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Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters-Chapter 771 - 61 Confrontation_2
Chapter 771: Chapter 61 Confrontation_2 Chapter 771: Chapter 61 Confrontation_2 Having said that, the short and plump representative flung his hands and walked away.
“Where are you going?” the tall and thin representative suddenly felt afraid—afraid that the other would go to tattle.
“Cleaning the toilets!” the short and plump representative left without looking back.
The other representatives found the situation dull and also dispersed.
Samujin, who had come to see Winters, had just witnessed this little farce.
“Centurion! These guys really don’t know what’s good for them.” Samujin reported to Winters indignantly: “You teach them disease prevention, yet they dare to complain about you! I used to think these sirs were respectable people, but now I see they are all good-for-nothings.”
Winters smiled and patted Samujin’s arm: “Do you have serious matters to report?”
...
‘The Centurion is still too soft-hearted.’ Samujin thought to himself: ‘Wait, I’ll handle this.’
Thinking this, Samujin stood at attention and replied: “One of my boys, a scoundrel, just came back from a scouting mission across the river.”
“Across the river for scouting?” Winters’s brow creased slightly: “I didn’t assign any river-crossing scouting missions to any of you.”
Scouting was a task that could only be entrusted to the most reliable and competent individuals. One false step in gathering enemy intelligence could turn into delivering information to the enemy.
“He… he went on his own,” Samujin’s face was filled with helplessness: “That kid, sigh, is too cunning and a strong swimmer. He floated a basket with a Hurd cloak across to the other side and swam across the river.”
Winters sighed deeply: “It’s good he’s back, bring him to me.”
“That kid.” Samujin hung his head down, fiddling with his hat as he spoke: “He’s seriously injured, nearly gone, can’t even speak. He just keeps repeating ‘wood,’ ‘wood’.”
“Is he still alive?” Winters braced himself on the tabletop and suddenly stood up.
“Barely hanging on.”
“Take me to him.” Winters, ignoring the stiffness in his left leg, strode towards the door: “Xial!”
“I’m here!” Xial, who was brushing the horses, quickly ran over.
“Go find Caman!”
…
It was a boy who had crossed the river for an unauthorized scouting mission.
The boy had large eyes, large ears, and also a rather large head, with a small scar on the tip of his nose—an instantly likeable mischievous sprite at first glance.
Judging by his appearance… he wasn’t even fifteen yet.
But Samujin said that this “boy” was actually already seventeen, just undernourished and therefore small and thin.
One could tell he had become a qualified man by looking at the calluses on his hands.
Now, his life might be permanently halted at seventeen.
Because he had been hit by three arrows, one in the left arm, another in the left leg, both pass-through injuries.
The arrows in his left arm and leg were not the deadliest, the most fatal was the third arrow that entered from his back and exited through his abdomen.
The young man on the brink of death still had his lips slightly moving.
Only by getting as close as possible, could one barely make out the word he was repeating: “wood.”
It was just Winters, Caman, and the injured in the room, no fourth person.
An unprecedented argument had just erupted between Winters and Caman—over the latter’s refusal to use Divine Arts.
“Listen to me, it’s not that I don’t want to help.” Caman, though he looked terrible, still patiently explained to Winters: “Divine Arts… Divine Arts can’t achieve everything…”
Winters suppressed his anger: “Isn’t the Divinity omnipotent?”
“The Lord certainly is omniscient and omnipotent!” Caman, too, lost his temper: “But I have limitations!”
“I’m not asking you to bring back the dead! He’s alive! He’s not dead! He’s still alive!” Winters gritted his teeth, even begging humbly: “I’m asking you, I’m pleading you! I’m simply asking you to mend his wounds, just like you did for Andre! I beg you! Please!”
Caman hesitated, struggled, and stared fiercely into Winters’s eyes, searching for any signs that Winters was trying to uncover the secrets of Divine Arts.
But he found nothing, and it only reinforced his belief that Winters genuinely wanted to save this child.
Caman struggled, struggled, and struggled, barely managing to articulate: “Andre’s organs weren’t damaged!”
“Why can’t it be done with organs?!” Winters shouted.
Caman, nearly losing control of his emotions, shouted back: “It can’t be done because it can’t be done! Organs just can’t be done! Andre received timely treatment for bleeding, this child has already lost too much blood! Forcing Divine Arts might kill him immediately! Do you understand?! Do you understand?!!!”
Winters still had a shred of lucidity left, and he realized that his current actions amounted to exploiting an opportunity to probe into the mysteries of Divine Arts.
“I won’t ask! I’ll ask nothing! Nor will I look or listen!” Winters clutched at Caman’s arm: “Just save him, just that! Isn’t that enough?”
Caman was silent.
“I know, I know it’s not fair to you! It’s very unfair, the most unfair sort of unfair! But only you can save him now! He is a believer too! He is also one of your flock!”
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Caman steadied his mind and said coldly: “Then assume I don’t want to save him!”
“Using Divine Arts might kill him, but without it, he will definitely die!” Winters strived to keep his emotions in check, clinging to reason: “We have to try!”
“Even if he doesn’t die right away, he might still die within the next few days.” Caman pulled his arm away, his eyes cold: “If you really care about him, you would let me prepare him for his last rites. Not ask me to extend his life, to let him struggle in pain for a few more days before he receives the Lord’s grace!”
“What do you mean?” Winters felt as though he had been betrayed.
“You know what I mean.”
“Do you think I want to save him for the intelligence in his head?” Winters’s shoulders and fingertips were trembling: “Is that what you think?”