Battlefield Priest's Diary

Chapter 70 Leeches and Herbs

Philip will probably never forget what happened that night.

Those black eyes, that terrifying, drowning look, and those slowly unfolding wings.

Every time he looked at the priest in black, he couldn't help but tremble.

It was a tremor from the soul.

As a result, after that night, he found himself unable to concentrate no matter what he did, and even hypnosis could not be used properly.

He's become just a guy who can only show off his rhetoric.

Having lost its greatest support, survival in the Winter Palace is extremely difficult. Not to mention the enemies lurking in the shadows, even its former "companions" will not hesitate to attack and tear it apart once they know of its weakened state.

A voice in his head told him, "Go, go, give up everything you have now, while you're still alive."

But he was unwilling to accept it, not only for the money and status he had gained, but also for his vague sense of self-esteem.

Another obsession arose in his heart, even surpassing his attachment to power and money.

"What exactly are you?! Let me see." The Frenchman practically chewed on his teeth as he said this.

"Mr. Philip, who is that person? Please tell me quickly!" The Queen pulled him aside, urging him somewhat irrationally.

After taking a deep breath, the Frenchman said softly, "It's Father Putin."

"Him?" Disappointment appeared on the Queen's face. She had discussed matters of divine magic with the black-robed priest on his very first day of arrival.

The answer we received was that the priest claimed he had no divine powers, only some knowledge of medicine.

Although the man at the kennel had acted somewhat unusually before, is there really a way to deal with the current situation?
“Are you sure Father Pugin can help?” Alexandra asked again.

The Frenchman lowered his head, concealing his gaze. "I sensed an unusual energy emanating from him; perhaps he has a solution."

At this moment, Alexei let out another painful groan, and the Queen finally made up her mind: "Go find Father Putin, quickly!"

The head maid lifted her skirt and almost ran out the door.

She stood at the door, looking around anxiously, and finally spotted the figure in black in the crowd.

"Father Pugin, please come with me!" The head maid didn't say anything more, grabbed the priest's arm, and half-dragged, half-pulled him into the house.

Anna Verubova, who had always presented herself as reserved and polite in high society, immediately caused whispers among the crowd with her unusual behavior.

Surprisingly, the head maid had quite a bit of strength in her hand. Qin Hao didn't pull his hand away until he entered the room. "Madam, please wait a moment. At least let me figure out what's going on."

"We need to calm His Highness down. Can you do that?" Time was of the essence, and the head maid, abandoning her previous haughty demeanor, got straight to the point.

At this moment, Qin Hao noticed that all the important figures in the room were focused on him, and the handkerchief in Queen Alexandra's hand was almost twisted into a pretzel.

Meanwhile, the Frenchman Philippe watched from the corner with a complicated expression.

Is this guy trying to frame me?

After quickly assessing the current situation, Qin Hao nodded slightly, "I can give it a try."

The people in the room, including the Tsar, made way for the black-clad priest to reach the bedside.

Ten-year-old Alexei had cried himself hoarse. The doctor beside him tried to restrain his hands and feet, but dared not use too much force.

“Mr. Fyodor, let me try.” The priest in black bowed, and the royal physician Fyodor Fyodorovich instinctively stepped aside.

It wasn't until he completely gave up his seat that I suddenly realized—how did he know my name?

Under the watchful eyes of the crowd, the priest in black robes slowly bent down, seemingly whispering something in the crown prince's ear.

Then something amazing happened!

Alexei, who had been crying incessantly, first stopped crying loudly, then turned into a soft whimper like a small animal, and finally fell into a deep sleep.

"Look, he's asleep!" "Incredible!" "Amazing!" Quiet exclamations came from the crowd behind them, and even the Tsar's gaze changed.

At this moment, the priest in black robes simply stood up slowly, gave up his seat again, and said to the royal physician, "Please, it is now your responsibility."

"Oh, oh, okay." The royal physician, Fyodor, only then realized what was happening and picked up the gauze and bandages in his hand.

However, the situation remained grim. Due to the lack of clotting factors, Alexei's wound continued to bleed, and pieces of red-stained gauze were thrown on the ground. Sweat began to bead on the forehead of the royal physician, Fyodor.

