The epic story of green monsters

Chapter 1178 Divine Art 2
After the finishing work of the siege was almost completed, Alan fell from the sky.

As the capital of Khalid Province, the city's defenses are decent, but it is still much more difficult to attack than the Thorn Fortress, which was originally operated as a fortress.

After taking the city of Khalid, the number of soldiers lost by the Northern Alliance and the Gray Dwarf army that hurriedly arrived and joined the battle in the later stage of the siege was less than 1/2 of those sacrificed at the Thorn Fortress. On the contrary, the population of captured elves in the city skyrocketed, reaching the order of 5. Together with the more than 2 before, there are now more than 7 elf captives in the hands of the Northern Alliance.

The governor of the province of Haz issued an order to clear the countryside and gather all the elves in the province into the city of Khalid. Now that the city has been captured, the residents are like turtles in a jar, with no way to escape from the cavalry corps of the Northern Army and the Gray Dwarf Army.

Except for a few strong-willed and proud elves who still resisted until their death, the rest of the elven people became lambs in the hands of the Northern Alliance in anxiety.

The coalition forces were fairly well prepared for this invasion, but with the sudden appearance of such a large number of elf captives, the supplies prepared by the coalition forces suddenly became a little stretched.

Soon after Allen stood on the city wall that was covered with traces of battle, blood and the unpleasant smell of corruption, leaders and representatives from various tribes in the North rushed out from the scattered cities as if they had been summoned and came to meet Allen on the city wall.

Looking at the young, old and weak elves in the city with their hands and feet bound by iron chains, being escorted slowly to the south by Northern warriors holding cold swords, if an elf moved slowly or deviated from the original route, a steel whip would immediately fall, and the crackling sound of the whip even drowned out the elf's wailing.

Faced with such brutal means, the remaining elves looked pale and hopeless, but they did not dare to show any resistance or struggle. Where was their former proud and elegant image?

"Don't be so rude to those elves. It makes us in the North really as barbaric and brutal as they say!!"

Seeing this scene, Alan was slightly dissatisfied and spoke to the air.

"Sir, I think we should just kill all these elves. This will greatly reduce the burden on our logistics supply!!"

The wolf leader Timothy's eyes flashed with ferocity. Relying on the close relationship between their Crow Claw and Green Field, he boldly expressed his opinion to Alan: "Of course, if anyone in our tribe wants to keep some elves for themselves, then they can choose the population themselves and take them back to their own tribe."

The other dozen or so leaders, representatives, and senior military officials had their own ideas, but most of them agreed with Timothy's opinion and nodded slightly.

In their view, in addition to the large amount of food consumed every day, the biggest hidden danger of the elves is the advantages brought by their racial talents. If they are not strictly monitored, they may rebel at any time, but this will inevitably weaken the strength of the coalition forces.

Of course, there are considerable forces behind each of the wilderness representatives present. They also covet the elves' beautiful and handsome figures and looks, hoping to gain their own benefits from them.

"I still have some use for them, so put away your evil thoughts!!"

Allen's expression was ruthless, and his direct, cold blow made the hearts of the wilderness warriors present tense.

"clear."

Albade was not present this time as he had too many things to deal with after the recent capture of two cities. Therefore, another dwarf goblin officer from the staff department wrote down Alan's request and reported it to Albade after returning to carry it out.

"What's going on over there? Why is there such a strong smell of blood and groaning sounds?"

While continuing his patrol on the city wall, Alan suddenly discovered a group of tents outside the city that was independent of the continuous military camps. Through his sharp eyes, he could vaguely see people coming in and out, seemingly very busy, and his keen ears could also hear faint groans of pain.

"That is our newly built battlefield medical clinic. Soldiers seriously injured in this war are now being treated there."

The accompanying dwarf wizard thought for a moment and quickly replied, "There are a total of 1707 seriously injured patients now, most of whom are disabled patients whose broken limbs cannot be found. They need to return to the rear to seek legendary clergy or above to cast high-level divine arts such as broken limb reconstruction, or they will become disabled and lose their combat effectiveness and be discharged from the army."

There is no other way. The powerful divine arts of regenerating severed limbs and reshaping a body out of thin air are all ninth-tier divine arts. With the current strength of the Church of the God of Food, there are not enough legendary priests and priests to fight with the army. Even if these soldiers are sent back to the rear of the northern border for treatment, they will have to wait in line because there are not enough divine spellcasters.

As for the three churches of the Oak camp headed by the Oak See, there are enough priests. However, except for the Oak See which is more supportive of the annexation plan of the North, the other two churches do not agree with Green Field or Alan's adventurous behavior this time.

Their top leaders unanimously believed that the North did not have enough strength to occupy the elven border provinces, which might anger the Elf Kingdom and shift its focus to the North. At that time, the pressure that the wilderness would face would be even greater.

