Iron Powder and Spellcasters Chapter 209

   Chapter 209 Finale (continued)

  For soldiers, the most tragic thing is failure, and the next worst thing after failure is victory.

   If someone doesn't believe this, just take him to the wounded barracks.

   In order not to affect the morale of the wounded, the medical post of the Palatine army was located in the most remote corner of the camp.

   Late at night, in a half-open military tent.

   Several surgeons rolled up their sleeves like butchers and were busy in front of the operating table.

   They use more hacksaws and soldering irons than sharp scalpels and delicate tweezers.

  The screams of the wounded soldiers were incessant, and the listeners were all horrified.

   Amputated arms and legs were piled up outside the tent, and some of them also had fragments of military uniforms.

   It was dark at night, and some people stepped on it accidentally, thinking that they were stepping on the wood waste thrown around.

The    infirmary looked like a slaughterhouse, and everyone who saw it for the first time couldn't help but want to vomit.

   And the medics and their assistants walked around in the **** mud, apparently getting used to it.

   Please don't blame them, they have provided medical treatment far beyond any military of their time.

  The sound of gunfire came from not far away, and it was the barbarians attacking the camp wall on the south side.

  The Platoons raided the fortress, and the barbarians would fight back.

  The battle is not over, and even though the medical center is overloaded, more and more wounded soldiers are crying and waiting for treatment.

   "Kaman!" Winters, covered in blood, broke into the infirmary and searched around frantically: "Doctor! Priest Kaman!"

   A team that seemed to have returned from **** followed behind the centurion. The lightly wounded carried the heavily wounded, and almost no one was uninjured.

   Inside the tent in the corner of the medical center, Kaman is undergoing surgery.

   His face was pale and tired, and apart from the holy emblem hanging on his chest, there was no trace of a priest.

   The left tibia of the wounded soldier lying on the operating table was shattered by blunt instruments and had to be amputated.

   "What's going on outside?"

   Hearing the commotion outside the tent, Kaman asked without raising his head, but the movements of his hands did not stop for a moment.

   A sharp scalpel cuts through the skin, fat and tendons until the white bones are exposed.

   His assistant held a red-hot iron to stop the bleeding from time to time.

  The other three strong assistants held the wounded man drinking strong so that he could not struggle and move.

   Speed ​​is life, and the sooner the amputation is completed, the greater the chance of survival for the injured.

   "It's the Montagne centurion!" exclaimed another of Kaman's assistants.

   "Send the rest of the wounded to other doctors! Immediately!" Kaman dropped the scalpel, grabbed the hacksaw, and started sawing the tibia.

   His hands were steady, and he sawed off the tibia and fibula in a dozen rounds. The assistant stopped the bleeding with a soldering iron in time, and took over the suture work tacitly.

   It took less than three minutes to cut the skin with a scalpel to the completion of the amputation.

   "Here!" Kaman stepped out of the tent, waving and shouting: "Mr. Montagne! Here!"

   Seeing familiar faces being carried into the infirmary one by one, Kaman's face became even paler.

  Kaman asked Winters bluntly: "Where is Mr. Mitchell?"

   "In the back." Winters' eyes were sour: "I got an arrow in the neck, it's about to die."

  He watched as Pierre, who had opened the way for the entire team, was shot down by stray arrows, and Anglo, Bell and Wasika desperately grabbed their partners.

   But he couldn't stop because he was holding the flag and everyone was looking at him.

  Jesska's brigade pierced through the enemy with a burst of air and returned to the main camp.

   "Send Mr. Mitchell to the operating table!" Kaman asked Winters again: "How are you?"

   "I'm fine." Winters' face was hidden under the iron helmet, because he didn't want others to see the tears: "But..."

   "It's okay." Kaman said softly, "Leave it to me."

   "Don't saw my arm! No!" Andre shouted desperately: "Who dares to do it... I'll kill you!"

  The soldiers held his limbs tightly, for fear that Second Lieutenant Cellini's wound would burst again.

  Andre tried desperately to break free, but because of excessive blood loss, he had no strength left.

  Andre's consciousness gradually blurred, he cried and begged: "Don't let them saw my arm... Winters... Don't let them..."

  Andre's voice became weaker and weaker, and soon he fell into a coma again, and the excitement just now was just a flashback.

   Winters' heart was aching like a knife, and he could barely stand still, listening to the doctor's words like a walking corpse.

