Day 217, 3725 Valanci.
I, Neral Bakov, swear on the name of the Sun God, I have never seen such a strange disease.
The condition of the sick crew members still showed no signs of improvement, and they kept coughing.
As a descendant of the Sun God, their cowardice is shameful and brings shame to their ancestors. I know this very well, so I am not afraid of death.
But I'm afraid of dying a pointless, honorless death.
Vada's death seemed to prove the rumors that this was a curse, and panic spread among the crew.
Before dying, Vada kept begging for water. Although he drank bowl after bowl of water, his thirst did not seem to be alleviated.
Almost as soon as he drank the water and took a few breaths, he cried out that he was thirsty again and continued to scratch everywhere.
Even though we poured precious water into his mouth without restraint, he still didn't survive.
His death state was horrific, with his eyeballs bulging out of his eyes and rolling to the ground, with black blood gurgling out.
One crew member said that he saw a dark shadow rising from Vada's body.
I don't believe this.
Before the fleet set sail, the high priest of the Sun God Cult personally baptized every ship in the fleet. I believe that the power of the Sun God will get rid of these evil spirits.
I firmly believe that this is just a disease.
Ship doctor Howard is searching for the cause, but his results are limited.
He made a request to me today to find out about Wada's body, but I didn't agree.
Because I have no right to prevent Vada from returning to the arms of the Sun God after death.
Vada's body dried up within a few hours, and he became a skinny and skeletal creature, curled up and unable to pull away.
His funeral was held on the foredeck, and the crew stood a few meters away and watched silently until the candlelight burned through the rope holding the feather ball.
The feather balloon carried Vada's huddled, withered body higher and higher, and the crew watched Vada leave.
An extremely discordant voice appeared among the crowd.
It was a sigh, coupled with a whisper of "The curse has been taken away by Vada."
I was furious and ordered the speaker to be found, who was tied to the mast by my first mate.
I know that the most important thing in this situation is to stabilize morale and wait for the ship's doctor Howard to find a cure for the strange disease.
Day 219, 3725 Valanci.
Another sick crew member was extremely thirsty.
He was extremely frightened, asking for water over and over again, and asking Howard if his time had come.
Howard was a compassionate man. He comforted the thirsty patients over and over again, claiming that he had done his best to treat them and only needed to wait for the condition to improve.
On the seventh day of reporting the situation on board, my lookout finally received the flag signal from the flagship.
A sun god priest accompanying the ship is about to board the ship to ward off the evil spirits of these sick crew members.
It was good news, and the crew finally showed a relaxed expression.
The only person who didn't feel relaxed was the ship's doctor Howard. He strongly requested that the dead crew members be autopsied to find the cause of the disease. Even though the deceased crew members had returned to the Sun God, the remaining crew members were still struggling.
I understood what he meant. It looked like young Fodo didn't have much time left.
But I was wrong. Fodo died much faster than I thought. He didn't even wait for the exorcism ceremony to be carried out with the ship.
The priest refused Howard's request to dissect the prosthetic body. He insisted on following etiquette and letting Fodo, who had also become withered and curled up, return to the embrace of the sun god in a complete state.
Day 221, year 3725 of the Valanian calendar.
The sacrificial ceremony did not stop the spread of the disease. Yesterday, another person fell ill, and today another person died.
The young crew member who became ill was named Donon. He was a spirited young man with short hair.
But when he was diagnosed by Howard, Donon, who had a nosebleed, completely lost his energy. He quickly lost his vitality like an eggplant beaten by frost.
Three hours later, Donon developed a fever, a symptom common to patients with strange illnesses.
Despite Howard's best efforts, he couldn't get Donon back to normal.
Donon began to plead, began to cry, and even refused to lie in the hospital bed. He refused to acknowledge Howard's diagnosis and that he was sick.
It took a week from the onset of fever to death, and Donon lost the battle to the disease at an early stage.
Donon, whose nosebleeds could not be stopped, was suffering from fever and his knees were sore and weak. It was difficult to say whether he jumped off the ship on his own or whether he had stumbled due to illness and weakness. But one thing was certain, he would never be able to return to the embrace of the Sun God.
Howard still insisted on conducting an autopsy. I said no one had died yet, but he said someone would definitely die tomorrow.
He said it very firmly.
I really wish he could be so confident in his medical skills.
I hid the matter, refused to report it, and quietly waited for the soul of the man who was about to be killed by death to return to the Sun Temple.
Day 222, year 3725 of the Valanian calendar.
I am convinced that this is not a disease, but a vicious curse.
Feynman's body was dissected in the bottom cabin. I did it myself. Howard, a doctor who had never killed anyone, could not do such a thing.
The reason why I am sure it is a curse is because when the knife was inserted into Feynman's chest, the touch felt extremely wrong.
I am a glorious warrior, and I have killed as many as eighty people if not a hundred. When I stab the chest, the knife will pass through the cavity. This process is like stabbing through the head of a drum. The feeling of blockage will be sudden. A light.
But there was no such feeling in Feynman's chest.
As I opened the ribcage, Howard and I both understood the strange reason.
In Feynman's chest, the originally empty lungs were now covered with strange pink granules. Even though Feynman had lost his life, these granules were still crawling.
Not only the chest cavity, but when the knife opened the abdominal cavity, the granulations also appeared. They twisted and squeezed Feynman's organs, like bald chicks occupying a magpie's nest.
Howard failed. Autopsy of the body was of no help in understanding the condition, and he was frustrated.
I couldn't persuade him because I knew that he was about to die because the nosebleed from his nose could not be stopped.
Day 227, year 3725, Valanci calendar.
I was on my third day of illness, and Howard asked for water, but there was no water on the boat.
The crew was dead, Howard and I were the last.
After the crew members learned that they were sick, they immediately jumped into the blue sea with crazy smiles without any hesitation.
We have lost track of the fleet, forever.
I was very lucky today. There was a lot of water collected in the dew collector. When I came to the cabin carrying a bowl and enduring the soreness caused by the high fever, I saw Howard sitting in the corner facing the wall.
At my call, he turned his head, and there was nothing in his eyes. They were two black holes bleeding with black blood.
He didn't drink water, he just asked me a question.
He asked me if I could see the squirming pink buds in his chest.
I looked down and saw that he had cut open his chest, and black blood and internal organs were scattered all over the floor.