After all, as the wilderness reforms have become quite effective, the Mansha Alliance and the Orc Empire have jointly launched a counterattack plan against the human coalition, which is proceeding in an orderly manner. The already loose and weak Mansha Wilderness is simply not qualified to fight on two fronts.

In addition, Allen's Church of the God of Food is now coming to the fore. Although many churches in the Temple of Nature have decided to let it go, it does not mean that they are willing to get close to the Church of the God of Food. The Oak Church has to get closer to the Church of the God of Food because of its preaching scope, but after losing the gods they serve, the number of priests and priests in the Oak Church has dropped sharply, and they do not want to put any outstanding talents in danger.

The core preaching areas of the two churches, Sprout and Ranger, are not here, so they naturally do not want to have too much involvement with this organization which is likely to become a cult in the future.

Therefore, in this expedition, the three churches only sent a part of the middle-level clergy to participate in the war, and there were no strong people above the legendary level to help.

“…Let’s go and see these brave warriors.”

Alan was silent for a moment, then he lightly paused with his powerful thighs on the city wall. He flew up more than ten meters and quickly floated towards the clinic. The strong men behind him caught up with him just a moment later.

When you enter the clinic, you are greeted by the strong scent of herbs. The medical staff coming and going are mostly nature druids, and the priests can only serve as assistants.

Although this world has the most effective healing magic, it is at the cost of stimulating the potential of the creature itself, and has significant side effects on the subsequent improvement of its individual strength and physical body. Therefore, in non-war times, everyone avoids using healing magic as much as possible.

Everyone in the North was familiar with Alan's face, so when he just stepped into the clinic, countless pairs of eyes looked up at him excitedly. The other strong men behind him became background boards at this time, and no one cared.

"Sir Allen!!"

The head of the clinic was Zelda, a female troll druid from Snomia. She seemed a little at a loss at the moment, constantly tidying up her cotton and linen clothes that were covered with blood, vomit and even feces. Her rough hands rubbed back and forth on the dirty clothes for a few times before she mustered up the courage to salute Alan.

“Thank you for your hard work, kids!!”

A calm and majestic voice came out of Allen's mouth, and his pair of piercing tiger eyes kept looking back and forth at the medical staff and the wounded who were disturbed and walked out of the tent.

These wilderness native warriors, who are the backbone of the North, are the protagonists of this war. Without their sacrifice and dedication, the North would not have won these successive victories. In the future, they will be needed to protect the hard-earned fruits of victory.

"It's all what we should do."

Zelda, looking uneasy, stuttered as he answered Eren's words, lowering his head and beating his chest, not daring to look into Eren's majestic eyes.

More wounded soldiers and medical staff heard the noise outside and walked out of their tents to observe what was happening. When they saw the usually domineering leaders and elders of their respective tribes standing at the simple entrance of the clinic like docile sheep, following closely behind the bear goblin in front, who was wearing black scale armor and exuding an inexplicable aura, they cast their eyes at the ordinary yet heroic face of the bear goblin, and immediately surrounded him with joy, not caring about their own injuries or the tools in their hands.

It was rare for a leader or elder to care about wounded soldiers like them. In the wilderness where the strong preyed on the weak, wounded warriors like them who were greatly reduced in strength would often have a miserable end. Tribes with a little conscience might arrange some unimportant jobs for them so that they could barely support themselves, while those without conscience would simply give them a cheap subsidy or resources and send them away.

Most of the wounded in the clinic are terrified at this time, fearing that their lives will change drastically in the future. Some even refuse to cooperate with treatment and want to die as soon as possible, so as to earn some compensation for their families and descendants without becoming a burden to their families.

The sudden appearance of Alan, the well-deserved leader of the North, in the infirmary made many wounded soldiers feel relieved, at least psychologically. It seemed that the top leaders of the coalition forces had not forgotten the sacrifices of their soldiers.

"Does it still hurt?"

Alan walked along, waving to the Northern warriors around him who were looking at him with admiration and respect. Then he stopped in front of a young and immature ogre warrior, pointed at the other's arm that had been cut off at the root and bandaged, and asked with concern.

“It doesn’t hurt!!”

The young kobold warrior puffed out his chest proudly, hammered his sparsely populated chest with his remaining left hand, and answered in a decisive tone.

Alan smiled with relief, stretched out his right hand and rubbed the messy head of the kobold, and a weak and warm divine power poured into the other's body, helping him to comb out his broken body and relieve the pain of the wound caused by the violent movement.

Suddenly, an idea came to Allen's mind, and he ordered the dwarf goblin staff officer who followed him without hesitation: "Go and move 10,000 frozen corpses from the city."

"what?"

The dwarf goblin was slightly stunned, not knowing what this great leader would do with his out-of-control thinking. But then he reacted and quickly stood up and replied, "Yes!!"