Chapter 22: The Wounded

Shaoke and his companions did not wait for the battle to end before finding a relatively safe spot. Protected by several soldiers, they began meditation to recover the mental energy and mana they had just expended. Even without Shaoke's intervention, Mage Yija and Mage Kiya could have cast at most one more spell before depleting their mental energy and mana, causing them harm. Even then, they would require a long meditation to recover.

Although Shaoke had only cast a first-level spell this time, for someone on the verge of advancement, his mana consumption was high relative to his more refined mental energy expenditure. Supported by his strong mental energy, Shaoke recovered relatively quickly. However, when Shaoke fully recovered and woke up, he realized that Mage Yija had finished recovering even earlier. This annoyed Shaoke for a while. Having a good meditation method sure made a difference. If he couldn't find a better meditation method in the future, the gap between him and others would gradually widen, and it might even delay his future advancement unnecessarily.

After waking up, Shaoke nodded to Mage Yija but did not engage in conversation. Instead, he noticed that aside from some soldiers collecting spoils, there was a group of soldiers gathered around, chattering among themselves, with the physician's voice occasionally heard among them.

As for Mage Yija, who had recovered first, he watched Shaoke go to find the captain with a complex expression, feeling quite conflicted. He truly couldn't understand why the other had genuinely mastered the technique of dual-handed spellcasting. How could a skill that even archmages couldn't master appear in someone not yet a true mage? Initially, he thought Shaoke was still practicing, but now it seemed he had succeeded. This filled Mage Yija with both envy and admiration.

It turned out that during the spellcasting, Mage Yija had noticed Shaoke's casting state. When Shaoke's first spell hit the target, he and Mage Kiya were only preparing their first spell. By the time their first spell hit, Shaoke's second spell had already been successfully cast. This real-life example reignited Mage Yija's desire to learn the dual-handed hand-seal technique.

When Shaoke found the captain, he was directing some soldiers to disperse and stand guard around the perimeter. Shaoke inquired about the situation on the battlefield, and the captain informed him that one soldier had been injured by a snow deer's attack.

When the deer herd launched their only spell attack, the soldiers followed their usual practice and lay flat on the snow to avoid the enemy's spells. However, one soldier, for some reason, hid behind a large tree, hoping to luckily evade the enemy's spell attack. Under normal circumstances, he might have been fine, but unfortunately, during today's battle, an "ice spike" coincidentally pierced through the tree he was hiding behind and shattered the shield he held in front. Luckily, after passing through a tree as thick as a person, the spell's power was greatly reduced, only fracturing a few of the soldier's ribs.

This situation made Shaoke feel that the soldier was incredibly unlucky. With so many people present and only a dozen or so single-target spells from the enemy, and likely others hiding behind trees as well, why was he the one singled out? Unlucky—this wasn't just Shaoke's assessment; the captain and the other soldiers felt the same way.

After the incident, Physician Ino, ignoring the fact that the battle wasn't over, grabbed a few soldiers to protect him and rushed to the injured soldier to provide timely treatment. The surrounding soldiers quickly assembled a makeshift stretcher to carry their unlucky comrade back.

After simple treatment, the physician announced the injured soldier's condition to the soldiers: "Hey! Don't worry, lads. Poor Gore, aside from not being able to enjoy rum, has nothing seriously wrong. Oh! He might cough up some blood occasionally, but that's normal. We can't let those blood clots stay inside him, can we? Unlucky little guy, why didn't you choose a different tree? The one next to it looked thicker!"

After the physician announced that their comrade wasn't in serious danger, the soldiers began to joke around: "Hey! Unlucky Gore, why didn't those pretty crystals kiss your face? Did they change direction to avoid getting dirty? Haha!"

"Lads... I... I think... I think I would have preferred that... At least I wouldn't be left lying on this damned snow without care. Ugh! Be gentle. I can't handle your rough handling. What I need now is the comfort of a gentle woman, not... not you lot tugging and pulling. That's better. Thanks, lads. I don't want this. This will also reduce our spoils. I think I can still carry my share." The injured soldier managed to utter a few words intermittently, prompting his heedless comrades to lift him from the snow onto the makeshift stretcher. Their rough care actually made him feel a bit better.

The physician didn't appreciate the soldiers' jokes. His tense face made it easy for the soldiers to sense his anger: "Injured man, I think you should understand that you're hurt. There's too much blood clotting in your chest. Stop chatting nonsense with these idiots. You need rest now." The physician paused briefly before adding, "Don't worry, even if those ice crystals had pierced your head, I could have stitched you up. Also, don't worry about your share of the spoils. Leave them to me. My place is safe and spacious."

"Haha!... Did our physician put on a leather mask? Haha..." "What are you laughing at? You few, go clean up the battlefield. Don't damage those pelts, or I'll damage yours. Go on. I can take care of this unlucky fellow myself." Amid the physician's annoyance, only two or three soldiers stayed behind to help him care for the injured, while the rest joined the cleanup efforts.

Shaoke felt that this time's harvest was much more abundant compared to the morning. Just the varying grades of first-level magic cores alone were worth nearly fifty gold coins, and those beautiful pelts could fetch about ten gold coins if sold entirely. If the mages hadn't killed so many prey with spells, there would have been even more intact pelts.

However, the few snow deer Shaoke initially trapped with the "Web Spell" had their blood drained alive under the physician's guidance. Their pelts were completely skinned and prepared for tanning, intended for the mages' use. Even these few pelts were the most valuable.

Seeing the busy soldiers carefully cutting the antlers, the physician shouted loudly: "You wretched fools! Do you want to sell these precious medicinal materials? I absolutely won't allow it. Besides, you can't carry more prey this way. These materials are the best ingredients for making healing medicine. If you want me to use inferior drugs to treat you in the future, I don't mind you giving me a few intact antlers. I remember I've said this several times. You greedy lot, if I weren't here this time, you'd still hide them from me and sell them to those black-hearted merchants like before."

Under the physician's furious insistence, the soldiers reluctantly carried out what seemed like a cruel order. The intact antlers were split with axes and cut into strips for easier carrying. The soldiers consoled themselves: "Don't worry, brothers. Next time, he might not even come along. We'll hide them well then, and it'll still be a big sum of money when we get back. Hehe!"

When Mage Kiya finished recovering, Shaoke suggested abandoning some less valuable prey and heading back to camp quickly. If the soldiers carried too much, it would slow them down, and there was an injured soldier who needed detailed treatment. Delaying too long would negatively affect the injured soldier's recovery.

For the ordinary soldiers, this harvest was quite good, even after abandoning part of the spoils.

However, their comrade's injury put a damper on the soldiers' mood to some extent, as they didn't know when they might end up like today's comrade—shamefully lying on a stretcher, carried back, or buried by their comrades in the vast snowy wilderness, eventually becoming a pile of bones announcing to any passing humans that someone had fallen here.

Such situations had happened before, and not infrequently. Shaoke remembered that in his over two years here, out of the more than three hundred soldiers in the entire town, aside from a dozen or so who completed their service and left, over two-thirds of the troops had been replaced with new faces.

This attack meant little to Shaoke, but the two mages were thrilled by the victory. Along the way, they kept discussing the battle, and when excited, they would even wave their staffs vigorously, disregarding the surrounding soldiers, to vent their emotions. Although they envied and admired Shaoke's ability to cast spells quickly, perhaps to save face, they never brought up the dual-handed hand-seal technique with him again.

The physician did not join their conversation. He dutifully guarded the injured soldier, occasionally comforting the poor unlucky fellow. After consoling the injured soldier, the captain fulfilled his duty by leading the team back to camp before the sun disappeared.