protocols were developed. I detailed not only the protocols themselves but how to implement them and who to brief with what information in order to get it going. I detailed every plan for base wide decontamination, biohazardous personnel and material handling, and improved field medicine. By the end of it all, because I had written so much, I formatted it into a book. 

It contained almost everything necessary to deal with biological and chemical hazards on the personal and strategic levels, at least as it pertained to this world. This was far from a CBRN handbook. 

Still, it was organized and easy for people to understand. Once it was done, I handed it off to Major General Quill. 

I didn’t hear from him for a couple days after that. When he did finally come talk to us again though, orders were given to implement just about all the suggestions I gave. 

I was also ordered to teach everything in my book to every First Commander, Chief, and Brigadier on base. On top of that, I heard it was sent up to the brass beyond the base. 

Well, I didn’t mind whatever they did with that information. I was just glad that they were actually doing something about the issue. 

Still meant more work for me. 

From then on I was swamped. Hour after hour, I filled briefing rooms with First Commanders, Majors, Chiefs, Lieutenant Colonels, and Colonels. Everyone who led anything more than 500 people came to me for education. Thankfully the summoners were easy to teach. The others took a bit more time, and most had to come back or ask me questions. 

It felt like I was teaching damn near everyone. I tried to do my best to get the other intelligence agents to help, but most weaseled their way out of more work. They were damn good at that, a skill I should probably learn more of as well. 

Unfortunately, the demand for my protocols only increased, because the disease only got worse over time. 

More and more people were either dying or getting amputations because of it. It was hitting just as hard as we predicted it would, and so the Generals, understanding that this could turn the tide of the war, started implementing every change they could. 

Not just using my suggestions either. Their attacks went on the defensive. Less people were sent out to fight. They wanted to keep as many people as possible from getting hurt, hold back the Scourge and lose the least trying to do it, and the soldiers had no issues with that. The only issue was that combat effectiveness went down significantly. Everyone was scared of getting infected, and the Generals were just buying time until prevention measures could be rendered effective. 

Thankfully, my efforts weren’t for nothing. After another week or so, infection rates went down. The healers had some successes, and when paired with my prevention measures, mortality rates dropped back down to manageable levels. Combat effectiveness didn’t necessarily rise back up with it but that wasn’t my issue to fix. 

I did more than enough. It was up to the Generals to make their decisions and moves. 

Unfortunately, it wasn’t like the Scourge would wait for them. 

On one day near the end of April, I looked up at the sky, and found a bird.