“Mr. Fyodor, think of something, this is causing him too much pain,” the Queen finally couldn’t help but say.

Fyodor pondered for a moment, then said in a very uncertain tone, "Your Majesty, I have recently been trying a treatment method that I hope can permanently resolve His Highness's problem, but there are certain risks involved..."

"What method? At least try it... Oh my God!" a woman exclaimed.

Fyodor used tweezers to remove a large leech from his medical kit.

Watching the constantly writhing body, the women in the room all felt something pushing upwards in their stomachs.

Qin Hao also saw this scene and couldn't help but frown.

It seems this is the leech therapy that almost killed Alex in history.

Using leeches to treat blood stasis is actually a variation of the bloodletting technique popular in Europe, both of which are treatment methods based on the theory of "humoral balance".

Doctors at the time believed that human blood was divided into "normal blood" and "corrupted blood," and that leeches could remove the corrupted blood to bring the body to a new fluid balance.

Regardless of whether this theory is correct, leeches do have a certain therapeutic effect on some bruises.

However, this is completely different from Alexei's illness. The anticoagulant factors released by the leeches would further hinder his blood from clotting, which is no different from using gasoline to put out a fire.

In the history he was familiar with, apart from the machine gun in the basement, this leech treatment was probably the closest Alexei had ever come to embracing death, so much so that it took him almost half a year to fully recover.

The situation now seems more serious. Could it be life-threatening? A thoughtful expression appeared on Qin Hao's face.

However, the empress was completely flustered at this moment. Her mouth was slightly open, as if she was about to say something.

"Wait a minute!" A voice came from behind, and Nicholas II, who had been silent all along, stepped forward.

He walked up to the priest in black and slightly raised his head. (This last Tsar was only 170cm tall.)

“Father Pugin, I noticed you've been deep in thought. Is there anything you'd like to say about my son's illness?”

The priest in black robes glanced at the leeches swimming before him, pondered for a moment, and finally spoke slowly:
“Your Majesty, I am not questioning Mr. Fyodor’s professionalism, but I do not think using leeches for treatment is a good idea.”

Upon hearing this, everyone's eyes turned to him again, and the Frenchman who had been silent all along also raised his head from the corner.

Qin Hao had actually considered this before saying it.

The historical leech treatment incidents had a very significant impact, directly resulting in a doctor being exiled to Siberia, a nurse being demoted to a monastery servant and eventually dying there, and another doctor, Karl Mendel, having his property confiscated and being expelled from the country.

Even an old lion can become extremely dangerous when its cubs are threatened, let alone Nicholas II, the last emperor with a complex temperament. If he really remains silent at this moment, and if Alexei really has a problem, it is hard to guarantee that he, who has already participated, will not be implicated. "Father, please tell me your reasons."

“Your Majesty, we—I just have a vague feeling of unease.” The priest in black did not answer directly, but instead pointed to the insects.

The next second, these grayish-white insects became unusually restless, each one constantly rolling and spinning, some even starting to spit out mucus.

Seeing such a scene, it's hard for anyone to think they are completely harmless.

Sure enough, the next second, Nicholas II turned to his royal physician, "Mr. Fyodor, are you sure this method is safe?"

“This…” Fyodor hesitated, and he said cautiously, “I’m sorry, we’ve tried all the methods we can think of, and we can only resort to some risky measures.”

"Hmm~" Nicholas II nodded noncommittally. Putting aside his abilities, he personally trusted his royal physician.

But given today's situation, he has to be cautious.

Hesitating for a moment, the emperor looked again at the black-robed priest beside him.

His miraculous feat of putting the Crown Prince to sleep was still fresh in everyone's mind.

“Father Pugin, I remember you mentioned before that you had dabbled in medicine. Although it’s a bit sudden, I still want to ask you about it.”

The Tsar turned around and looked directly at the black-robed priest before him. "What can you do about the Crown Prince's illness?"

Upon hearing this, the room fell silent. The head maid, the empress, and Grand Duke Nikolayevich all believed that the Tsar was overly anxious about his son's illness and had begun to resort to desperate measures.

For ten years, a full ten years, the whole of Russia searched for the best doctors in Europe in search of the sole heir to the Normanov dynasty.

British, French, Italian, German, Austrian, and even doctors from the snowy regions of China tried various methods to treat the Crown Prince.

