Astartes of the Bear School

Chapter 1998 1970. Brahma's Blood Curse
As the inexplicable madness gradually spread, there was also the already cruel and efficiency-driven medical methods of the field doctors who came out of the volcano mansion.

Field hospitals, which should be places for healing and saving lives, are becoming increasingly sinister and terrifying in the demigod alliance.

Perhaps people's opinions affected the work, and the place did indeed become increasingly gloomy.

The wounded soldiers' cries of pain were continuous, but they were all weak and feeble, barely able to shout loudly, more like painful sobs.

Their bodies lay on rows of makeshift beds, the stench of blood permeating the beds and the ground.

The stench came not only from the continuously flowing blood, but also from the wounded soldiers' bodies and deep within their bodies.

After all, the battlefield medics only used the merciful short sword to cut their spines, temporarily stopping the pain from reaching the brain by paralyzing them.

But those wounds that can't be treated will still worsen and rot.

Prayers about healing and wounds are rare and valuable resources, often prioritized for use on the front lines.

Many of them were injured after prayers saved them on the battlefield.

The wounded soldiers stared wide-eyed in pain, their eyes yellowish and bloodshot, looking like dead fish that had been brought ashore.

The blood flies, attracted by the stench of blood and flesh, buzzed and landed on their soft, slippery eyeballs.

Even so, these people kept their eyes wide open, stubbornly staring into the dark corner of the field hospital.

In the dimly lit corners where firelight was scarce, the flames seemed to create an atmosphere rather than provide illumination.

The tents of the field hospital were covered with splattered blood, which had turned black and smelled foul. Under the flickering firelight, it looked even more terrifying and eerie.

The field medics gathered together.

The leader was a field medic who was no different from the others.

He wore a long white robe with gray patterns, gloves, a scarf around his neck, a headscarf, and a mask. He was dressed entirely in pale white.

They were wrapped up tightly, showing a rudimentary form of hygiene and safety awareness. However, at the same time, their clothes were visibly stained with blood.

There were drops on the gloves, on the clothes, and even on the plaster mask.

The bloodstains made their pale skin look unhygienic, and instead sent chills down one's spine.

The only thing that distinguished the leader from the other doctors was the amulet he wore around his neck.

It was a silhouette of a battlefield medic, holding a talisman shaped like a short sword.

It was also stained with blood, which sent chills down one's spine.

"Cursed blood! Fragrant cursed blood!"

The leading field medic, facing his group of colleagues, cheered softly with a smile.

He clasped his hands together in front of his chest and rubbed them together. His enthusiastic manner made him look like a salesman about to close a deal.

The leader cheered in hushed tones, while a group of field medics also stirred with excitement.

Beneath the white mask, eager eyes were fixed on the leader.

As expected, the leader of the field medics, while rubbing his hands together, suddenly twisted his wrist.

A bright red bell, so bright it looked as if it might drip blood at any moment, appeared between his two fingers and was shown to the many field medics.

Almost the instant the bell appeared, the restlessness that had been faintly spreading among the field medics vanished.

Everyone's attention seemed to be drawn to this tiny bead.

But in the blink of an eye, the bell disappeared into the leader's hands.

"Master Fan Lei!"

Some of the field medics, who had been staring at the bell beads with their eyes wide open, even cried out involuntarily after they could no longer see them.

But then, after meeting different eyes under the same white mask, the little commotion automatically quieted down.

"I know, I know everything."

Amid the incessant sobs of the wounded, Van Lei chatted softly and warmly, like a neighborly friend.

You couldn't tell at all of the charisma he had displayed just moments before, which silenced people with a mere glance.

“I know everyone is fascinated by cursed blood. But it’s truly pathetic and lamentable. Not everyone can withstand the power of cursed blood, right? You’ve all seen what happened to those who couldn’t handle it.”

When Van Lei spoke, he spoke in a gentle and persuasive manner, causing people to unconsciously remain quiet.

The power of border regions is very attractive, since the power in this land is basically derived from a certain belief or law.

Power itself carries the thread of faith.

Those who accept power are destined to be drawn to the faith behind it. Those who possess faith beforehand will almost always naturally generate power corresponding to its attributes.

The battlefield medics, through prolonged and extensive exposure to cursed blood, have already been deeply affected by its power, both mentally and physically. To put it another way… can a normal human being truly capable of spontaneously quitting drug addiction?
The power of the borderlands, whether it comes from the golden tree, fire, or blood, once you are tainted by it, you are already a believer.

