The Journey of the Demon Hunter

"If I'm a soldier, kid. Then this is what I want to care about." Rasti carefully sutured the wound. "Don't move, you need to rest and you should be able to survive." Then, the doctor turned his head to other medical services. The staff shouted, "Bring up the next one, hurry up! Ayrora, what are you doing?"

"There is a man here. He ran in alone just now and he was in a coma." Airorah's priest robes and white gloves were stained with blood, and a man covered in blood fell in front of the camp door. This was a soldier. His armor was covered with blood stains, making it difficult to see which unit he came from.

"Then give him a bandage. You can fix it by yourself, Ajola."

When the next patient was carried to Rasti's operating table, the halfling doctor couldn't help but breathe out.

"Xia Ni, look in his eyes."

This injury suffers from a pair of bright orange pupils and an inhuman vertical pupil. His body was pierced by a spear, almost destroying the entire chest, possibly riding a lance, he could almost see the injured ribs through his chest. But even with such injuries, some of the injured organs still did not fail or stop functioning.

"Devil hunter, damn... he's still breathing. The mutation made his organs stronger, so he stayed here, but... Marty, use your magic, try to rescue him. This is not a hemostatic bandage. And needlework can solve the problem."

"He's dead?" asked a soldier who had brought the demon hunter here. "Is everything we did in vain?"

"Nothing is in vain, soldier. His mutation may keep him alive, maybe not." Rasty walked to the other soldier whose arm was crushed and picked up the scalpel. "He is yours. Comrade-in-arms?"

"He is our partner, doctor." A small man with a bandage on his arm said sadly. He looked like an Adenian. "From our squadron, he is a volunteer and a master of swordsmanship. He killed hundreds of men in black, and the swords cut the gaps. His name is Cohen, but there are too many men in black."

"Do you know he is a famous demon hunter?"

"We don't know," said the third soldier. "But we only know that he is a good friend, a good comrade-in-arms. We are going back to the battlefield, doctor. May God bless you."

As the three soldiers left, a knight in full plate armor rushed in carrying a blood-stained man. A crack was cut in the knight's armor, the helmet did not know where it was hit, and the hair was wet with blood and stuck together.

"Hurry up, get out, get out! Hey! You, surgeon!"

"I'm very busy." Rasty dealt with a wounded soldier who was hit by an arrow without raising his head. "Put the wounded person on a stretcher and I will deal with him after this operation."

"You must take care of him right away, bastard! This is the noble Duke Daniel Echeveri, the hereditary Earl of Gallamoni!"

"In this hospital." Rasti's voice increased a little, and he used tweezers to take out an arrow from the abdominal cavity of the wounded soldier. "It has nothing to do with identity, whether you are a duke, earl, or ordinary wounded soldier. No one cares about this, they are all equal, at least on my operating table."

"What?"

"I mean, your Duke must wait for me to perform the operation on this wounded soldier..." Lasti threw the **** arrow into the barrel on the side. "Xia Ni, stop the bleeding, where's Marty? She's here. Where?"

"I don't know." Xia Ni rubbed her eyes with her arm. "I don't know, she just vomited in front of the tent door...this guy's intestines are like a puddle of mud..."

"Calm down! Shani, calm down!"

The knight took a step forward. "Damn halfling, I will hit you on the head if you come here!"

"Shut up, Parker!" Then the injured nobleman lying on the stretcher said, "Shut up, leave me here, and then immediately return to the battlefield. That's where you are most needed."

"But, Master, I swear I must guarantee your safety!" The knight knelt before the nobleman.

"You have done it, Parker. Now, return to the battlefield, this is an order!"

The knight saluted the nobleman, then stood up, picked up the long sword he had placed at the entrance of the camp, and had cut two gaps, and ran back to the battlefield.

On the other side of the operating table, Lasti finally completed hemostasis and sutured the wounded's abdomen. The wounded soldier fainted on the operating table.

"It may be due to excessive blood loss." Rasty wiped the sweat from his forehead. "If he is lucky, he will survive."

The helper carried the wounded down. When the nobleman was carried up, his face was pale, and there was blood everywhere on his body, making him look like a butcher in a slaughterhouse. There were several small wounds on his body and a scratch on his face, but the most important thing was that his knuckles and his entire forearm were almost crushed, and his entire arm was drooping on his body.

Rasty didn’t comment too much, he took a deep breath, “You need to amputate your limbs, the bones are crushed. Don’t worry, amputation and stop the bleeding, you won’t bleed to death. Shani, scalpel, hurry up, Get the bandage ready. Xia Ni, go see if Marty has finished vomiting, she is still needed here."

