When it comes to death, Eberron has indeed witnessed it with his own eyes.
A large number of deaths, the deaths of acquaintances, the deaths of comrades she had only met a few times, the deaths of strangers... She had witnessed all of these.
But to be honest, she didn't understand any philosophy from this death.
Death, just death, could not bring her sudden enlightenment.
She was just a little sad.
"Grand Duke Hanthorn...what do you want me to see?"
Muttering this sentence unconsciously again, Eberron picked up the medical kit in his hand and walked towards the next wounded person who needed treatment.
There were suppressed wails and moans in his ears, and Eberron subconsciously looked towards the distance.
Three beds away, a man with obvious half-orc ancestry was biting a blood-stained towel while receiving treatment from the medical staff.
No matter how strong a strong man is, it is difficult to maintain his image as a tough guy after losing half of his body. Not crying out in pain is his last act of stubbornness and resistance.
If it were in the past, Eberron would probably turn his head the first moment he saw the other person.
On the one hand, it is polite, and on the other hand, it is to maintain your own politeness - to prevent your nausea from becoming too obvious.
But now, now... Eberron just looked at him intently, then nodded slightly to the other person and turned around to leave.
There is nothing I can do to help the other person's injury. Even if he gets close to him, he is just adding to the chaos. In that case, don't get involved and continue to do what you should do.
"ha……"
As she started walking, Eberron finally sighed slightly. She knew how to describe her current state.
numbness.
I also know that this situation is wrong, but I don't have a good way to deal with it.
Ever since he returned to the base, Eberron has been in this state of numbness, confused and not knowing what to do.
Being able to take the initiative to apply to come to the field hospital on the front line of the first theater for assistance is already the greatest act of self-rescue that Eberron can make.
"...contamination?"
When Eberron returned to the base, she went to see Archduke Coldthorn, but she didn't find out anything.
The gloomy legend with a cold and arrogant image is still carrying out his "work", sewing up the bodies of the soldiers who died in battle, without any change.
Grand Duke Hanthorn didn't seem to care about her return, and he drove her out after the two looked at each other in silence for a while.
"If you are here, you will contaminate them...get out."
For such an unclear reason.
Without resisting or arguing with this seemingly malicious attitude, Eberron silently left the room, returning all the darkness and coldness to the Cold Thorn Archduke.
At that time, Eberron didn't quite understand the meaning of the other person's words, but she seems to understand it now.
"Saving numb people like me will make their sacrifice meaningless? Haha..."
It's really a cold and harsh statement, but it's very much like the style of the Cold Thorn Archduke.
Just when Eberron was laughing at himself, she heard a weak cough beside her.
"...Miss, are you laughing at my loss?"
Um?
His numb eyes lit up a little, and Eberron, who had regained some of his energy, turned to look at the wounded man who had just spoken.
"No, I didn't mean that, I just..."
Shaking his head without excitement or panic, Eberron explained to the man, but stopped as soon as he started.
"Uh! You, no, you... you are also a warrior, aren't you?"
The scene in front of him was really shocking, and Eberron's dull brain started to work, thinking about the authenticity of all this.
The other person was not an acquaintance of his, a relative or a friend. Eberron was sure that he did not know him.
The main problem arises from the appearance of the other party.
The gray and dry hair all over the body, as well as the fluctuations emanating from the other person's body, clearly told Eberron the identity of the other person.
A dog-headed orc, and an extremely old one at that, looking weak and fragile.
In stark contrast to the tall warrior on the bed next to him, the old dog... the old man really looked as thin as a domesticated dog.
The average lifespan of a kobold is longer than that of humans. Coupled with the influence of magic, a high-level kobold can theoretically have a lifespan of about five hundred years.
Of course, that's just theory. Most people have never even heard of the four-hundred-year-old dog-headed orc.
But perhaps due to his frailty, the old man in front of him may have given Eberron the feeling that he is older than those records.
Eberron didn't see any external injuries on the other person's body, but even without those wounds, he probably wouldn't live long.
He is really too old.
The whole person's body exuded a heavy twilight aura, and looked like a breathing corpse.
On such a battlefield, is there such an old man?
However, the other party's eyes were indeed exceptionally bright, and they seemed to be full of firm will.
Hearing Eberron's question, the old man smiled at him, showing a smile with only two or three teeth left.
"Of course! Old man, I used to be the most outstanding warrior of our clan. I don't know how many little mothers there were... Ahem, cough, cough, it's all over. Well, I won't show off in front of people of my generation."
Eberron:?
Although you didn't tell the whole story, you did show it off...
Shaking his head, Eberron adjusted his mood, sighed silently, and bowed his head slightly to the old man:
"...I didn't mean to laugh at you, I was just laughing at myself."
The old man moved his nose, as if he was examining Eberron's heart, but soon showed a kind smile:
"Oops, it seems I wrongly blamed you. I'm really sorry, little girl."
"No, it's nothing. I'll take my leave now."
Her lips moved slightly, and Eberron shook her head to show that she didn't care. But just when she was about to turn around and leave, she couldn't help but turn around and ask:
"Well, do you mind if I ask, what did you lose?"
No matter how Eberron looked at it, the other party didn't look like he had a broken limb. Didn't he notice it somewhere?
When he heard this question, the old man's mood suddenly became depressed, and he spoke decadently:
"Didn't notice? Isn't it obvious? I lost my most precious thing."
"If it's inconvenient, you don't have to answer me..."
Raising his hand, the old kobold showed his withered body like ribs, and then said with great sadness:
"What I lost..."
"It's my youth!"
The feelings are genuine and sincere, and the sorrow on his face is not false at all.