Berserk: The Prophet

.........

Before long, all the injured people were gathered together and a simple tent was set up to shelter them from the wind. It was already quite good that they had a place to protect themselves from the cold wind before the villagers arrived.

Green knelt down in front of Abbo to treat his wound. It was no secret that Green knew some surgical skills for external injuries, based on their conversation that morning. However, Cheko was still somewhat shocked, since the most common method in their village was simply bandaging to stop the bleeding. He didn't know that there was such a treatment method besides using those rare and expensive medicines.

Usually, with their intestines spilling out, they don't have much of a chance of survival.

"Prepare some wine for me, and some clean strips of cloth." Green instructed as he took out a needle and thread from his pocket, which he kept in his private space for sewing. Fortunately, he had bought needle and thread from the tailor shop last time he needed to mend his clothes.

"...Alright, it's all here." Cheko had his men gather some over; these Vanskellians were known for their love of alcohol, so it wasn't surprising that they found some strong liquor.

Green washed his hands with the liquor, disinfected the needle and thread, and soaked the cloth strips in the liquor.

"It may be a little painful, just bear with it."

Green twisted the cloth strip soaked in alcohol slightly. Abbott nodded. To be honest, he didn't think he had much longer to live, because he had already bled a lot. But for the sake of any possible hope, he let Green do as he pleased.

"hiss..."

Green applied the alcohol-soaked cloth to the wound to disinfect it, which made Abbot, a strong man, wince in pain.

After waiting for two or three minutes, the cloth strip was removed, and his intestines were stuffed back in by hand. Fortunately, there was no tear in the intestines, so it was easy to put them back in. Then, the needle and thread were used to suture the wound.

The doctor who stitched up Aibo was sweating profusely. In those backward times when there was no anesthesia, he had to get more than 30 stitches.

After doing all this, Abbott had already fallen into a deep sleep from exhaustion. After wiping Abbott's sweat and covering him with a blanket, Green went to treat the next patient with more serious external injuries.

Fresh blood kept gushing out. There was no adequate equipment, no forceps, no clean scissors. The wound was simply treated by bare hands, a not-so-sharp but sterile knife heated over a fire, and teeth.

Stitching, stitching, and stitching again, they were doing everything they could to save everyone's life. Even though they couldn't share the powerful healing abilities with those not in their own teams, it was enough to keep many people alive.

............

After an unknown amount of time, the village's elderly and some strong farm women arrived with hurried footsteps. Their faces were full of worry, and when they saw the scene before them, they couldn't help but burst into tears. The bodies hadn't been put together yet, and their loved ones were lying on the ground. They searched for their dearest and most beloved ones among the pile of corpses, weeping bitterly.

Many people saw their loved ones' bodies before they even reached the tent, and wept uncontrollably.

“Hasana…” “Rud…” “Bondi…”

The women and elderly were calling out the names of their loved ones.

"I'm here..."

"Dailey!!!!!"

Some soldiers lay weakly on the ground covered with cloth, while others rushed unharmed to their lovers and embraced them tightly. The man, covered in blood, lovingly held the woman who was now a head shorter than him, gently pressing her head against his shoulder with one hand, while his other hand seemed to want to meld her into his very bones. He felt not only her hair in his palm, but also the beauty of being reborn, and was grateful that he could embrace his lover like this again.

The woman was already in tears, but she didn't care that the man in front of her was covered in blood. She hugged his strong body, which still made her feel safe and reliable as always. After such a fierce battle, it was already the greatest wish that he was still alive.

Because people like them are very few, many people came to the side of the wounded one after another; they were all their family members.

Those who receive no response can only search desperately for the bodies of their loved ones.

A somber and melancholic atmosphere, the joy of people as if they had been reborn, and the stark contrast between human emotions filled the battlefield after the catastrophe.

Green also treated the wounds of the last soldier whose life he could save.

Green stood up and wiped the sweat from his forehead. He had only saved five people, and every second he could feel life slipping away. He only regretted that God had not given him the opportunity to finish his medical exams. Green, who had not yet graduated, felt that he still knew and used too little medical technology.

Cheko walked over and patted Green on the shoulder.

"That's already quite good. Let the people from their village take them away. The stretchers are ready."

"Ah."

Green responded somewhat somberly, because many people had only received simple treatment, and many wounded soldiers' wives had also observed Green's suturing surgery. Green decided to instruct them on a series of things to pay attention to during suturing, such as the stitch spacing and suture layers must be equal, when to remove the sutures, and what foods to avoid.

The peasant women of Krillin were deeply grateful to Green, for in those times knowledge was priceless, and skilled doctors were reluctant to reveal their methods of healing. So, although the man before them was still a child, he was as towering as a great man in the hearts of these women.

In their hearts, this child must have an extraordinary background and will surely become an extremely great person in the future.

"Thank you, Grin. May the goddess of justice, Astalia, protect you."

"May the goddess be with us." Green nodded as he listened to the peasant women's wishes.

Watching the villagers of Krela carry the wounded away, the Krela warriors exchanged greetings with their families and then joined Green and his group to lead the villagers on another journey to Barkley City, also known as Port Tulai, the largest trading center in Barkley.

The group had grown to more than 60 people again. The sun was setting, and it was almost dusk. It was a heavy day, and everyone was carrying a heavy burden.

However, today was clearly not a day to be easily fooled. The sound of horses' hooves pounding in the snow grew louder as they approached, the sound of scouts galloping at breakneck speed. It was rare to see such speeds on a snowy day.

"Urgent report! Requesting immediate advance from Cheko, the militia leader from Balan, with his troops to join forces with the village of Relasel in resisting the Vanskerry bandits!! Giddy up!!!"

After delivering the message, the scout immediately rode off to the battlefield, indicating the urgency of the situation. The scout from Relasel was pale-faced, as he had just gone to find Krira's militia. Their force of over ninety men had been almost completely wiped out by the forty Vanskeri men. When he learned from the villagers that Balan's militia captain was leading the remaining able-bodied men of Krira toward Tulai Port, he quickly caught up and urged them to provide support. However, he found that there were only about sixty men left.

Keep in mind that the Vanskeri people they encountered in their village numbered as many as sixty or seventy, meaning that even if they all attacked together, their fighting strength would be less than 160 people. This would be a battle with a very large disparity in strength!