It's all one flower.

In this Nemoralis Republic, the people of the lake...... there are more wizards.

... I don't know what kind of weapon the terrorists have, but if there's an army out there, they'll crack it down soon.

There will inevitably be casualties on both sides of the security forces and the people of the Autonomous Communities.

This is not a war, so if the crackdown operation is completed, the wounded will be treated indefinitely.

At the Zerneau City Hospital, there's just a [blue one-wing] spelldoctor at the Central Citizens Hospital, and all the others are modern science doctors.

There are eighteen wizard pharmacists, including Awellana.

One in each private hospital in all ten districts of the city of Zerneau. Work two at a national and municipal public hospital in four locations in the city.

The magic medicine made by a pharmacist (dullness) does not extend to the magic of the medical system, but is far more powerful than ordinary medicine. The mechanism is fundamentally different from that of scientifically synthesized theatre drugs.

For example, [wound medicine] made with the technique of [thinking fowl] can be applied early in the morning if it is shallow wound, and it will heal without leaving any marks at noon. To help the seriously wounded, it was a necessity.

... the house, okay. It's far from the Autonomous Community, and your brothers are there.

The district of Jerizo, with its home and central civil hospital, is a short distance from the autonomous community of Listwar. Between the Autonomous Region and the Geriezo Region, the Scalar and Grjaj Districts were pinched.

My nephews aren't kids anymore.

Concentrate on the work in front of you so as not to think about anything extra.

When all the pots I had prepared were filled with green ointment, I was called from the side.

"Oh, uh, seniors... heh, lid... I will"

A young man who had just graduated from pharmacy said it was a bad idea.

A people without the power of the Fraxinus. I'm also anxious, but I guess I'm narrow shoulder as a fellow.

It was completely immersed in work and thought. I had no idea when a junior of the powerless people had come into the dispensing room.

"Thank you. Please."

Awellana said consciously, in the same tone as usual.

The junior nodded vigorously, handy, and got to the task of sealing the small barbecued pot with oil paper.

In the meantime, Awellana throws away the empty herbal wrap and opens the next one.

Myself, I meant to be calm, but my hands trembled and I can't really open the new one. Somehow, it was opened not to spill the contents when the seal of the pot was more than half done.

I wonder if the tranquillity in the dispensing room will cause anxiety, and talk to the junior.

"Hey, has everyone else left?

Sounds like it.

... Was there that many people in this hospital, in the Gryage District?

The conversation doesn't continue.

Do juniors care, too, I won't say anything.

I worked silently until I ran out of oil.

As Awellana predicted, a pot of thirty-seven wound pills was formed. Enter ten servings of standard usage per pot.

Looking at the clock on the wall, it had been nearly two hours.

The junior was entrusted with the cleanup, and Awellana went to the office.

As always, the radio is repeating extraordinary news. Seems the crackdown isn't done yet.

In addition to the assistant manager, there was also one young clerk back in the office.

The waiting room is deserted.

"Is it over? Thank you. I'm an inpatient, and I asked someone who could move to go home. Residents are evacuating to inland districts."

"Oh, um... terrorists are still..."

"How many wound pills did you get?

"It's for thirty-seven pots. Um..."

"Thank you. You guys should go home once. Come tomorrow morning if you think you can make it to work. If you can't, do something. Just call me."

The assistant manager said in an unspoken tone of absence and went back to his work.

Confused by one-sided language, Awellana realized that she should not be here, took her coat and bag out of the locker and left the workplace behind.

... what... this...?

Out of the hospital on the street, Awellana breathed.