kingdom of nations

Chapter 174 Bad News or...

The breeze was warm, and the sun was bright enough. Even for Yalasa Road, where rain is rare, today was a rare good day.

Baldwin was somewhat embarrassed, as he had to stand almost naked in the center of the room under the watchful eyes of the two doctors.

He had to accept this scrutiny—Hippocrates' theory of temperament and humors seems quite absurd and laughable to later generations, but you must also admit that when humanity was still in a primitive stage, this theory can still be said to be a great leap forward for mankind to break away from the worship of nature and gods and to look at itself in the opposite direction. Even if it is very simple, crude, crooked and not very coherent, without this foundation, modern medicine would be like a castle in the air, and it would be difficult to build it out of nothingness.

In the 2nd century AD, Galen, a famous physician of ancient Rome, inherited and developed the humoral theory of Hippocrates, a famous physician of ancient Greece. He believed that humans have four temperaments: those with more blood are enthusiastic and intense; those with more phlegm are calm, composed, and good at thinking and calculating; those with more black bile are more persevering but also more extreme; and those with more yellow bile are easily angered and extremely stubborn.

Following them, doctors and priests deduced that once a person's temperament changed, it indicated that the four humors in his body were out of balance. They then judged whether there was too much blood, bile, or phlegm based on the person's behavior. Finally, they would observe the stars, complexion, and urine to determine the condition and provide treatment.

This sounds like a joke, but in fact, emotions do cause changes in physical condition. In this respect, the theory is correct. Intense emotions are often harmful to the body, while peaceful emotions can help wounds heal faster and slow down or alleviate symptoms.

Therefore, Chiraclius had warned Baldwin very early on that he should try to keep his emotions stable under any circumstances, as extreme joy, anger, or sorrow could easily worsen his condition.

The terrible traces that spread overnight seemed to prove Chiraclius's words.

To monitor Baldwin's condition, Chirac used a very ingenious method—marking grids on Baldwin's body. He used a soft measuring tape to draw grids on Baldwin's chest, back, legs, and arms, with each grid about an inch in size. After each measurement, he could simply check the previous records to see if any new spots or rashes had appeared.

After the measurement was completed, Chirac's expression became so serious it was almost frightening.

Scars, rashes, and patches seemed to spread to more areas in an instant, expanding to about one-fifth of the original area. Don't underestimate this one-fifth; since Cesar painstakingly prescribed and prepared the ointment for Baldwin several years ago, the new growth had only amounted to one or two squares.

Moreover, Baldwin's numbness in his left hand became increasingly noticeable.

Meeting Heracles's slightly displeased gaze, Baldwin smiled apologetically. He knew his teacher, as well as his friends and brothers, valued his health more than his own. He also knew that the best way to deal with Abigail's provocation was to let him bark there alone, without paying him any attention.

But he also knew that Abigail had not only his father Bohemond behind him, but also his sister Hibir—his sister Hibir was the person he was closest to in Arazarus after Amalric I left them.

Their birth mother, Countess Jaffa, is not here. Queen Mother Maria is in Holy Cross Castle. If she were to move into Holy Cross Castle, it would inevitably create a situation where the two kings are at odds.

She did not want to do this, as it would only cause more trouble for her son, King Arazarus.

Baldwin's tolerance and love for his sister are evident to all. In return, he hoped that his sister would reciprocate accordingly. However, things did not go as planned. In particular, he discovered that although Hibyl's conspiracy was clumsy, it contained more contempt for him, as if mocking him—that he was still a child who could not leave his sister.

This realization caused him immense pain, to the point that for the first time he allowed his emotions to control his actions, abandoning Holy Cross Castle and Arrassa Road without hesitation, and heading straight for Bethlehem.

Cesar gently nudged Chirac's elbow, hoping his teacher wouldn't be so harsh. He could be calm and composed now, but that was because his body didn't contain the soul of a young boy.

He was much older than Baldwin and had already entered society. Moreover, in his world, people received hundreds, thousands, or even tens of thousands of times more information from the outside world than they did here.

No matter how mature Baldwin is, he is still only fifteen years old. He will turn sixteen next February. As a child who still longs for family affection, it is not surprising that he made such a mistake, especially since he made amends later.

With his help, Baldwin got dressed again. Heraclius shook his head at them and reluctantly put away the records: "Let it not happen again, Your Majesty. You should know that not everyone can get what they want, even if you are the king." He didn't continue, but the punishment was still unavoidable.

The next day, a priest brought over the so-called holy water. It was not clear at all; it was very murky and scalding hot. Even before you got close, you could smell a sour and bitter odor.

Baldwin asked incredulously, "Do I have to drink this?"

“Drink it,” Cesar said. The ointment alone was no longer enough; Baldwin now needed to take the liquid medicine once a day to stop the disease from progressing.

"Do I have to keep drinking?"

“You’ll need to drink it for at least a month,” Cesar said sympathetically. “And if you want to consolidate the effects, it might take another year.”

“One year,” Baldwin repeated in despair, “and another year of drinking.”

He glanced at the size of the cup, estimating that it was impossible to swallow it in one gulp, and his expression became even more terrified.

But at least he remembered what he shouldn't ask about? It was, of course, holy water, always holy water.

"May I rinse my mouth? Or have a piece of candy?"

“No.” This is Sophora flavescens. Cesar had managed to get some from a few Saracen merchants with great difficulty. Although he was certain that this was Sophora flavescens, he knew nothing about how it had been processed. He had only tested it on rabbits, goats, and patients to confirm that it would not cause any harm to people and that it could indeed help curb the development of leprosy.

However, he didn't know if drinking water or eating other things after taking it would affect its effectiveness. Given its efficacy, which was already negligible, Cesar didn't intend to add any unnecessary variables.