Daniel Echeveri, who has endured severe pain from the beginning of the battle to the present, is like a wolf. When he was about to grit his teeth again, Xia Ni quickly moved her hand and stuffed it between his teeth. A piece of soft wood wrapped in cotton cloth.

After helping the wounded who fell to the ground to bandage the wound, the little Aiara on the side took a deep breath. The smell of blood and vomit poured into the lungs of the young priestess, sweat, fear and death, weeping and wailing, and the blood stains sticking to him, the smell of blood everywhere. The broken limbs piled aside and the corpse carried outside the tent seemed to remind them that the **** of death had come here and had not left.

Great Meritelli, help me.

She took a deep breath, dragged the heavy wounded to the stretcher near the front of the tent, and immediately trot to the other side with the priest's skirt, and began to bandage another soldier whose head was broken.

Chapter 985: Chance of Victory

"It's time, gentlemen, let us crush the last straw for the enemy." Marshal Kochlen straightened his waist and looked at the battlefield in the distance.

"Give an order to attack, Marshal." Colonel Keith Van Low paid a military salute to the Marshal. "The Usica Division is ready."

"We must attack, but it is not yet time to press all the cards up." The marshal said to another officer in the camp. "

The only elven officer in the camp, Isengrin Faotiana, known as Colonel Iron Wolf, commands the most powerful elven force in the Imperial Army. Isengrin nodded indifferently to the Marshal, his face was painted with war patterns, but everyone knew that there was a terrible scar on his face, which was only a war pattern from his forehead across the bridge of his nose until his side. Make his disfigured face look even more fierce. Hearing that his troops were about to be sent to the front, his disfigured face showed no expression, even his deep eyes did not have any emotional fluctuations.

Maynor Kochlen raised his baton and pointed it at the left flank of the battlefield where the Northern Allied Forces were attacked by the Imperial Army.

"Your troops are attacking in that direction and merge with the troops of Deswen Division and Ad Fein Division. I want you to break the enemy's defense line and intersperse to the enemy's rear!"

The elf saluted again and turned and walked out of the command post.

Coheren looked at the back of the elf officer leaving, and couldn't help shook his head. These elves are allies of the imperial army, but they are always so weird that people don't understand what they are thinking at all.

In the command post of the gallows, Marshal John Natalis received a second news from the right wing of the coalition forces.

"The right wing needs assistance, Marshal Marshal. I heard that the commanders of the right wing are all dead. Count de Et, Baron Aubrey, Baron Dorian, their flags have all fallen." The staff brought a new piece of news. Since the last time Count de Ite asked for help, the command post has never received any news from the right wing.

"Send General Bruncott's troops out, our line of defense won't last!"

John Natalis stood in front of the map, looking at the battle lines indicated on the map. No matter where it is, his troops are retreating steadily. There were less than 30,000 soldiers on his front line. To be precise, there were only 26,000 soldiers, and the Nifogardians had sent more than 45,000 soldiers to attack the coalition defense line. Not to mention, behind this advance team, there are 40,000 infantrymen who are following up. They will definitely not be able to defeat the Nilfgard by conventional tactics. He must seize the right time and use General Bruncott in his hands. The commanded 10,000 cavalrymen launched the most precise attack.

Whether it was too early or too late, these ten thousand people could not achieve the results the Marshal wanted.

"The scouts I sent to the front have not yet come back." Natalis opened his eyes wide and stared at the map in front of him. "I need the most accurate information. One or two flags don't mean much."

"But our line of defense is about to be breached, and we can't hold on. If the Nilfgard people tear up our line of defense, we will be all over."

The Marshal remained unmoved by the suggestions of those around him.

King Foltest sat behind and said nothing.

"Your Majesty, we should attack or retreat." A close attendant said to Foltest. "For your safety, both Tamoria and the Northern Allied Forces need you."

"Here, Natalis is the marshal, not me." Foltest sat on the wooden chair on the side of the camp with a side face, and looked blankly in the direction of the podium. "I have already Having known him for many years, I believe in his command."

"Master Marshal, then at least send the PFI Corps. We really can't stop it anymore."

"No." Natalis shook his head and stared at the battle map in front of him, as if to see through the entire battlefield. "The time has not come."

There was a sound of horses hoof outside the camp, and a messenger in Brugg's uniform jumped down before the horses stopped, and he fell on the ground.

"Master Marshal, we need reinforcements! Kill the elves who serve the Nilfgard. We are about to be defeated."

Hearing the report from the messenger, the staff officer on the side added the flag of the Velihead brigade on the battlefield by the Jinchi Lake.

"Stay steady," Natalis said. He raised his eyes and looked into the distance through the camp. "Stay steady, it's not time yet."