Gunpowder Plate Armor and the Magic Revolution

This is clearly a philosophical question, and any answer seems to have flaws.

In addition, since Noze really couldn't figure out Father Cisse's temperament, he said something that everyone says during their student days—something neither good nor bad.

"...I'm sorry, Father Cisse, I don't know much about this issue yet."

"Hmm, you're quite honest. Let me give you an example. If you were on the battlefield and encountered a soldier whose chest had been ripped open by shrapnel, his ribs broken, and his lung punctured, and he was coughing up blood, his breathing getting weaker and weaker, the standard procedure would be to first stop the bleeding, then stabilize the broken bones, and then use magic to repair the damaged lung, right?"

Father Cisse looked at him calmly, “But by the time you finish all this step by step, the soldier will be dead. His lungs will be ruptured, and blood and air bubbles will be stuck in his chest, pressing on his heart. No matter how much you stop the bleeding, he won’t be able to breathe.”

"I'm saying this to tell you that dogmatism is undesirable, especially when it comes to healing spells. As a magician, the most important thing is to think. If you feel that you don't have the ability to adapt to changing circumstances and can only follow the textbook steps, then I suggest you don't waste your time on this."

"I understand, Father."

He took a deep breath, looked up to meet Father Cisse's gaze, and said, "But I still want to learn. I know it's difficult, but I still want to try."

Father Cisse looked at him for a good ten seconds, his light gray-blue eyes seeming to be judging whether he was telling the truth or just acting on impulse.

Finally, he raised his chin and pointed to Nozer's ribs.

"Then I'll give you my first test."

"Please speak."

"Nothing else is needed. Now, use your magic to alleviate the bruise under your ribs. It doesn't need to be completely healed, just enough to reduce the pain there."

Noze was taken aback, not because he was surprised that Cisse knew about his pain in his ribs, after all, it seemed that there was nothing that mages could not do.

He was surprised because he had always used magic externally before, and had never tried to use magic within his own body.

"What, you can't do it?"

Father Cisse looked at Noze with some hesitation and raised an eyebrow.

"But you haven't taught me yet..."

"This is what you call a test. Do as much as you can. You won't die as long as I'm here. Go for it!"

Noze could only compose himself and close his eyes.

He took a deep breath to calm himself down, and like he had done in the classroom that morning, he tried to capture the faint magic within him.

This time, instead of gathering them at his fingertips, he tried to let the magic scattered throughout his limbs flow slowly down his right side along his blood vessels.

A dull, burning pain shot through the area where Captain Lyman's wooden sword had struck; the capillaries beneath the skin were ruptured, and the muscle was bruised. It hurt even with the slightest touch.

He tried to break the magic down into extremely fine threads, and, just like before, probed little by little into the sore muscles.

But this is completely different from manipulating external objects.

The tactile sensation of external objects was clear, but as soon as the magic probed into his own muscles, a sore and throbbing pain shot through him, causing him to subconsciously tense his body, and the magic that had just gathered instantly dissipated.

He opened his eyes, and a thin layer of sweat had already appeared on his forehead.

"When it comes to external manipulation, you are an observer. When it comes to internal manipulation, you must become a participant."

Father Cisse's voice rang out at the right moment, "Don't think about 'action,' first 'feel,' feel the contraction of your muscles, feel the flow of blood in your veins, feel the state of those damaged areas. If you don't even know what they look like, how can you talk about repair?"

Inspired, Nozer closed his eyes again.

This time, he didn't rush to intervene, but instead softened the touch of his magic and slowly wrapped it around the injured area.

For the first time, he could feel the inside of his body so clearly.

Muscle fibers become tense and spasm due to bruising, and capillaries under the skin rupture, causing blood to seep into the interstitial spaces, which is why there is swelling and pain.

At the same time, the vibrations of the heartbeat traveled through the blood vessels, and with each breath, the rise and fall of the ribs would aggravate the injured area, sending a sharp pain through it.

So this is the first step to healing: not thinking "what do I need to do?" but understanding "how it is now".

Using the biological knowledge he had learned in his previous life, he patiently sensed it little by little, and then, through extremely precise manipulation, he broke the magic into threads thinner than a hair, carefully extending them along the muscle texture, gently smoothing out the spasming fibers, and pushing away the oozing blood little by little.

This process is more than ten times harder than writing your name in the classroom. If you press too hard, it will irritate the damaged muscles and cause a sharp pain; if you press too lightly, it will have no effect at all.

He was highly focused, sweat streaming down his face, soaking the back of his uniform once again.

After an unknown amount of time, he finally felt that the burning, dull pain under his ribs had really lessened a lot.

The area that used to hurt with every breath now only feels slightly sore and swollen when pressed lightly.

He slowly withdrew his magic, opened his eyes, and let out a long sigh of relief. His magic reserves were almost exhausted, and his whole body felt completely drained, even more tired than when he had been beaten by Captain Lyman for more than ten minutes in the sword class.

"Father Cisse, I..."

"I saw it; Hoffman really wasn't lying to me."

Father Cisse nodded, a faint smile finally appearing on his face. "This is your first time controlling an internal situation, and you've already achieved this much, able to handle minor injuries independently. You're quite impressive... Have you read any medical books?"

"no."

Nozer can't exactly say he's studied 21st-century biology, can he?

"Hmm...not bad, not bad, a promising young man."

Father Cisse Ashford even praised Nozer in the ancient language of the Seres Empire.

Noze paused for a moment upon hearing the somewhat familiar ancient language, but then a weight was lifted from his heart. "Then... you're willing to teach me?"

"Aren't you afraid of hardship? Aren't you afraid that in the end you'll fall into a state of self-doubt and emptiness?"

Father Cisse looked at him calmly and described a brutal war in words.

"Learning healing magic mostly involves following your troops, while others charge into battle, you'll be on the ground covered in blood and mud, dealing with soldiers howling in pain, bleeding wounds, shattered tissue, and severed blood vessels."

"You'll feel like a savior, an angel, tirelessly running across the battlefield, responding to the cries and pleas of the wounded."

"Then you'll find that the soldiers you've worked so hard to save are slowly developing high fevers, their wounds are infected and festering, they're delirious with fever, and finally they die while calling out for their mothers, and all you can do is watch."

"Over time, you'll start to think about the meaning of your existence, but you won't have time to think about this ultimate philosophy of life."

"You will become numb, looking at the wounded as if they were just pieces of wood that could shout and scream. You will learn to analyze whether the other person's chances of survival are worth using your abilities for, and then mechanically do everything you can, finally saying, 'May the Lord God Alistair bless you.'"