Four Split Personalities

Motan was momentarily stunned, but then he smiled warmly at the person and the spirit in front of him, "Thank you."

"I think you’re just taking death too seriously," Guxiaole raised an eyebrow and spread his hands, "Okay, I admit most people in this world take death pretty seriously, but as long as it’s not a particularly tragic or suffocating end, ’death’ isn’t really something to be sad about. After all, every life will come to an end someday. If one can die a fitting death, I actually think it’s quite a good thing. And clearly, those who volunteered to fight under your command all met fitting ends."

"I know."

Motan looked at the girl who was trying to counsel him like a caring sister and nodded gently, "Don’t worry, I understand that much. It’s just that I’m not used to this feeling yet."

Guxiaole clicked his tongue, then patted Motan’s uninjured shoulder with force, "Then I’m relieved. Go on with your business, I’ll go and keep those nuns company for a while longer, give them some psychological counseling."

Having said that, he left with the still detachment of Tai Shang, turning away.

Having collected his emotions, Motan didn’t linger any longer, and continued to limp towards the row of tents set up for the emergency treatment of the severely wounded.

Two minutes later

Under the first tent

"Lord Hei Fan..."

A female Knight with golden long hair tried struggling to her feet, and waved feebly at the figure approaching from a distance, her gaze unwavering on Motan even after being pushed back down onto the blanket by the Dark Elf Druid beside her.

Emang Black Leaf frowned as he applied a pulpy mass of ground-up plants to the Knight’s left arm, barely covering the grisly wound, and snapped, "Can you stop squirming around? You have thirty-seven serious injuries all over, if you don’t want to die, then stay put."

"Lord Hei Fan..."

The Knight, delirious from blood loss, floundered again before curling up in agony.

Motan, who had just come over, noticed the commotion and crouched beside the young woman with a constantly shifting pallor from red to white, a member of the Sun Sect Knights. He asked softly, "How do you feel?"

"Lord Hei Fan..."

It seemed the Knight didn’t quite grasp Motan’s question, just murmuring dazedly. She was clad in a blood-soaked linen garment, surrounded by startling pools of blood. The set of Knight armor piled beside her was twisted beyond recognition, not wearable at all, and it was hard to imagine how she had been extracted from the armor in the first place.

"You’ve done well, Emang," Motan said, giving a slight nod to the Dark Elf Druid who was busy mixing herbs but still took a moment to bow in respect to him. He gestured at the Knight before him who was drifting in and out of consciousness, "Is she... going to be alright?"

"Barely saved her life, but she’ll probably never be able to wield a sword again," Emang placed the small clay jar on the ground, imbuing the herbs inside with magic power using a Druid’s particular spell, and said with a bitter smile, "During her last charge, she was dragged from her mount by a dozen monsters, nearly torn apart when rescued. Despite losing so much blood and having at least a dozen potentially fatal wounds, the Sun Sect’s divine power has some restraining effect on those Undead Creatures, and her armor was thick enough to keep her alive... but this marks the end of her career as a Knight."

Motan nodded in silence, looking down at the young woman with a beautiful face, tightly grasping his hand. He let out a deep sigh.

"Lord Hei Fan..."

The delirious Knight whispered again, her eyes regaining a spark of clarity as she weakly smiled, "I am... a low-rank Holy Knight of the Sun Sect, Dora Sika, your worshipper."

Motan managed to muster a faint smile, acknowledging her, "I remember you. You stood guard outside my tent in the days before the Requiem Project started. Do you feel any better, Knight Sika?"

"I won’t be able to be a Knight anymore, will I..." Dora smiled wanly, glancing and winking at the Dark Elf Druid who was kneading the medicine beside her, "I heard everything Mr. Emang said. The injuries seem quite severe."

After a few seconds of silence, the latter slowly nodded, "I’m sorry, given your condition, even if you survive this time, it will be very difficult to recover to your current state. Of course, it’s just very unlikely. If you take good care of yourself, a miracle isn’t completely out of the question..."

Emang was not lying; a full recovery was not impossible, but the chances were less than one in ten thousand. Nonetheless, he still wanted to give her a reason to live, because without the ’future’, this severely injured Knight on the brink of death wouldn’t last three days.

Motan, with some medical knowledge himself, could also guess the severity. As a Priest, he was acutely aware that Dora’s wounds were so serious that even Divine Arts would struggle to heal her. With so many vital organs damaged, even Xia Lian at her prime could probably only ensure that she would survive.

"A miracle?"

Dora murmured softly to herself, then suddenly smiled brightly at Motan, "Since that’s the case, Lord Hei Fan, I have a request..."

Not just because of the pain or for some other reason, that hand, calloused from years of wielding a sword, trembled slightly.

Motan nodded forcefully, "You say."

"If my wounds could heal..."

Dora’s tired and pained eyes fixed intently on Motan, she spoke softly, "If I ever have the chance to pick up my weapon and mount a warhorse again, would you allow me to be your Guardian Knight?"

Motan was taken aback for a moment, then immediately nodded, "Yes."

Although he did not know what a Guardian Knight was, it did not prevent him from already sensing that Dora truly had no expectation of becoming a Knight again.

"Thank you..."

Dora smiled in relief, and then she completely lost consciousness.

...

Five minutes later

Outside the last open-air tent of the resuscitation area

"Is Priest Ferman’s condition any better?"

Forced to rest, Motan took a sip of the Lion King’s Pride Potion and turned to Her Highness the Saintess behind him to ask softly, "Since you’ve come out, does that mean everything is alright now?"

Yu Chen nodded, speaking softly, "Yes, he’s out of danger now, and so are Mr. Tero and little Basaka, don’t worry."

"That’s good, I’m going to check on the main forces...uh!"

Motan smiled, just about to stand up, when Yu Chen pressed down firmly on the bandage on his shoulder, forcing him back down.

"You’re not going anywhere."

Yu Chen looked at him seriously, with warm haloes of light swirling around her fingers, "Save your strength, you still have a battle to fight."

Feeling somewhat embarrassed for being shirtless, Motan coughed awkwardly, "Well, I probably won’t have a chance to be at the forefront in the next phase, nor any command stress, so..."

"No~way~"

Yu Chen shook her head, still firmly denying, "You’ll just rest here with Mr. Tero, Priest Ferman, and the others."

"Sitting here idly makes me anxious."

"I’m at ease."

"Huh?"

"Nothing... How much longer can everyone rest?"

Yu Chen turned to look into the distance, her voice tinged with worry as she asked, "Can Xia Lian and Cordova endure any longer?"

Motan rubbed his forehead and shrugged with a wry smile, "Cordova is doing okay, but as for Xia Lian, she said she could last four hours, but I guess that’s rubbish, three hours at most. If the fourth phase doesn’t start in three hours, she’ll probably be putting her life on the line."

"Three hours..."

Yu Chen bit her lip and said in a low voice, "Which means there’s not much rest time left for everyone. If we go into the fourth phase in this state..."

"Yeah, I guess the losses will be heavy."

"But there’s no other choice left, is there?"

"Yeah..."

Chapter 448: End