When the coalition forces returned to Blackhammer Castle, the butler Muros came out of the castle to greet the team. After seeing the hundreds of wounded in the team, the old butler felt extremely heavy.
He couldn't imagine what happened on the front line. The injuries of these wounded were very serious. Most of them were seriously injured. They were either bitten beyond recognition by direwolves and lay on stretchers waiting to die. Or they had their arms and legs chopped off by sharp axes, but they still came back alive.
They were lucky enough. Some of them had big holes in their bodies, making it difficult to even eat food. Fortunately, Black Hammer Fort is located in the north and the temperature is lower. Otherwise, these soldiers would have died of wound infection long ago.
Muros knew that doctors could do nothing for such a serious injury. But as Rhodes's housekeeper, he still arranged for doctors and priests to provide treatment as soon as possible.
Doctors provide substantive treatment and can cut blood, while priests mostly only provide spiritual comfort and heal the wounds caused by the war.
"We ambushed the Norscan tribe's army on the front line, but they were too numerous. After killing nearly half of the tribe's warriors, they began to counterattack. Lord Rhodes led us to resist tenaciously, and finally waited until the Trolls came.
Township Rangers.”
Lawrence told a long story about the fierce battle a few days ago. The ambush tactic proved to be correct, but the bloodthirsty cruelty of Khorne's followers was something that Rhodes had not anticipated in advance. Once they entered the killing state, they forgot
Without fear...otherwise, half of any army would have been killed or injured and would have completely fled.
"Carry all the wounded to the castle, and I will arrange for doctors to treat them."
Muros sighed, his heart was heavy because the number of wounded was too many.
"I'm afraid many people no longer need treatment."
Lawrence said pessimistically.
The sadness on his face was like a dark cloud above his head, too thick to be removed. And Muros also understood what he meant. The reason why many people carried them back was not to heal them, but to let them go home and bury them. Those injuries
In serious cases, they cannot live for more than a few days. And for those who are missing arms and legs, no matter how good the doctor is, they cannot replace the broken arms and legs.
For two days, the infirmary of Blackhammer Castle echoed with the screams of the wounded and the strong smell of blood. More than a dozen people died one after another in one night.
…
"Ma'am, please stay. This is where the seriously injured are concentrated. I'm afraid it's not appropriate for you to go in."
In the early morning, several mysterious cultists came to the infirmary of Blackhammer Castle. They were wearing pure white robes and dark blue cloaks on their shoulders. Judging from their fair skin and angular faces, it could be confirmed that they were a group of
The northerners and guards prevented them from entering the seriously injured area. It can be said that the wounded inside are just waiting to die. Whether they can survive or not depends on God's decision.
"Why is it inappropriate?"
The leading priestess asked. Her voice was calm and without any emotion at all.
"Because this is only a place where doctors can enter and exit. The people inside are all seriously injured patients. If outsiders come in, it will not help the injured. Please understand."
The guard replied politely. This is the guard directly under Rhodes, and its quality is quite good. Of course, the young ladies in front of them clearly belong to the clergy at first glance, and they do not dare to look down upon them.
"We are not outsiders. On the contrary, we are here to treat these injured people. Believe us, this is our main job."
The silver-haired priestess spoke. She walked up to the guard, revealing a pair of beautiful blue eyes.
A peaceful aura emanated from the priestesses. Although they did not say much, the guards instinctively felt that the priests were not ordinary people. At least they were not people with evil intentions. But because of their job, they still had to
Report to superiors.
Muros quickly got the news and came down from the office.
Until the old housekeeper walked in front of them, the three priestesses were still waiting in place. They were so peaceful and elegant. It seemed that just one look could make people feel at ease and calm.
With the mentality of treating a dead horse as a live doctor, Muros allowed them to enter the infirmary. It was a small room with about twenty or thirty beds, half of which was already empty.
"Thirteen soldiers left last night."
Muros said tactfully. He saw several priestesses squatting gently in front of a seriously injured person, their eyes full of pity and love.