   The chief medic told Winters: "Lieutenant Cellini's wound cannot be sutured and must be amputated as soon as possible. Otherwise, Lieutenant Cellini will be in danger."

   Chief Medic also told Winters: "The buckshot fragments can't be removed, and Lieutenant Colonel Jesska's right eye also needs to be removed."

   Winters came to Lieutenant Colonel Jesska's bedside, overwhelmed by the endless grief and powerlessness.

   "Is that you?" Lieutenant Colonel Jessica stretched out his hand and groped into the darkness: "Second Lieutenant Montagne?"

   Winters clung to Lieutenant Colonel Jesska's hand, tears welling up in his eyes: "Lieutenant Colonel, it's me."

   "Don't cry, Winters." Lieutenant Colonel Jesska, who usually had a straight face, was now completely relaxed.

   His expression was peaceful and calm, as if he did not feel sorry for himself at all: "If the earthen pot is not broken away from the well, the general will inevitably die before the battle. Isn't this a common thing?"

   It was quiet in the tent, only soft sobbing could be heard.

   "Do you have any alcohol on you?" Lieutenant Colonel Jesska asked softly.

   Winters had no habit of drinking, but he couldn't bear to say "no". He suddenly remembered the jug that Arpad had given him, which he had always carried with him.

   Winters immediately pulled out the jug and placed it in Lieutenant Colonel Jesska's hand.

   "Oh, it's this jug." Lieutenant Colonel Jesska felt the shape of the jug, unscrewed the lid, and took a small sip.

   Then he fumbled and took out a chintz bag from his arms: "I have a present for you, Winters."

   "No, I can't have it." At this moment, Winters couldn't accept the gift from the lieutenant colonel.

   "You open it first." Lieutenant Colonel Jesska seemed to be smiling.

  The inside of the twill bag is an oilcloth bag, and the inside of the oilcloth bag is a map, many, many maps. Lieutenant Colonel Jesska painted everything from the Great Wilderness to Palatu.

"I don't need this stuff anymore, it'll be yours in the future. Don't throw away the ability to do homework on the map, it will be of great use." Lieutenant Colonel Jesska lay calmly on the military couch, as if he had a mind on his mind: "Let's go. Well, let me rest for a while."

  Kaman found Winters in an unoccupied corner of the medical center: "Lieutenant Cellini wants to amputate?"

After    wiped away his tears, Winters turned around: "Yes."

   "Take me to see him."

   The officers and soldiers' medical clinics are not in the same place. Kaman was in the soldiers' medical clinic before, while Lieutenant Colonel Jesska and Andre were both in the officers' medical clinic.

   Winters took Kaman into the surgical tent, and Andre had been carried on the operating table and was about to have an operation.

  Kaman ignored the surprised eyes of others and went straight to Andre to check the wound

   "Second Lieutenant Montagne, what are you doing?" the chief military doctor asked in dissatisfaction.

   The chief military doctor has no military rank, and his status is equal to that of the school officer, far more noble than the centurion

   Winters stood in front of the chief medic without saying a word, and he didn't know what Kaman was going to do.

   "Don't let them saw off my arm," Andre's desperate plea echoed in his ears.

  If Andre was really going to be amputated, Winters would rather be Kaman.

   "Get out! I'm going to have surgery!"

   Winters didn't move.

   "Do you want to kill Lieutenant Cellini?" the chief medic snapped.

  Kaman suddenly said, "Take it to me!"

   Winters nodded, and another four fierce warriors broke in, raised the operating table and walked outside the tent.

   No one dares to stop him.

  Andre was carried back to Kaman's surgical tent, his vital signs were getting weaker and weaker.

   Confused Andrei was still muttering and begging: "Don't saw...don't saw my arm..."

  Kaman lowered the drapes, closed the windows, and drove everyone away—including his medical assistant.

   Apart from him and Andre, only Winters was left in the tent as an assistant.

   "More lights!" Kaman said

   Winters activated the fire spell, igniting all the oil lamps in the tent.

  Kaman held out an unremarkable black wooden box.

  Open the wooden box, a set of silver surgical instruments gleams in the light.

   This set of instruments is extremely delicate, even more delicate than the set of bloodletting instruments that Winters saw in the dungeon of Seablue City. There are twelve sizes of tweezers alone.