The priest brought the holy water and then left. Only the two of them remained in the room. Baldwin stared intently at the large silver cup, holding it in his hands, and then took a deep breath—clearly, he intended to drink it all at once.

Unfortunately, the "holy water" was somewhat viscous and scalding hot. He let out a muffled burp as he swallowed the first sip, but Cesar reacted quickly, pressing down on the back of his head with one hand and the cup with the other, forcefully suppressing the instinctive urge to vomit.

Baldwin felt as if the medicine in the cup and the medicine in his stomach had come alive. They were like two armies fighting in his mouth, throat, and stomach, one desperately trying to rush in, the other frantically trying to rush out. He could feel Cesar's hand gripping the back of his head tightly, and he wanted to tell him to stop immediately—this was far too disrespectful to the king! But Cesar used his experience from his time rotating through pediatrics, skillfully suppressing and applying force, forcing Baldwin to drink the medicine in the cup.

Although some spilled, more than half of it had been drunk—Chiraclius should have remembered to add the correct amount when preparing the potion—the quantity was sufficient.

As soon as Cesar let go, the silver cup fell straight to the ground with a loud thud, then rolled into the corner. Baldwin, clutching his throat and with his eyes rolled back, uncontrollably slid off the chair to the floor.

If anyone had witnessed this scene, they would probably have thought that Cesar had forced him to drink poison instead of holy water.

Alas, all I can say is that Baldwin would rather drink poison than touch this potion again. The thought of having to drink it for a month or even a year made him feel utterly hopeless.

"Even hell's lava wouldn't taste any worse than this!"

After a long while, he groaned and let Cesar drag him up and back to the bed. He couldn't sit in a chair anymore; he couldn't sit up at all.

Fortunately, although the medicine tasted disgusting and bitter, it didn't cause any nausea after drinking it. He stared at the ceiling with his mouth agape, like a fish that had been out of water for a long time.

César was both amusing and helpless.

Unfortunately, Baldwin may have to endure this hardship for a long time until he manufactures the syringe and extracts the injection solution.

The syringe was given to Haredi in Bethlehem, while he was in Damascus, where he commissioned a complete set of floral distillation equipment in the name of his sister Natia.

Indeed, by this time, both in Europe and Syria, distillation technology had become quite advanced.

The earliest stills were invented by the Isaacs, and took shape around the first or second century AD. By the eighth or ninth century AD, Saracen artisans had already begun using stills to distill flowers to extract nectar and essential oils. Today, on the Apennine Peninsula, people are using stills to distill light spirits, and the spirits they distill have reached at least 40 to 50 degrees.

Because, in the poets' descriptions, pouring wine into a fire makes the flames burn more fiercely, rather than extinguish them.

Therefore, in addition to more precise and cleaner syringes, Cesar also needed to distill purer alcohol and then extract the active ingredients from the drug using the ethanol extraction method. Throughout the process, he also had to avoid the omnipresent eyes and ears of the church.

He didn't know how long the whole process would take—it could be so long it would be despairing—but from Harry, he discovered a misconception of his own: he hadn't yet adapted to the other set of rules that governed this world—a world with extraordinary powers, just like Harry, who could judge whether the inner wall of a hollow needle as thin as a hair was smooth enough, and could even use a finer, harder metal wire to polish it.

Among these many blessed people, some possess unique abilities that others may consider insignificant. However, if these abilities are applied in ways they never imagined, they could potentially create even greater miracles.

Finding these people may also require time, money, and power, but it is far better than César struggling to find them all by himself.

I just hope that person, those few people, could also be an Isaac.

While this thinking is indeed somewhat selfish, how could Cesar trust Haredi to use him? Wasn't it simply because he was an Isaac? Christians hated Isaacs even more than Saracens. If an Isaac dared to approach a Christian and expose the sins of another Christian, especially a knight, lord, or nobleman, the Christian would surely laugh and, for the sake of the huge joke he had made, drag him out and hang him.

But if the other party is a Christian—Cesar wouldn't dare take that risk.

"What are you thinking about?" Baldwin finally recovered and came to his side, grinning.

Although his eyes kept glancing at the kettle on the table, he refrained from pouring himself a glass of water and drinking it down to wash away the bitterness in his mouth.

"When can I return to Bethlehem?"

He sent Haredi back to Bethlehem not only because he would be under too much scrutiny while working there, but also because he might face additional questioning and harassment.

Even when Witt was only half an Isaac, he faced ostracism and contempt. Of course, his innate malice was perhaps the biggest reason. But without a doubt, this became irrefutable proof. As some have said, even with only half the blood, he was still an Isaac, just as a drop of ink can pollute an entire cup of water.

If Witt was like this, one can only imagine how pure Haredi, the Isaac, was.

However, he was at Holyrood Castle while Harry was in Bethlehem. This meant that when Harry encountered problems, they needed someone to deliver messages so they could communicate. It wasn't a matter of the security of letters; the lack of face-to-face communication made problem-solving exceptionally slow and prone to errors.

“You’ll have to wait, until you’re better, until I’m better,” Baldwin said.

This wait lasted a full seven months.

Cesar was finally able to return to Bethlehem. To his delight, Haredi had made great progress in making the syringe. The syringe he showed Cesar was already capable of drawing and injecting medicine. There might be some leakage, but it was not a big deal.

Natia also brought out distilled spirits. As a noblewoman, her artisans' handling of the stills did not attract much attention, as both liqueurs and spirits were necessities for nobles to enjoy themselves.

While Cesar was being tested for alcohol, news that was hard to tell whether it was bad news or good news reached Bethlehem.

Princess Hibil gave birth to a stillborn child.

(End of this chapter)