A strange world

Chapter 1403 37. Behind the Northern Pass

Joan walked out of the big tent filled with the smell of blood and groans of pain.

She looked up and saw rows of identical tents spreading out in all directions - there were a total of thirty-six tents standing here.

As if the basin of water in her hand was too heavy, Joan lowered her head again, walked hurriedly on the frozen ground, and poured the dirty bandages in the basin into the deep pit at the edge of the camp.

Not far away, the priest was purifying the filth to prevent the spread of the plague.

There were soldiers who had fallen into the rat tide and whose bodies were chewed by rats like cheese, and there were also soldiers who were infected with plague and whose bodies were swollen like water bags and festering and waiting to die. There were countless wounded soldiers who were injured by weapons, teeth, and had broken limbs.

Joan stood at the door, took a last breath of the cold but fresh air outside, and walked into the tent to continue changing the bandages for the wounded.

That's right, she didn't come to visit the injured soldiers, but to take care of the wounded in the camp.

She clearly remembered the day she first arrived. When she applied to the person in charge at the rear to go to the front line, he looked her up and down and said with disdain: "You, a woman?"

"What's wrong with you woman? I'm a warrior and I've killed more ratmen than you've ever seen!"

"A soldier? A soldier who has never killed anyone?" Joan's immaturity could not escape the attention of the person in charge. "Either go to logistics or get out."

Joan looked at him and shouted, "Go! Just! Go!"

Then she chose to come to the wounded soldiers' camp, the place closest to the front line.

Every day, wounded soldiers from the front were sent here or to other camps. Some soldiers returned to the front after recovery, but most of them died here...

During those turbulent years, priests were in short supply and almost all of them were deployed to the front lines. The wounded in the rear camps could only rely on self-healing to survive.

Joan stayed here for three days. If she was just taking care of those soldiers who looked like evil spirits and dealing with their festering, ulcerating, smelly and cystic wounds, she could still endure it... What was really hard for her to accept was that when she was treating the wound of a "heroic" soldier, he suddenly overpowered her and treated her like a dirty whore.

What made her even more miserable was that the wounded people she was taking care of not only did not lend a helping hand, but instead surrounded her like zombies.

If she hadn't been a professional, she would have been defiled by the soldiers.

When the person in charge learned of this, he said loudly to Joan, "Do you understand? Standing on the field is not the place where you fight with the ratmen!"

"This is also a battlefield! You will see death, pain, despair, and the struggle of humanity!"

Joan understood that the person in charge was actually doing it for her own good.

I don't know anything. Even if I go to the battlefield, I will be a consumable and one of the long list of casualties every day.

Those soldiers who wanted to insult Joan were cruelly dragged out of the tent by the person in charge and hanged.

Joan thought she would hate them, but when the wounded were put on the noose, they apologized to Joan loudly, expressed gratitude, and said they just wanted to die.

Joan tried to stop them, but it was too late. They were like the nobles of Broken Mountains, hanging from the noose.

"Aren't they brave people who can fight against the rat people? Why would they want to commit suicide..." Joan asked the person in charge.

"Because death is the least of all sufferings."

This is obviously contrary to Liberty City's "people-oriented, life-oriented"...

The person in charge gave the cowardly Joan a day off, and she did not refuse. She curled up in her bed and thought all day long.

Why did I come to a place like this and do these errands?

She could go back to Liberty City, spend all day with Elimois, help her clean her body, cultivate feelings, and work hard to become a dragon rider.

Why do you want to come out and train yourself? Dragon Knights don't need to fight in person...

Snap——

Joan came to his senses and saw the wounded man in front of him burst out with unimaginable strength and grabbed his wrist tightly.

When she thought the previous scene was about to be repeated, the wounded man suddenly begged: "Please, leave us alone... let us die..."

They are not afraid of death, but they cannot accept themselves rotting in a dark tent.

“There will be hope.”

Joan said, and was surprised to find that the dark and turbid eyes around her were looking at her.

There is desire, pain, and despair...

"there is none left……"

He expressed the thoughts of other wounded soldiers.

"It will happen! The ratmen will be driven out without a single one left!" Joan shouted, "Do you want to fall before dawn?"

"Will the day really come?"

A faint whisper came from the tent, someone unknown.

Joan stood up, walked quickly to the door, and pulled the curtain open with force.

The cold wind from outside blew into the tent, and the slightly warm sunlight shone on her body.

"Look, it's daybreak!"

From that day on, Joan paid more attention to these wounded soldiers.

She opened several windows in the tent so that the wounded could see the sunlight and keep the tent ventilated. She also paid for a heater and bedding out of her own pocket, cooked special meals for the wounded, and told them stories about Liberty City.

Joan's abilities were limited, and she could only do small things, but they were enough to pull the wounded out of the quagmire of despair and help them regain their desire for life.

One month after Joan arrived at the camp, the person in charge found Joan and praised her: "You did a great job, Miss Joan. You kept those cowards alive."

"Don't say that to them. If you lost a leg or had ten pounds of flesh bitten off, you would be more painful than them." Joan frowned.

The person in charge said with disdain: "Even if I lose my hands and feet, I will still crush their throats with my teeth."

He wasn't here to argue with Joan, so he asked instead, "What do you want?"

“I want to go to the front!”

"you--"

The sound of hurried footsteps suddenly came from outside, and a figure wrapped in the cold wind rushed into the tent.

"What's wrong?"

The guard shouted, "The pass is in danger. Gather all wounded soldiers who can still fight to the front line!"

The person in charge groaned and looked around: "Did you hear it?"

The wounded who were sitting on their beds stood up one after another, indicating that they could still fight.

"And me!" said Joan.

The person in charge looked at Joan's face, which was thinner than when she first arrived, and said one word: "Okay."

A month after arriving in the Kingdom of Damon, Joan went to see her contact in Liberty City for the first time.

"You must find a way to send this news to Liberty City: there are a large number of wounded behind the pass. Their living environment is extremely poor and they are in urgent need of medical care. They are basically left to fend for themselves. Many of them could have been cured, but were dragged down to the point of no return due to the terrible environment. In addition, they also need a large amount of sedatives."

"And most importantly, we have to find a way to give them hope. Hope is more important than anything else!"