  Kaman chose one of the tweezers: "Light me up!"

   Winters held up an oil lamp to illuminate Andre's wound for Kaman.

  Kaman narrowed his eyes and began to use tweezers to pick pieces of lead from Andre's wound.

   "Not bright enough! More oil lamps!" Kaman's tone was beyond doubt.

   Winters picked up another oil lamp.

   "Still not bright enough!"

   Winters put down the oil lamp, took out the casting materials, and activated the light spell without reservation.

  The dazzling white light instantly filled the military tent, even to the point of dazzling.

   "That's it! Keep it up!"

  Kaman moved quickly and took out the lead fragments from the horrific wound on Andre's right arm one by one.

   This is an extremely delicate job, like carving a walnut.

   Some of the pieces are so small that they are not as big as a grain of wheat. Some pieces are embedded in the meat, and the skin needs to be cut open to remove them.

  Kaman put the removed fragments on a plate, roughly pieced together into the shape of a lead, only partially missing.

   After checking three times in a row, Kaman confirmed that there was no remaining shrapnel in the wound.

   "No more." Kaman said to himself: "The defect of the lead bullet in the disk should be the part that smashed when it penetrated the arm armor, and did not shoot into Mr. Cellini's arm."

   Winters is nearing the limit of his spellcasting.

The consumption of    Brightness is not particularly large, provided that the caster controls the magic output power. If it is an unreserved urging, no spell can last for too long.

   Hearing Kaman's words, Winters suddenly relaxed, and the light in his hand instantly dimmed by three points.

   "Hold on! It's not over yet!" Kaman shouted.

   Winters gritted his teeth, pushing himself to the tipping point again.

   Winters seemed to be thrown into the crater one second, and the ice cellar the next, the phantom pain causing his body to sway uncontrollably.

   The light in his hand became brighter than before—even hotter.

   It's not that Winters' ability is in danger to break through the limit, but that he has no way to stably control the output of magic power, and can only push it hard.

  With this destined short-lived light, Kaman quickly removed the dead flesh, rotten flesh and scabbed flesh from Andre's wound.

The    scalpel becomes a fine carving knife, and Kaman shaves the dead parts, preserves the intact parts, and rearranges and grooms the muscles.

   "I can't take it anymore!" Winters yelled.

   "Okay!" Kaman also yelled.

   Winters' eyes were black and he fell straight.

   In a trance, he heard Kaman chanting: "[Ancient saying] My lord, forgive our sins, don't let us fall into the fire of hell..."

   Winters struggled to get up and walked to the operating table.

   He saw Kaman clutching the holy emblem tightly, reciting the scriptures in a trembling voice, his face pale.

   He saw Andre's wounds heal at a speed visible to the naked eye, the muscles that had been beaten by the lead sprout and the broken skin gradually closed.

   "I understand it all, no wonder you know medicine, no wonder you know surgery." Winters' cranial cavity was buzzing: "You... you are a magic user!"

  Kaman looked extremely tired. He wrapped Andre's wound with a **** gauze: "Did I say I wasn't?"

   The magician that Winters had been dreaming about was hidden by his side. After getting along for so long, he didn't notice it at all.

  Andre's broken muscles and skin grew back together, and only the dark red congestion could be seen under the cortex.

   is somewhat different from the magic that the old shaman [Hestas] showed to Winters on Red Iwo.

   Winters' wound healed to a red line. After the scab has faded once, the red line has completely disappeared, and there is no trauma at all.

  Andre's wound was very irregular, like a large drop of red ink splattered on the skin, leaving a group of radial marks.

   "Then you...you..." Winters trembled and asked.

   He wanted to ask "Why didn't you identify yourself and help?"

   He also wanted to ask, "Do you know how many people the magic user can save?"

   But he couldn't ask, his conscience told him: Kaman has saved many people.

   Even if Kaman did not reveal the identity of the user of magic, he has saved countless lives.

   He can understand Kaman, how many people can a magic user drain himself and save? What will the people who are not getting treatment think?

  As it is now, does Kaman get resentment or gratitude?

   "Do you want to tell them?" Kaman asked indifferently: "Tell them I could save their lives, but I don't care."

   Winters lowered his head and was silent for a while: "No one can save everyone."

   "Only the Lord can save all people." Kaman bowed.

   "Thank you, I owe you once."

