“What do you mean, an utter failure?” Varegrave wasn’t jumping out of joy like the others, yet couldn’t understand why Lith was being so negative. It was the first time since the plague’s breakout that a patient had been cured.

“I saved her arm, yes, and maybe even her life, but only in the short term. It will just take a while for the parasites to invade the healthy arm, and then she will be back at square one.

My experiment had many goals, but I reached only one. I wanted to remove the worms safely, and it failed. And so did my attempt to collect the substance they release upon death, and even to nullify its effects.

It all happened too fast, I was able to save the arm only because it has no vital organ. Had the wound been in the chest or head, the patient would be dead. The only things I managed to accomplish was to collect the toxins, and I could have done that anyway, anytime, and restore the arm.

But as I said, all in all is a hollow victory. I need time to think.”

Despite every success Lith achieved brought him closer to gallows, Varegrave didn’t share his pessimism. Lith himself had predicted the experiment to be a failure, giving it a low chance of success.

The patient wasn’t dead, on the contrary, her conditions had improved. It was a small step, but a step forward nonetheless. After dismissing the medical team, reminding them to not use the new detoxifying spell without Lith’s permission, he went back to his tent to inform the Crown of the latest news.