A strange feeling swept through Muros' body, and he instinctively felt that he was right to let them in. The doctor on the side had dissatisfaction on his face, indicating that these were his patients and asked these women of unknown origin to go away. However,
Muros ignored the doctor's dissatisfaction. Since he failed to cure the wounded, he let these priests try. After all, in Kislev, it was not that no one was cured by priests.
"May Goddess Sarlac bless you."
The leading woman in white lay down and whispered in the wounded man's ear. He was a soldier who had been severely injured in the abdomen. He had not eaten much for several days. On the battlefield, his intestines were taken out by the enemy and again by his comrades.
He stuffed it back, covered the wound and withdrew from the battlefield, saving his life. After the war, the field doctor helped him simply sew up the wound. However, when he came back, the wound became inflamed and he could not eat normally. He lay dying on the bed, waiting for death.
Arrive.
The priestess put her hand on his forehead, feeling his body temperature, and then put her head close to his chest, feeling his heartbeat.
"He was in a coma when he was brought in. He was just a little better this morning..."
Shhh…
Muros was explaining, but was stopped by a gentle gesture from the priestess.
Immediately, the priestess took out a crystal clear blue water bottle from her arms, "What are you going to do?" Muros asked nervously.
"Begging mother to heal him."
The priestess replied calmly. Without any unnecessary nonsense, she poured the water from the bottle onto the wounded, like a ritual. The colorless and odorless spring water poured on the young soldier, and it was all cold.
Then, the priestesses stretched out their right hands, caressed the wounded, and recited mysterious prayers.
Even though he has lived for most of his life, Muros is certain that he has never heard such a prayer. He is a little worried, but this prayer is very peaceful, like the water of a holy spring flowing between the mountains, like the spring breeze blowing through the cold winter.
earth.
Gradually, a faint white light swept over the wounded man's body.
It was so weak, but everyone saw it. The next scene was even more magical. After a long prayer, the deep wound on the wounded man's abdomen began to heal at a speed visible to the naked eye. There was no blood stain, and there was no cry of pain.
There is only peace, calm as water under the chant.
The expression on the soldier's face gradually relaxed, as if an invisible force was filling his body, allowing him to return to a healthy body.
The miracle in front of them surprised everyone. Muros's eyes widened and he couldn't believe this scene. He had never seen such a miracle in his life. In this barbaric and bloody era, the only way to treat seriously injured people was
It was surgery. The doctor said he was a doctor, but in reality he was a tailor. Where there were wounds, he would mend them. If the legs, feet, and arms were infected, he would cut off the arms and legs. This was the first time he had seen the wounded healed by prayer like today.
While amazed, Muros curiously asked about the origins of several priestesses.
"Where are you from?"
he asked.
"It's not important. We are just humble servants. It was the goddess Sarak who healed him."
The leading priestess answered calmly.
She looked at the wounded man, who was already sleeping peacefully.
"The bandage can be removed. His injury has healed. Pay attention to nutritional supplements and rest, and he will recover as before in a few days."
"Can you treat anyone else? Everyone here needs treatment."
Muros asked excitedly.
"I don't know, this is the decision of Goddess Sarak. We are only responsible for delivering her oracle."
The priestess nodded, indicating that the decision-making power no longer rested with her, she was just a servant of God...
In the next few days, the three mysterious priestesses stayed in the infirmary. During this period, they miraculously healed five more seriously wounded people and eight lightly wounded people. For a time, the news that the Goddess of Mercy came to Blackhammer Castle spread throughout the world.
The whole town.
In his office, Muros wrote the important letter sent to the north. He wanted to tell Rhodes and his lord that he had discovered the Priestess Group, which were extremely rare priests who could heal the wounded.
, to lift the plague. On the battlefield, the reason why people are afraid of advancing is mostly because they are afraid of casualties. If there is such a team that can specially treat the seriously injured, then the morale and courage of the soldiers will undoubtedly be greatly increased.