Eshu's own breathing was heard.

His eyelids were still heavy, but his consciousness had gradually broken free from the empty chaos, the faint light fell on his forehead, the warmth slowly seeped into his eyes, the slightly bitter aroma of herbs rose and fell around him, and the occasional sound of firewood "crackling" and burning, and the sound of boiling liquid tumbling in the container. For a moment Estheus thought that he was still lying sick in his tent, that the old drunkard had never visited, and that the previous terrible and painful bloody battle was just another strange dream. But Estheus soon realized that it was not a dream, for the intense pain swept through his body, every muscle that had been cut by the sword was screaming and screaming, and after the fiery desire to kill had subsided, the nerves began to demand the debt called pain. Eshua slowly opened his eyes, the hilt embedded in his right chest looking down at him condescendingly, and Eshu stared at the hilt for a moment—he could barely feel the blade in his body, which seemed to have merged with his flesh and blood—and then he struggled to turn his head to look at his surroundings. He was lying on the edge of a large tent, with a warm hide beneath him, and a simple stand was held under the skin to keep Aeshu at a distance from the ground. A small fire was set up in the center of the tent, and a man in a crow's mask was engrossed in watching the boiling cauldron on the fire, his face so close that the slender beak of the mask almost poked into the crucible.

"He woke up." A familiar voice sounded overhead, and for a moment Eshu thought he had gotten rid of its owner. He subconsciously wanted to get up, only to find that his wrists and ankles were tightly fastened to the brace by iron rings. It only took a brief attempt for Eshua to know that his current physical condition would never be able to break free. A few strands of slender hair landed on Estheau's cheeks, and Luciana crouched beside him, holding a clay medicine bowl in her hand. She looked up and down Eshy's white body with a fawn-like curiosity. "Do you want to give him medicine now?" She asked.

"Are you awake?" Damus turned his head in surprise and hurried to Ei Xiu's side, "It's really an amazing physique, no wonder you can survive the residual poison of the 'Blue Star'." He rubbed his hands together excitedly, his eyes shining behind the lenses of his mask. His fanaticism subconsciously made Esher feel strong disgust and rejection. It was not the first time he had met Damus, but he had never treated him as a patient, but as a precious test subject—yesterday he said he was "a Frost subject", and today he was even tempted to pull a knife out of his hand and dissect himself on the spot - in a way, Dams was just as annoyed as Lucianna, who believed he was the so-called "child of prophecy", both of whom Essho avoided but couldn't help but get caught up in the entanglement with them.

"It's still almost hot, and the last process of the pharmaceutical can only be completed by the dean, because only he has the right to use the 'hemp grass'." Dams lowered his head and gently grasped the hilt of the sword on Estheu's chest with his palm, "What a deep stab," his tone was ambiguous between admiration and teasing, "Either this is a peerless sword, or you took the initiative to come up and let it pierce you in the heart, the blade almost cut off your major artery, and before you woke up, I sawed off the half of the blade that was leaking through your back, but I couldn't do anything about the remaining half." He shrugged, "Or maybe you're powering me." ”

Eshua expressed his doubts with his eyes.

"At first Mr. Dammes tried to pull out the hilt of his sword, but your stress reaction was too intense," Luciana whispered from the sidelines, "and you almost knocked him out of the tent, so I had to tie you with a hoop." ”

"But even so, I can't pull it out, and I'm barely a strong man in the Royal Academy." Dams let go of his hand, "This half of the sword is like it has taken root in you, and I almost have to hold the hilt to lift you up without seeing it loosen in the slightest." He shook his head, returned to the fire, and began to stir the potion in the cauldron.

"You said that only the dean has permission to use the hemp grass, but what about the others?" Luciana asked, putting down the medicine bowl.

"Train people outside." Damus glanced at the curtain, "The strong man who carried the stretcher just now was the knight chief of our Black Spear Knights, Jige, he was responsible for commanding the West Gate in this siege battle, but because of the formation and on-the-spot command problems, the casualties were very heavy. The logistics camp in West Urn City could not even take care of so many wounded, so some of them could only be transported to the logistics camps in the other two Urn City. The dean was annoyed by this, he was an instructor in the tactical command department, and many of the senior officers in Poynbrough had been his students, but ......" he paused, "Giger had never passed his class. ”

"Oh......" Luciana replied at length, when Brochette lifted the curtain of the tent and entered. The old man's face still had an unquenched residual anger, every wrinkle taut, and his long beard flicked like a whip as he walked. Jige hung his head and followed him, his expression wilting, thinking that he had been scolded by a slashing of his head and face.

"It's a hemp grass." Brochette tossed a chunk of plant stem to Damus, "I'll leave the final work up to you." He turned to look at Giger, "Why are you following me?" Get out! ”

"Yes!" Gig gave a military salute and went out obediently. Brochette took a deep breath, slowly arranging his beard with his hands, and then looked at Esher in the corner of the tent: "Are you awake?" ”

Luciana nodded: "It wasn't long before I woke up. ”

"First of all, I should thank Your Excellency for your outstanding contribution in this siege battle, Jige has told me." Brochette walked over to Estheu and bowed slightly, "Poimbrough owes you a favor. He saw the hilt of the sword on Esseur's chest, frowned slightly, and glanced at Dammos obliquely: "This sword hasn't been pulled out yet?" The latter was looking at the crucible, but when Brochette's gaze fell on him, he couldn't help but give a stir, and immediately replied: "I don't have enough strength." ”

"I can pull it out myself." "But first, please untie me." ”

Brochet nodded, motioning for Luciana to undo the ring on her wrist for Eshyus. Essho moved his hands first, and then slowly climbed the hilt of the sword, but he didn't exert his strength for the first time, just exhaled a long breath, and finally took a deep breath and looked at Brochette, and asked, "There is half a sword blade attached to my main artery, but I believe that with the ability of the Wang Academy, I will not let me die of blood loss, right?" ”

Before Brochette could reply, a gust of wind had lifted his long beard and blown the sleeves of his wide robe into a hunting sound. Estheu's arms suddenly tensed, and the ons of his forearms protruded with green tendons, and the hilt of the sword was pulled out by him, but a considerable part of it remained in Eshu's body, entangled by those twisted tendons. Eshua slammed the hilt of his sword into his body again, and the flesh around the blade was immediately severed, and Eshu pulled out half of the sword without hindrance, and at the same time it was as if a spring had been dug into his chest, and a puddle of blood shot from the wound and splashed on the roof of the tent. Luciana reacted quickly, reaching out to press on the wound, but before she could place her palm on Eshy's chest, the squirting stopped, and then under her gaze, the huge wound began to slowly close, flesh and blood implicating each other, clinging to each other, but not in a pleasing way. Luciana only lasted a few seconds before she turned her head and covered her mouth, a muffled retching sound coming from her throat.

"It's ...... Heinfa," Brochette looked at Esher meaningfully, and he kept his eyes on Eshu until the wound on the latter's right chest was completely healed, and the uncomfortable details did not struck him in the slightest. And there's something older than Hainafa. ”

。 m.