Chương 244: 244：The Value of Human Life

A gentle, soothing rain of soft azure light cascaded over every single wounded soldier. Under the miraculous wash of the hydrotherapy spell, their wounds—previously blackened, swollen, and severely infected by the toxic mud—visibly ceased deteriorating. Purgative streams of dark, poisoned blood were rapidly flushed from their flesh.

"This... this is a wide-scale healing spell! The kind that only high-tier Mages ranked Silver or above can possibly cast?!" Isabella gasped, her hand flying to cover her lips in sheer astonishment. Even within the royal capital of the Ironpeak Duchy, Mages of such high caliber were treated with the absolute highest honors and kept safely within the royal courts. Who in their right mind would deploy them to the filthy frontlines, wasting their precious mana just to cast healing spells on base-level grunts?

But that wasn't even the most world-shattering shock.

"Come on, give me a hand! Pinch this kid's jaw open! His intestines are literally spilling out; hydrotherapy alone won't stitch this up!" Kyle's gruff, booming voice echoed as he took massive strides toward the cot of an Ironpeak soldier hovering on the absolute brink of death. From a meticulously crafted, shock-proof wooden box at his waist, the Quartermaster pulled out a small crystal vial.

The moment the cork was popped, an incredibly refreshing, wondrously fragrant medicinal aroma instantly flooded the entire cabin. Contained within the vial was a thick liquid radiating a brilliant, dark-crimson halo.

"[Minor Life Recovery Potion]?!" Commander Carter was utterly horrified. He lunged forward, violently clamping his hands around Kyle's thick wrist, his voice trembling uncontrollably: "Brother! You can't! You absolutely must not use that!" Carter was literally losing his mind. As a Commander, he obviously recognized the item! This was a miraculous, life-saving elixir purified by high-tier alchemists! Out on the black market, a single vial of this size could fetch an astronomical price of dozens of gold coins!

It was an absolute treasure, a luxury exclusively reserved for high nobility and Supreme Commanders!

"He is just a standard private! How is he worthy of such an exorbitant magical potion?! This... this is far too extravagant! Just cut away his rotting flesh and cauterize it with hot coals! Please, do not waste such a priceless treasure!" Carter was sweating profusely. Though his heart bled for his subordinate, the deeply ingrained, rigid class hierarchy of the era made him instinctively feel this was an apocalyptic waste of resources.

"Shoo! Get out of the way! Stop stopping me from saving a life!" Kyle unceremoniously shoved Carter aside. He glared at the Commander, puffing out his chest to declare with booming, absolute pride:"Here in Greywater Village, we don't have those rotten rules dividing people into classes! The Lord Commander has given his absolute word: Gold coins are dead objects, but human lives are breathing!

As long as we are saving a brother who fights the Orcs under our banner, no matter how expensive the potion is, we dump it down their throat!" Glug! Under the utterly paralyzed, dumbfounded gazes of Carter and Isabella, Kyle unceremoniously dumped the exorbitantly priced potion directly into the dying soldier's mouth. A miracle unfolded. Within the span of a few breaths, the bone-deep wound across the soldier's abdomen actually began to generate new tissue, rapidly knitting together and forming a thick scab.

Even his previously ashen, deathly pale face regained a healthy, vibrant flush. Carter stood completely frozen in place, unyielding tears streaming down his cheeks. He slowly turned his head, watching the logistics personnel of Greywater Village carrying bowls of steaming, rich meat stew, spoon-feeding it mouthful by mouthful to his crippled soldiers. He listened to the soft, utterly incredulous sobs of his men.

"With a Supreme Commander like this... a Lord who actually treats human life as something precious... as long as his sword points the way, what soldier wouldn't gladly die for him?" Carter was moved to the very core of his soul. Watching this scene unfold, the highly intelligent Isabella felt a profound shudder wrack her frame.

Greywater Village's insanely extravagant, psychotically premium battlefield medical system laid bare the territory's most terrifying war potential: a miraculously low casualty rate, and an absolutely unmatched, unbreakable military cohesion! Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. Deep into the night. The torrential storm finally ceased, and the Misty Swamp welcomed a rare moment of tranquility.

Inside the stilted command cabin at the highest point of Greywater Village, pine charcoal burned fiercely in the hearth. Having changed into dry, warm cotton clothes and confirmed their subordinates' conditions had entirely stabilized, Carter and Isabella arrived side-by-side.

"Lord Soren." The moment the two stepped through the door, they dropped to a single knee without a microsecond of hesitation. They slammed their right hands heavily against their left breasts, executing an incredibly solemn, highest-tier Knight's salute.

"Greywater Village's grace today is tantamount to a second life! I, Carter, along with the entirety of the Ironpeak Duchy's 3rd Heavy Armor Company, vow to view Your Lordship as our reborn father! We shall never forget this profound debt of gratitude until the end of our days!" Carter's eyes were still bloodshot, every single word ringing out like struck iron. Isabella also deeply lowered her usually proud head.