However, being influenced or attracted by the power of cursed blood is very different from directly subjecting the body to the cursed blood.

“I’ve told you this many, many times,” Van Lei said in that familiar voice, but the words spoken in that familiar tone sent chills down one’s spine. “I was among the first to receive the cursed blood, and of my batch, I was the only one who succeeded.”

"So, my comrades. I know you are drawn to that sweet, cursed blood, but you must not be impatient. You are far from being able to bear it. For now, serve our master. After all..."

As he spoke, Van Lei once again brought the bright red, glistening bell to his fingertip, showing it to the field medics.

The field medics, as if by unspoken agreement, looked at each other with fervent eyes and said in unison, "Noble blood is proof of love!"
"Yes, our master loves us!"

As he spoke, Van Lei exclaimed with great delight.

"Then..." a voice among the field medics asked tentatively, filled with anticipation, "Is it tomorrow?"

“Of course, it’s tomorrow.” Van Lei nodded without hesitation.

This immediately drew gasps of surprise and anticipation.

Serve your master, and you will be granted noble blood. The faster you serve, the faster the noble blood will flow into your body.

Therefore, although the task was dangerous, no one backed down at this moment; on the contrary, everyone was eager to get started.

"Alright!" Van Lei clapped his hands. "Let's begin!"

He took the lead and walked ahead, followed by a line of field medics, looking just like an attending physician leading a group of interns on rounds.

But this was not a clean and tidy hospital; instead, it was a foul-smelling and gloomy military tent.

They weren't respectable doctors who treated the sick and maintained good hygiene; they were a group of executioners covered in blood and wearing white masks.

Rows of wounded soldiers lay on dirty, messy beds.

Their wide eyes were filled with hatred and fear, but they could only watch helplessly as the field medics walked towards them.

After all, their paralysis was caused by the field medics themselves.

Van Lei ignored the angry or evasive looks in the eyes of the wounded.

They simply tore off their coverings, exposing the deeply festering wounds.

The bright red bell-shaped bead was on his hand, and this time, blood was actually dripping from it...

Before long, the sound of people putting on armor could be heard from the eerie field hospital, and there were quite a few of them.

One by one, the wounded knights, who should have been paralyzed and waiting for more medical resources to be available for treatment, filed out of the tents.

These wounded soldiers were selected from a wide range of sources.

Some came from the Volcano Palace, some from Nymgford, and some from the Weeping Peninsula under Nymgford's jurisdiction.

Therefore, the sudden reappearance of these soldiers, who should have been paralyzed in field hospitals, in the military camp did not cause much of a stir at first.

Of course, this won't work if it drags on too long; it'll expose them. But right now... heh, does the demigod alliance still have time?
Thinking to himself, Van Lei let out a hearty laugh from behind his mask.

The field medic affected by the cursed blood only longed for his body to be able to receive it. But he, the lucky one who had already received the cursed blood, had essentially become a devout believer in this power under its influence.

He fervently identified with and followed the faith of the Mother of Truth.

The thought of what would happen tomorrow—blood flowing everywhere and splattering everywhere—made his heart tremble.

The few hundred knights who were just injected with cursed blood tonight are nothing compared to the fact that ever since the demigod alliance came to the walls of Rodel to begin the siege, he has used his position to give 'gifts' to many knights.

It's just that some of them went 'appropriately' crazy and showed it to everyone in the military camp, while others never really broke out.

They could make the knights of Nymgford go mad in public every time, while the knights of the Volcano Mansion would only ravage it in secret. Controlling this madness was just basic operation.

After one night, the demigod alliance continued their siege of the city walls as usual.

There was nothing unusual; everything seemed like a replay of the past few months.

As the sunlight gradually dimmed, the enormous moon began to appear on the branches of the golden tree.

As dusk approached, the demigod alliance withdrew its forces, leaving the once-ravaged land empty, and returned to its camps to rest.

In the distance, the camp of the Holy Tree Legion remained undisturbed, except for a small squad of Corrupted Knights who, as usual, observed the battlefield from the edge. They would later return to the Holy Tree camp and report the battle situation to the Valkyrie.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the battlefield, hundreds of Rodel knights had already lined up on the back of a small hill, ready to go.

Unlike the demigod alliance and the Holy Tree Legion, who were already accustomed to the rhythm of the battlefield and showed no abnormalities.

The anxiety and tension within this unit were palpable.

A small hillside, like two different worlds.

(End of this chapter)