Attempting to join the retreat, she found herself abruptly halted by the disciplinary squad, a sudden wave of despair washing over her.
A small measure of solace, however, emerged from the realization that she wasn’t alone in being forced at gunpoint to turn back, providing a slight equilibrium to her troubled heart.
‘Alas, there’s no changing it now. Who else but myself made such a choice in the first place?’
‘Take a deep breath, grit your teeth, shoulder that rifle and march forward—to the front lines, into the trenches…’
‘Honestly, what am I even thinking about?’
Returning to the tent she had occupied for the past few days, she found it utterly deserted, its interior a chaotic mess, as if ransacked by thieves.
Her small, makeshift bed in the corner bore the clear imprint of several heavy boots.
Her rifle lay undisturbed nearby, untouched by anyone, while other equipment was haphazardly piled on one side.
Her own meager personal belongings, what little remained, were relegated to the other side, equally ignored.
A single bottle of painkiller, retrieved from Nangong’s tent, and two letters, penned but unsent—these were all she possessed.
Everything else she owned had been left behind, either buried beneath the earth or simply abandoned.
Tucking both the letters and the painkiller into her pocket, Lin Yu shouldered her rifle and resumed her reluctant march towards the battle line.
The relentless Lanforthian shelling and assaults had already cost her dearly, and now, the desperate crossing of the Mang River had separated her from Nangong during the chaotic retreat.
Yet, a flicker of hope remained: she still possessed her rifle, and crucially, her magic, which could both protect her and offer healing to others.
The situation, though grim, was not entirely without hope.
Despite only a single bullet remaining in her rifle’s magazine, and her body holding enough magic for merely two and a half healing spells.
Lin Yu trudged onward, her head bowed as she moved between the rows of tents, until, as if guided by an unseen force, she halted abruptly before the entrance of one particular canvas dwelling.
‘Why did I stop?’
A faint sound emanating from within the tent seemed to answer her unspoken question.
Lifting the canvas flap, she peered inside, her gaze immediately locking with more than a dozen pairs of eyes.
The tent was packed with wounded soldiers, their injuries a gruesome tapestry of various afflictions.
Each man was bandaged, hooked to an IV drip, and clearly suffering from wounds that were far from superficial.
“You… didn’t receive the order to retreat?”
No sooner had the words left her lips than Lin Yu realized the foolishness of her question.
These men before her were clearly gravely wounded, left behind—”abandoned”—and her inquiry felt like twisting the knife in an already gaping wound.
Yet, the words were out, like spilled water, impossible to reclaim.
Under the weight of their collective gaze, she could only meet their eyes, waiting for a response.
“No…”
The same desolate emotions she had felt when packing up and leaving with Nangong now resurfaced.
As one of the abandoned herself, a profound wave of empathetic sorrow washed over her.
‘How incredibly cruel.’
They had miraculously survived the carnage of the battlefield, carried off the front lines by their comrades, only to wait by the operating tables for treatment.
Then, with a single command, every medic had been reassigned, leaving these gravely injured men to simply await death in their tents.
If death was their ultimate fate, it would have been kinder not to offer them hope at all.
To yearn for survival, to see it almost within reach, only to be cruelly told “no chance”—the psychological torment was immense.
The stark chasm between fervent hope and utter despair was vividly etched in their eyes at that very moment.
‘How pitiful… can I truly help them?’
Her small frame, if deployed to the front lines to hold back the Lanforthians, would undoubtedly be impaled by a bayonet, rendering her contribution utterly negligible.
Perhaps it would be better to quietly remain here, tending to these wounded soldiers.
At the very least, she could offer some small measure of comfort and aid.
To treat their wounds, care for their needs, offer them solace, and accompany them through their final moments.
Whether it was performing healing magic on the spot to miraculously restore them, or simply administering a quiet dose of painkiller for palliative care, anything was surely better than abandoning them here to perish.
Slipping into the tent, Lin Yu pulled the canvas flap shut behind her, then began to systematically divest herself of all her equipment.
Her rifle was exchanged for a scalpel, her bayonet for hemostatic forceps, and her entrenching tool for a traction device.
The hastily evacuated medics had left their surgical tools behind, allowing her to gather a sufficient array of instruments to perform the necessary medical procedures.
Naturally, before commencing any treatment, she first had to assess each soldier’s injuries, prioritizing them by severity and urgency.
This was the crucial process of rapid triage.
Ruptured arteries, open fractures, internal thoracic bleeding, tension pneumothorax, ruptured livers, ruptured spleens, peritonitis, dislocations… ‘Wait, how did *this* guy even get in here?’