   "You don't owe me anything, Mr. Montagne." Kaman slowly opened the curtain: "I didn't come here for you, you don't owe me anything."

"thanks."

   "Mr. Cellini is not out of danger yet, and magic can't bring him back to life. If his fever goes down, he will live; if he doesn't, he will die. You go, I will take care of him."

   Winters had countless questions in his heart, he wanted to ask Kaman: Why did you come to Wolf Town? Why join the army with us.

   But seeing Kaman's tired eyes, he couldn't ask.

   He wanted to leave, but suddenly remembered Lieutenant Colonel Jesska, and a ray of hope ignited in his heart: "Divine magic, can it heal the eyes?"

   "I haven't tried it."

  Lieutenant Colonel Jesska was taken into Kaman's surgical tent.

  Kaman put down the scalpel and took Winters outside the tent: "No...I can't get the buckshot in the eye out."

   Winters slammed his fist on the wooden fence.

   "Is it possible to completely remove the eyeballs and 'recreate' them with divine magic?" Winters asked in a low voice.

   "Stop exploring..." Kaman answered with difficulty: "Divine... Divine magic cannot 'cure' such a complex organ as the eyes."

"why?"

  Kaman averted his gaze, almost pleading: "Stop asking..."

   Winters was extremely puzzled, but Kaman's words were sincere, and he couldn't bear to ask any more.

   "Is it only possible?" Winters was sad and angry, and nothing is more hopeless than the disappointment after hope.

  Kaman nodded heavily.

  Winters lowered his head and let out a painful sigh after a long time.

   A green helmeted messenger hurried over: "Sirs, where is Colonel Laszlo? Lieutenant Colonel Robert? Lieutenant Colonel Custer? And Lieutenant Colonel Jessica?"

   "What?!" Winters yelled at the messenger.

   Sudden Outburst The messenger was taken aback by the sudden outburst.

  The joys and sorrows of human beings are not the same. In his eyes, this blood-stained centurion is probably just a **** who loses his temper.

The    messenger stood at attention and said solemnly: "General Sackler summoned the four officers."

   Jesska couldn't go to see Sackler. Laszlo, Robert, and Custer couldn't either, because they also won.

   So Sackler came to the medical clinic in person.

   Winters was ineligible to attend, but was retained by Lieutenant Colonel Jesska.

   "This kid is very good." Lieutenant Colonel Jesska took Winters' arm: "He took my flag."

   to receive the flag, which in the Platonic language means alternation - a very serious tone.

  The command of the Jesska Brigade was officially transferred. According to custom, this unit should be called "Montagne Brigade" from now on.

   But no one at the scene cared about that, they had more pressing matters.

   "Gentlemen?" General Sackler glanced at each of his subordinates sharply: "What is the task I gave you?"

   Thank you book friends for reading, subscribing, recommending tickets, monthly tickets, tips and comments, thank you all.

   The next one...the finale of the finale, Kaman's appearance takes up too much space.

   Note: The foreshadowing that Father Kaman is a user of divine arts, as well as other foreshadowings, are in Volume 2, Chapter 34, "Departure".

   Because it's too long, so I'll paste that paragraph here: [The procession forms a neat two-way column, and Father Kaman presided over the departure blessing ceremony.

   After the ceremony, Kaman led two horses from the back of the church yard, one with a saddle and the other with a bag.

   "How can we do without a military priest?" the young priest asked with a smile.

   Brother Reid walked over from the crowd seeing off: "Brother Kaman, do you want to follow?"

   "I'm not worried if I don't follow." Kaman's tone seemed to beg for forgiveness.

   "Oh, you're gone, it's no use for me to stay here." Rhett sighed and said to the second lieutenant, "Boy, do you still need a scribe."

   Winters didn't talk nonsense: "I'll let Charles go and pack your bags for you."

   "What luggage do I have?" The old begging monk laughed loudly: "When I came, I only had the wind on my sleeves, and I naturally left with only the wind on my sleeves."]

   Kaman said "priest" at the beginning. It's just that Winters didn't understand the mystery. If you change a high-level inside the church, you can understand it as soon as you hear it.

   And Kaman easily saw through Winters' "magician" identity, which also shows that he has a certain degree of understanding of "magic" and "magic user".

   On the contrary, Winters was ignorant, a simple boy, and failed to perceive another identity of the other party.

   (end of this chapter)

Chapter end