When the crowd heard the rumours, they saw only a few priests in white robes squatting or standing, treating wounded soldiers. Their hands emitted a glowing white light, covering the wounds, and the wounds would heal in a short time. If you have a fracture or a more serious injury, you may not be able to heal it all at once, but you can reluctantly move even after the bone has been corrected. Wherever the priests went, the soldiers were grateful, and a few others spontaneously followed them, helping to deal with some injuries that could not be healed by healing techniques.

These priests are also quite magical, they are always smiling, no matter how frightened the wounded may be, they can always calm down under their smiles and in the words that make their mouths a little confusing.

There are many such priests, and you don't need to look for them to see them.

"You say they, like some kind of Holy Light Church, they have a strange ability to heal wounds. The speaker sighed, not that he felt that these priests were bad, but that he felt that there were too few. After all, there are still a small number of people who really die on the front line in the war of cold weapons, and there has never been such a large-scale battle as today's before. In many cases, soldiers are wounded and dragged to death by their wounds. In particular, some large wounds cannot be treated at all, and they will die of excessive blood loss in a very short time.

There are also some who died inexplicably because they were infected with the virus, and they feel terrible when they think about it.

If only there were more of these clerics, and there would be a few of them every other phalanx.

There are many people who think this way, and the superior generals may not care too much, after all, their task is only to be responsible for commanding the battle, and those who really care about these are the bottom of the army, only they need to face the enemy on the front line, and they are also the most often injured people.

There is a proverb among these soldiers that a scar is a countdown to the arrival of death. The meaning of this proverb is that the more scars, the closer death is, and every soldier will always encounter a fatal wound.

And these priests have just solved these problems.

Rosie nodded, but he was thinking about another question.

Mira left him and went straight to the Holy City, where he was given a handscroll of forgiveness, and he was now one of the archbishops of the Church, able to issue reasonable orders on behalf of the supreme authority of the Church. It is clear that the appearance of these priests is the work of Mira. He knows how to speculate better than anyone else, and he knows how to drill camps. The growth of the church will inevitably involve blood and dry bones, and this war is an important opportunity for the church to rise.

Once the clergy have saved a large number of dying soldiers, whether Jeruth, Huth, or any other force, they will find the church an indispensable link. Only with these priests can they not think too much about the source of soldiers. Moreover, a veteran soldier can often top three or five recruits, and the veteran has a military soul and is an indispensable and important part of the army. The brighter the future of the church, the greater the radiation, and the more believers it can attract.

Soon a priest came to Rossi's side, dressed in a white robe, with a silver cross on his chest and a Bible in his hand. He looked very ordinary, with short blond hair, and after bowing slightly, he walked straight to the wounded soldier, lifted his robe and squatted down, pressed one hand on the Bible, and the other slightly covered the soldier's wound, he smiled and said in a slow but powerful tone: "Don't be afraid, we are all the people of God the Father." Whether you live or die, you will return to the Father. ”

The white light flashed in his hand, and the continuous white light made the wound under the palm of his hand three or four inches of valgus gradually heal. A trace of oil sweat gradually appeared on his forehead, and it was obvious that his holy power was not much.

After a few moments, the wound on the shoulder of the man he had treated had healed almost completely, leaving only faint marks. The priest breathed a sigh of relief and staggered to his feet. He had already treated at least twenty people, and there was not much of the holy power left, but the wounded in front of him were countless.

"Excuse me, brothers, to move the most seriously injured one. He took a deep breath, wiped the sweat from his forehead, stabilized his shaky figure, and barely spoke.

People saw the birth of a miracle with their eyes, and there was a sensation, and in a short time two dying wounded people were carried over.

One man was stabbed twice in the stomach, and his intestines flowed out, and he was wrapped in clothes and pierced on him.

Another man had six arrows stuck in his back, two of which pierced through his body and pierced out from the bottom of his chest. With blood foaming in his mouth and his limbs twitching slightly, it was a miracle that he had survived so far.

The priest smiled wryly and sat down cross-legged next to the second person, he looked at the crowd around him, "Can anyone do me a favor?"

A soldier stepped forward, his face excited to try, "I'm coming, what do you want me to do?"

The priest pointed to the arrow on the man's body and said, "When I ask you to pull out an arrow, you pull out one, and wait for me to command the rest, is that okay?"

"Naturally!"

He closed his eyes and said a prayer in his mouth, no one could see anything, but Rossi could see a sudden glimmer of qi above his head, which then rose to the sky and disappeared into the sky, and then an invisible force was reflected in the sky and instilled into his body. This is prayer, telling the Father what you want, and if the Father hears it, he will make a reasonable choice about whether or not to fulfill the believer's wishes.

The priest pointed an arrow through his chest, and the soldier next to him slammed the tail of an arrow behind the wounded, and the whole arrow was shot out of his chest. A bloody arrow followed, drenching the priest and staining his pure white robes red. The priest didn't care at all, and performed a healing spell on the wound, and the white holy power flowed into the wounded person's body like mercury through the wound, slowly repairing the wound.

After a few moments, the priest gasped for breath, rested, and pointed to another.

Rosie frowned slightly, he could see that this guy was already at the end of his crossbow, and his holy power could no longer keep up.

He suddenly smiled faintly, stretched out his finger and pointed at it from afar, and one after another extremely powerful holy power fell from the sky, instilling it straight into the bodies of all the priests. The priest was stunned for a moment, and his whole person radiated a strong light. The darkness above the battlefield was dispelled in an instant by the source of these dozens of light Dao Ming, and these lights finally merged into one and rushed into the sky again, forming a huge ball of holy power in the sky.

Everyone looked at the ball of light in amazement, and suddenly the ball of light exploded, and countless points of light fell on the ground and landed on the body of the wounded. Countless wounds healed quickly at a speed visible to the naked eye at the moment when they were moistened by the light.

"Miracles ......," the priest looked around with a smile, crossed his fingers in front of his chest, and began to recite the verses of the Bible silently.

The "miracles" were connected one after another, shaking all the soldiers on the entire battlefield.

Some people are simply grateful, while others are stupidly looking at the priests who radiate a soft light, and something else gradually grows in their eyes.

This kind of thing is called worship!