Chapter 83: The Military Camp

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The hospital adjacent to the military camp, originally established for soldiers wounded in battle, also regularly accepted the poor, homeless, and disabled. As for the source of the funds required—of course, it fell on taxation.

Salser followed Caren towards the tower where the city guard commander was stationed, passing through the hall, which also served as a resting place for the soldiers.

It was not long after dawn, the world still quiet and chilly, with few pedestrians on the streets they had just passed. However, beneath the gray-white ceiling of the hall, the temporary beds and stretchers in the rest area emitted a heavy stench, accompanied by the incessant moans of pain.

Here, lying in various positions, were children, the elderly, and adults, both male and female, some lightly injured and others on the brink of death. There were those with severe burns causing extensive skin damage, those blinded with barrel fragments embedded in their eyes, those whose limbs were severed due to explosions, those covered in blisters and sores from high temperatures, and those with swollen skin—a diverse array of suffering. Their faces bore deep pain and a helpless despair. Some attempted to take their own lives but were restrained by leather belts, unable to move.

A woman whose lower half was completely gone was wrapped in hastily prepared bandages, her body reeking of burnt flesh and equally strong disinfectant. A leather strap was gagged in her mouth, muffling her agonized screams. Several soldiers cautiously watched over her—as if she were not a patient, but a dangerous prisoner.

Near the commander's room, against the wall sat a young woman in tattered clothes. It was hard to discern her expression, perhaps just numbness. She hugged her bent legs, resting her chin on her knees, and slowly swayed from side to side, her morbid gaze fixed on a man covered in burns. She hummed a mournful little tune, softly:

"Why did the child die, yet you live on, why only Atu perished, and you did not burn with him."

Salser carefully stepped between the outstretched limbs of the patients. As he passed the woman, he noticed a soldier standing beside her, whispering to her not to act impulsively and do something foolish. These people all needed to be interrogated later, yet he did not escort her out—perhaps the subtle pity in the soldier's eyes was the reason for his actions.

Many hastily recruited doctors moved among the crowd. A young doctor, upon seeing Caren, respectfully expressed his reverence, showing great respect for the nun. Salser noticed that there was also a look of love and admiration in his eyes.

Ah, this young man is indeed pitiful.

Salser thought without any sympathy.

Every angel you yearn for, behind her back...

"Sister Hortensia... what brings you here?"

A steady voice interrupted Salser's rather dark thoughts.

In the few rays of morning light filtering through the window, sat a middle-aged man with bloodshot eyes, disheveled black hair, and a thick beard, his dark circles indicating he hadn't slept in over a day. He sat alone in the commander's room of the tower, reviewing intelligence gathered from interrogations of the soldiers, and instructing them to move the less severely injured patients into the tower to free up more space in the military camp's hospital.

"This is Commander Astro, who primarily handles affairs within the city," Caren did not answer the commander's question, but instead briefly introduced the man's identity to Salser.

"This is Salser, a knight serving under Inquisitor Jeanne, and he is currently under my supervision," Caren told Astor, "We are here for Jeanne..."

"Commander!" A burly soldier, his voice booming, interrupted Caren's words. This man, with broad-shoulders and bulky build, rushed over so hastily he almost collided with Salser. His face was filled with panic as he slammed his palm on the table like he was striking it with a sledgehammer: "That short man is dying! The temporally recruited doctors are just too inexperienced, they can't save his life!" 

"Though it pains us greatly, Sister Hortensia," Astro nodded to the soldier while deeply sighing, apologizing to Caren, "We are loathe to delay your time, but this man's life is crucial to our investigation. If he dies, it will complicate our subsequent work immensely." The commander glanced at Salser, noting that he showed no expression and no sign of opposition, "I will accept this gentleman's inquires, but could you please accompany Private Yahan to participate in the treatment?"

"I have no objections," Salser said.

Caren looked at the Dark wizard for a moment, then nodded lightly and followed the soldier away.

"Salser... I believe that's the name," the commander muttered, his gaze fixed on him, scrutinizing him from head to toe, "You are under Sister Hortensia's supervision?"

"Yes, due to some internal affairs of the Holy Cross Church."

Astro shook his head, "Alright, if it's your internal affairs, then it's none of my business. However, some of my young soldiers... they are bound to get jealous over this, so please go easy on them later."

"You don't seem to have much faith in them?" Salser couldn't help but smile.

He nodded, then sighed deeply:

"These hot-blooded young pups are at the age where their brains are being dictated by their lower half, Mr. Salser," the commander said, taking a sip of strong tea, continuing, "Many of them haven't even been to a battlefield. Just because they've been injured and received treatment from Sister Hortensia once... they'll deliberately create minor wounds as excuses to run back to her—even though it's painful, it's still treatment from a beautiful lady!" He shook his head helplessly, "They won't understand how difficult you, someone who's truly been to a battlefield, are to deal with... let alone the fact that you're a knight of the Holy Cross Church, surely you've mastered many powers of the Temple of Light."

"It is that obvious?"

"Ha!" Astro stood up from the manuscripts and records, poured a cup of tea for Salser, and then they clinked cups. After a moment of thought, he said, "I've been to the battlefield too, sir—many times, all because of the fierce conflicts between the trade routes of Cast City and the Moranth people of the Cloudmist Forest. I've shed a lot of blood, and only barely managed to climb to the position of a commander of the city guard. I can see it from your movements and posture—how different you are from those youngsters. You know, these bastards' concept of war is limited to the military's propaganda, but military propaganda won't make you bleed, military propaganda won't make you go hungry, and military propaganda won't make you tired to the point of aching back and sore feet, where you shed all your blood, sweat, and tears on the battlefield! But these heartless bastards, they won't still understand a damn thing until they experience it themselves!"

"Those black bugs certainly don't hesitate to kill," Salser said, indifferent to his complaints.

"We don't hesitate to kill those black bugs either!" the commander laughed, "This blood feud is deep indeed, I just hope they don't one day muster an army to storm this city!"

"It's been a blood feud for hundreds of years, and it wouldn't be strange to continue for hundreds more," Salser shrugged.

"Indeed," Astro nodded, "As for Inquisitor Jeanne... I seem to have some recollection." He pointed to a stack of documents in the corner, "Those are the records of the city's security over the past few days, you can take a look."

"You don't mind if outsiders touch your things?"

"It's nothing important, just some records of public order," Astro sat back in his chair, continuing to review the interrogations of the soldiers, "I only took a break to chat with you, but now I have to continue with the investigation of those cultists. Though I'm sorry, please feel free to browse through them yourself, Mr. Salser."

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