Astartes of the Bear School

Chapter 1695 1667. Limits of Ability

After a silent and depressing day, the next morning was overcast.

But the sunlight penetrating the clouds tells people that time is still passing.

In a piece of land about thirty kilometers outside the city of Vizima, the Nilfgaardians and the Northmen faced each other in formation.

Each side looked like a steel wall.

The wind started to blow, and the flags fluttered on the gun barrels, making a sound like the flapping of a flock of birds' wings.

The Nilfgaardian army stood there quietly.

"Why?" Foltest pinched his injured arm, which had not yet healed, and paced back and forth on the hill of the command post. He stared at the black-armored army opposite, "Why hasn't Kuhoen ordered an attack yet?"

Given the Nilfgaardians' rapid advance and unstoppable momentum since the resumption of the war, they should have rushed in like a mudslide half an hour earlier.

"When?" In the Nilfgaardian military camp, the Field Marshal looked up from the map on the table and looked at his commanders. "You want to ask me when to attack?"

No one answered.

Menno Cuhoon looked no different from when he was released from Lane's hands two and a half years ago, except that he had a few more gray hairs at the temples, making him look more stable and experienced.

He looked at the commanders in front of him. The most nervous ones were those who remained in the reserve.

The commander of the 7th Cavalry Brigade of Dellani was in his first battle today, and his adjutant had never been close to a battlefield before.

But most of the commanders who have truly been tempered on the battlefield are very calm, even bored.

Dubor Aigublaj, the commander of the Alba Heavy Lancer Division, was scratching his collar with the handle of his whip, just like a groom.

The commander of the Ade Fein Division looked at the enemy in the distance and whistled softly.

The commander of the Magny Division was cleaning his ears. He pulled out his little finger and observed the earwax on it, as if it was something more important than the war.

"Once the reconnaissance is complete," said Kuhoon, "the attack will begin. Gentlemen, I know that our offensive has been going very smoothly so far. But I still hope that you can maintain the caution of professional soldiers."

The veterans who were calm to the point of seeming bored nodded indifferently, while the nervous newcomers stood at attention with a serious face.

Among the newcomers, there are also two Nasser people.

"Give me a glass of white wine, son. My tongue is as dry as a piece of bread."

Menno Cuhoon shouted to the side, while Henry lowered his head, tightly grasped the handle of the copper kettle in his hand, and walked over to pour the marshal.

Hans held the hilt of the sword and stood behind the marshal, which should have been the position of an adjutant.

The Nasser Tactical Cavalry Regiment, to which they both belonged, was a provincial mercenary organization and had no right to stand with this group of serious Nilfgaardian legion commanders.

You don't even have the right to stand here.

But there was nothing they could do, because they were the "cavalry regiment"? In this fast-paced and fast-forward storm, almost all of the cavalry units of the Central Army Group were assembled by Menno Kuhn to cooperate with his blitzkrieg tactics.

Nasser is a province with frequent rebellions. It has no right to stand here and is not trusted by the empire.

But then again, who among the new provinces and new vassal states of the Nilfgaard Empire has not experienced rebellion?
This is a decisive battle, so we must use all the weapons we can.

In preparation for the upcoming battle, Menno Cuhoon even sent out his official adjutant, who had never been close to the battlefield, to lead a troop.

The Nasser Tactical Cavalry Regiment, a provincial mercenary force that is not as elite as the Imperial Army, is still mainly responsible for the rear guard mission.

For the purpose of appeasement, Menno Kuhoon brought a young nobleman from the army who seemed to be quite important to serve as his adjutant.

Hans Capen, who had just been redeemed from the rebel army and transferred to the Central Army Group through his uncle Hans Kapen's connections, obviously did not expect that he was just a young man who came to get some military merits.

Surprisingly, with the changing situation, he ended up directly next to a big shot like Menno Cuhoon!
At this time, Hans and Henry's expressions were somewhere between the battlefield veterans and newcomers present.

Both of them had personally participated in fighting on the battlefield, but had no experience in participating in a war of this level.

"Don't be nervous, kids." The Field Marshal said kindly to the two young Nasser people, "It will be over soon."

I don’t know if this is part of the appeasement method.
-
The halfling military doctor Milo Vanderbeek inhaled the familiar smell of iodine, ammonia, alcohol and magic in the tent. He took advantage of the gap while the air here was still pure and sterile.