After skillfully resetting the dislocated knees of one soldier, then unceremoniously kicking him out of the tent, Lin Yu compiled a concise list of the remaining injuries.
Three black tags, seven red, two yellow, and one green.
The man with the dislocated knees, having been unceremoniously ejected by Lin Yu, could at least be counted as one successfully treated patient.
Turning her attention to the critically wounded, Lin Yu immediately set about performing surgery.
“Relax… this is a painkiller. You’ll feel much better after this.”
Bolstered by the painkiller, she worked tirelessly, doing everything in her power to treat these soldiers, many of whom might not survive until dawn.
One, two, three—incision, hemostasis, traction.
“Come now, close your eyes. I’ll treat you right away…”
Silently, she chanted the incantation, releasing a healing spell to mend the gruesome wounds.
Many of them suffered multiple injuries, some wounds so grievous that they required at least two healing spells for complete closure.
Lin Yu’s dwindling magical reserves rapidly depleted, leaving her body utterly drained, and she slumped onto the small table beside the makeshift operating area.
‘Still not enough. I still can’t save everyone.’
To expect a fledgling novice like her to manage injuries that a dozen seasoned medics would struggle with for half a day was an impossible burden.
As she watched the wounded soldiers one by one cease breathing and their pulses fade, a profound sense of powerlessness, beyond mere exhaustion, began to creep into her very being.
Steeling her resolve, she snatched up a magic potion bottle and tipped its contents into her mouth.
A pungent, acrid scent immediately assailed her nostrils from her oral cavity, as the translucent, gem-like liquid swirled on her tongue.
The potent elixir, absorbed through her oral mucosa, swiftly transformed into pure magical energy, instantly surging through every fiber of her being.
‘Phew… this feeling of boosting magic…’
Unlike the gradual replenishment of meditation, this magic surged through her like a tidal wave, a jolt of electricity spreading from her throat, coursing instantly to her fingertips, toes, and the crown of her head.
A dizzying sensation washed over her.
Yet, her magical reserves were now almost entirely full.
Discarding the empty bottle, Lin Yu resumed her silent incantations, channeling a healing spell and guiding the ethereal mist directly onto a gaping wound.
‘Another one, and another…’
The arcane glow of the magic-powered lamp mingled with the brilliant radiance of her healing spells.
Out of thirteen soldiers, a total of four had their conditions stabilized, their injuries no longer threatening to worsen.
The soldier currently on the makeshift operating table had lost half his liver; it had taken three consecutive healing spells to barely close the wound, and he might well be left partially disabled.
“Will… will I… truly live?”
His hand clutched at Lin Yu’s, their skin making direct contact, and she felt an icy chill emanating from his touch.
“Yes, you can. You absolutely will survive. Just believe in yourself, alright?”
Gently, Lin Yu placed her other hand over his, offering reassurance.
“If the pain persists, I’ll give you another injection.”
As she turned to retrieve a fresh bottle of painkiller, the soldier on the operating table grasped her hand, his voice weak.
“I… I’m still so young. I haven’t even… kissed a woman…”
Observing the profound sorrow in his eyes, Lin Yu silently withdrew her left hand and filled a syringe with painkiller.
“What’s the big deal? I haven’t either. Just survive, and you’ll have plenty of women to choose from—girls from beyond the mountains, girls from our own lands, even Lanforthian girls!”
‘His blood pressure must be so low he’s hallucinating. Why would he bring up such a topic? Is this a dying virgin’s fantasy? Come to think of it, I also kept my first kiss before dying in my previous life… A foolish mercenary’s first kiss doesn’t seem to hold much value.’
‘Oh, right, my first kiss was with a drone. I almost forgot.’
“Try this.”
With a single injection, the soldier finally fell silent.
Lin Yu then quietly began to gather the remnants within the tent: the instruments on the tray, the opened but unfinished medications, the empty vials that had once held magical elixirs, and the bodies that were slowly growing cold.
Pushing herself up from the small table that had served as her chair, her feet finding solid ground once more, she was abruptly assailed by a wave of dizziness, nearly sending her sprawling.
Steadying herself against the table behind her, Lin Yu swayed as she approached the silent forms, carefully covering each one with a white sheet.
‘Only four people saved… oh, and counting the dislocated fellow, that makes five.’
‘Still, it’s better than letting them all perish here.’
‘…I suppose I’m a capable medic in my own right now.’
Emerging from the tent, carrying a bucket of medical waste, Lin Yu’s gaze fell upon the sprawling Diacla army, now advancing en masse towards the left bank.
Thousands strong, they were assaulting… the railway bridge?
“Huh? That bridge hasn’t fallen yet?”