But without exception, they all ended in failure. What could someone who claimed to only have a "slight" understanding of medicine possibly do?

Even though he did have some amazing performances before.

But a second later, the Asian priest with black hair and a black robe fell silent.

About ten seconds later, he looked up again and said, "I can't guarantee that my method will work."

! ! ! ! !

Everyone wore expressions of disbelief, while the Queen excitedly stepped forward and grabbed the black-robed priest's hand in a flustered manner.

“Father Putin! You mean you have a way?! Really?!”

The Tsar and Tsarina were emotional, while Qin Hao was also thinking rapidly.

Alexei's physical health was arguably the Normanov dynasty's greatest weakness and variable, but if properly utilized, it could become a stepping stone to his goal.

Perhaps it was good luck, but he happened to hold the trump card that could change the situation.

The priest in black unconsciously rubbed the cross with his hand.

His silence, however, was interpreted differently by the Queen: "Father, we will try our best to meet your request. If you can cure Alexei's illness, we can even have the Holy Episcopal Church appoint you..."

“Let me speak,” Nicholas II interrupted his wife, lest she say something inappropriate for the occasion.

Then the Tsar turned around and asked in a tone that was almost a suggestion, "Father, please understand a mother's feelings. If you have any concerns, please speak up."

After a moment's thought, the priest in black robes said in a deep voice, "Your Majesty, my methods may differ somewhat from conventional approaches."

"Would that be more outrageous than using insects?" the Tsar retorted.

"It won't always be effective."

"As long as the immediate problem can be solved, that's fine."

“I’m not even a doctor.”

"I hereby appoint you as the royal physician."

After the two exchanged questions, the priest in black robes nodded slightly. "Your Majesty, I sense your sincerity. In that case, I will give it a try."

After speaking, he slowly approached the Crown Prince with the cross in his hand, placing his fingertips on the other's wrist as if trying to discern something.

"What is he doing?" the Queen asked in a low voice to the person beside her.

"Your Majesty, this seems to be a traditional Chinese medical practice. I came across it during my travels. It's very mysterious, but sometimes it has miraculous effects." The royal physician, Fyodor, reported earnestly from the side, unaware that the black-clad priest was using the wrong fingers.

After gesturing for a while, Qin Hao withdrew his hand, looked up and asked, "Excuse me, is there a grove of trees nearby?"

“Of course, there’s a large area behind the camp,” the head maid replied from the side.

"Please take me there; I need to collect some necessary materials."

The head maid led the people to the woods outside the village, where the priest in black robes hurriedly arrived. The Easterner took out a cross, bent down from time to time to smell the damp soil, casually broke off a branch, and crushed some leaves of unknown species.

"Father, what are you looking for? I'll have someone come with me," the head maid said, bowing slightly and speaking in the most polite tone.

"Please don't come any closer." The black-robed priest said sternly. "My skills are not yet fully developed; you will interfere with me!"

The head maid hurriedly took two steps back, leading her people to create some distance.

After avoiding the gazes of several people, Qin Hao pulled out the cross, pressed the mechanism on it, and a blue pill fell into his palm—this was the special medicine Stella had given him to treat hemophilia.

Although it cannot be cured, according to the instructions, it can greatly suppress the clinical symptoms of hemophilia in a short period of time.

Because the medicine was prepared for emergency use and the stockpile was not large, Qin Hao did not intend to hand it over directly.

The mysterious herbal medicine of the East provides a good cover.

Small twigs, broken petals, and unidentified wild grasses were gathered together, and it actually looked quite convincing.

Next, we need to give the real medicine to...

.........

There was a slight mishap.

The pill in his hand was harder than he had expected. Since there were other people behind him, Qin Hao could only use a very strange posture to crush the pill by turning his back.

From the perspective of the head maid in the distance, the priest in black robes was holding a cross, standing up and bending down from time to time, as if he were concentrating his mind or gathering strength.

A gust of autumn wind swept by, stirring up the leaves that were dancing all around. Father Pugin's robe billowed in the wind, fluttering and winding through the jungle like a black curtain.

Plop!
Plop!
Unidentified birds flew high in the jungle.

It looked as if they were performing some kind of special ritual.

(End of this chapter)