Because he knew that this ideal state in the medical field could not last long.

Milo van der Beek is a professor of medicine at Oxenfurt University. He is called 'Rust' because of his rusty red hair.

He looked at the operating table that was still as white as snow, and the spotless, gleaming surgical instruments. With these professional and neat arrangements, this field hospital won the respect and trust of the wounded.

His temporary staff, three women in total, were busy around the equipment.

wrong.

'Rust' shook his head.

It was a very old grandmother who looked young, and two little girls. The sorceress's name was Mattie Sodergren. He had worked with this beauty more than once.

The sorceress is a bit narcissistic and easily emotional, but her magic has been very effective so far, and she is very accomplished in anesthesia, disinfection and hemostasis.

Aurora was an apprentice priestess from the Temple of Meliteli in Elland, and Rust didn't think he had to worry about her.

Girls from temples rarely disappoint and never break down under great pressure, often turning to their faith for help at that time.

Milo didn't quite believe this, but interestingly, in his experience with his patients, this approach often worked.

The halfling turned to look at the red-haired Shani, who was also from Oxenford University like him, except that she was a student.

At this moment, the female college student is threading the suture thread into the needle hole of the curved hook suture needle.

She comes from the same place as him, but Milo Van der Beek is the most worried about her.

Shani is still a student, what can she do?
Even leaving aside the technical concerns, the most important question is, will this red-haired girl faint, abandon the surgical retractor, and fall headfirst into the open abdomen of the injured person undergoing surgery?
Human beings' ability to endure is not strong.

'Rust' thought.

But she was a college girl, without Aurora's faith to support herself, nor did she have the experience of Mattie Soderlenger, who seemed beautiful but actually had a lot of experience.

"Shani!"

"What is it, Mr. Van der Beek?"

The halfling picked up a tool and looked up to ask.

"What is this, Shani. What is it for?"

"Are you testing me?"

"Answer me, child!"

"This is a bone scraper. It is used to scrape the periosteum during amputation surgery to prevent the periosteum from bursting under the teeth. Are you satisfied? Am I qualified?"

The halfling nodded and put the instrument back in place.

Interesting. Is it fate that there are four doctors here, and all of them have red hair?

"Please follow me out, ladies," he said to his assistants, "to the front of the tent."

There were some doctors in front of the tent, enjoying their last bit of leisure time.

A muscular blacksmith was busy placing tools on a stool, ready to pry open the bent and deformed armor on the wounded man at any time.

"It will soon become a battlefield over there." Milo van der Beck said straight to the point, "and there will be rivers of blood. Then, the first wounded will be sent here. You know what to do and where you should stand. Just do it, understand?"

The halfling continued speaking without lowering his pointed hand.

"There are nearly 100,000 people over there, trying to hurt and kill each other, using every possible means. And here and in the other two field hospitals, there are a total of 12 doctors."

"We can't treat every single one of the injured, not even a fraction of them. To be honest with you, no one expects us to. But we will treat them."

"Because of some old cliché principle: Because that's why we exist. We exist because someone needs us."

The audience remained silent, and the halfling shrugged.

"We can't go beyond our capabilities, ladies," he said, calmly and gently, "but we will do our best, and nothing less."
-
"Look at what you're saying." Lincoln, the secretary of the Knights of Embers, smiled politely at Foltest and said, "Is there any time when the Knights of Embers fought that didn't exceed the limits of our capabilities?"

The King of Temeria, at this tense moment when the war was about to begin, looked deeply at the commander of this "small knight group" which currently had only forty people in place.

It was as if he could see all the hidden details in Lincoln's smile.

However, the pupil color that was obscured by magic did not move at all, so he returned empty-handed.

"If we need to create a front line and directly defeat the enemy's strongest point," Foltest said cautiously and meaningfully, "will you still answer me this way?"

Lincoln's smile remained unchanged.

People like them felt no psychological pressure in front of Foltest or any other king.

"If this is your order, we will execute it." The secretary of the Embers Knights held the hilt of the long sword at his waist, "But forgive me for being frank, Your Majesty. If you want to get some reassuring news from me..."

"With a major war imminent, this is probably not a good state of mind for a commander."

"But aren't you afraid?!" The king said sullenly, "I'm not sure at all."

"Now that things have come to this, is it time to retreat?" Lincoln was very open-minded and turned to leave the command post.

(End of this chapter)