"Lord Soren's boundless magnanimity and righteousness leave me deeply ashamed of my own inadequacy. Not only did you save our lives, but you preserved the absolute core secrets of the Ironpeak Duchy. The entire Duchy shall express our heaviest, most profound gratitude for this alliance!" Sitting behind his long desk, Soren immediately set down his quill. He quickly walked around the desk, using both hands to firmly and steadily lift the two commanders to their feet.

"What are you two doing? Please, stand up!" An incredibly genuine, spring-breeze-like smile blossomed across Soren's face. Utilizing his highly charismatic, deeply infectious tone, he instantaneously dissolved the overly solemn atmosphere in the room.

"Commander Carter, Lady Isabella. The Orc Alliance is our mutual, mortal nemesis. We all belong to the human faction. Within this man-eating swamp, we are blood-kin whose fortunes and lives are inherently tied together!" Soren guided them to sit by the roaring hearth, personally pouring them two cups of warm rum.

"If it were my Greywater Village forces surrounded today, I believe with absolute certainty that the warriors of the Ironpeak Duchy would not stand by and watch. Brothers-in-arms must support one another. Let's hear no more of this 'reborn father' talk—it makes us sound like strangers!" His words were flawlessly airtight. Not only did they provide the guests with immense face, but they elevated Greywater Village's intervention to the absolute, supreme heights of human righteousness.

Any lingering restraint within Carter and Isabella's hearts instantly evaporated into smoke, leaving only a chest entirely filled with profound warmth.

"Come, drink to ward off the chill." Soren raised his cup. Then, seamlessly shifting the topic, his tone took on an edge of deep concern and earnestness:"However, while I see your brothers' conditions have stabilized, their broken bones have yet to mend. A long-distance march is absolutely out of the question right now. If you forcefully attempt to leave the swamp and return to the Duchy, I fear you will face lethal complications along the way."

Soren locked his piercing gaze onto Carter, taking the initiative to extend an invitation to stay:"If you don't mind our humble accommodations, Commander Carter, why not lead your brothers and remain here in Greywater Village for a few more days! We possess an impregnable defensive line, and ample supplies of medicine and meat stew. Wait until everyone's wounds have fully healed and your combat strength is restored; there is no rush to leave!"

Cradling the warm cup of rum, listening to these incredibly heartfelt words, Carter was so moved he didn't even know how to respond. On a border starved of resources, taking in dozens of crippled soldiers completely devoid of combat capabilities meant hemorrhaging massive amounts of grain and medicine for nothing in return. Yet Soren had actively proposed it, and with such absolute sincerity!

"Lord Soren..." Carter took a deep breath. Overwhelmed by this unparalleled life-saving grace and extravagant material treatment, he finally nodded heavily:"Since Your Lordship is so incredibly generous, we will shamelessly accept your offer! Do not worry, My Lord! The moment our brothers can get out of bed, the men of the Ironpeak Duchy will shoulder all the heaviest, most grueling labor in this camp!

And if the Orcs dare to raid, we will absolutely stand at the very front to shield the brothers of Greywater Village!" Deep in the quiet night, Carter and Isabella backed out of the command cabin, offering a thousand thanks. The very microsecond the heavy oak door clicked shut... The gentle, highly charismatic smile on Soren's face instantaneously vanished without a trace. He picked up his cup of rum and walked to the window.

Pushing it open a tiny crack, he stared at the retreating figures of the two officers, his eyes flashing with extreme, Machiavellian calculation.

"My Lord, keeping these thirty-odd wounded soldiers... the daily cost of meat and medicine alone will be an astronomical expense," Lyra, stepping silently out from the shadows, whispered in mild confusion. In her eyes, given her Lord's tyrannical, Warlord-like methods used to recruit the Steppe Barbarians, why didn't he seize this opportunity?

He had saved their lives; why not use the exorbitant potions and the crushing debt of gratitude as absolute leverage to forcefully draft these battle-hardened veterans directly into Greywater Village's army? Soren took a sip of the strong rum, a profoundly calculating, cold sneer touching his lips.

"Lyra, you are only looking at the thirty soldiers right in front of you. You haven't seen through the grand geopolitical chessboard operating behind them."

"Forceful recruitment? Absolutely out of the question!" Soren's internal calculations were flawlessly, terrifyingly clear:"Talon's Steppe Barbarians are outsiders, actively ostracized and despised by the Duchy. If I absorb them, the Ironpeak high command will, at most, turn a blind eye. BUT!" Soren's eyes burned like torches.

"Who is Carter? He is an official, commanding officer possessing actual authority in the Ironpeak regular army! And Isabella is a High Intelligence Officer holding core defensive schematics! They are the absolute, untouchable core figures within the Ironpeak military hierarchy!"

He walked back to the hearth, extending his hands to feel the dancing flames, laying bare the brutal geopolitical reality for Lyra:"If I exploit their moment of vulnerability to forcibly detain and recruit them, the nature of this event fundamentally mutates!"

"The Grand Duke of the Ironpeak Duchy would possess absolute certainty that I am instigating a mutiny among his direct generals! He would believe I am actively stealing their highly classified defensive secrets! When that happens, Greywater Village will instantaneously transition from a vital ally into a brazenly provocative, mortal enemy!"