Kays Translations
Just another Isekai Lover~
Chapter 62: The Medical Clinic
The wounded were swiftly carried away, and other militia quickly filled in Kadir’s position. The situation on the city wall soon stabilized.
Although they were caught off guard at first, everyone adapted quickly and figured out effective ways to respond. The vast majority of the undead creatures were kept at bay below the wall, with only a few posing any threat to those on top.
Even when the undead managed to climb up, they were either immediately eliminated by the knights or knocked away by Lusha, who was patrolling and providing support.
Overall, the militia and the lizardmen forces were primarily responsible for suppressing the undead forming human towers below, while the knights and gunners focused on killing enemies from a distance.
With such coordination, the number of undead continued to decrease steadily. This defense operation could be considered a success.
The medical clinic was set up near the northern city wall and, during the winter defense period, was operated by the church, which had stationed clergy members there.
In previous years, the wounded brought in for treatment around this time were mostly hired adventurers. They often disobeyed orders and ended up injured by undead attacks.
While knights might be glory seekers, at least they followed commands. The adventurers, on the other hand, were purely motivated by money and acted in their own interest. They could only serve as auxiliary forces and could rarely be relied upon for coordinated battle efforts.
But this time, those being brought in for treatment were first-time militia fighters.
There weren’t many of them, and most had only sustained minor injuries—indicating that the defenses on the northern wall were holding well and that they had successfully endured the first wave of attacks.
Seeing this, Theresa felt somewhat relieved.
To be honest, she had been very worried when she first heard the horns blaring from the north—especially concerned for Irwin.
However, as a high-ranking cleric skilled in divine magic, Theresa had to remain at the medical clinic to heal the wounded and couldn’t go to the front lines herself.
As the holy light faded, Theresa retracted her hands and looked up at the wounded soldier before her.
“The treatment is complete. The injury on your hand has healed.”
The militia member blushed and quickly averted his gaze.
“Oh! Is that so?”
He then stood up from his seat and tested the movement of his formerly injured hand.
Confirming that it was fine, the militia member bowed gratefully to Theresa.
“Thank you, teacher—uh, I mean, Priestess.”
He had mistaken the moment for one of their literacy training sessions and blurted out “teacher” by habit.
Theresa smiled gently.
“No need to thank me. This is my duty. You stood up and fought for Bianshu Town—if anything, I should be thanking you.”
Hearing the word “battle,” the militia member immediately thought of the continuing fight on the wall, and his expression turned serious.
“I must get back quickly. I’ll be leaving now. Thank you again, Priestess!”
After expressing his thanks once more, he hurried out of the medical clinic and ran toward the city wall.
Watching him disappear into the distance, Theresa thought to herself:
Lord Owen’s training was truly effective. In just over a month, he had turned these people into outstanding soldiers who were willing to fight for Bianshu Town.
Not long after that soldier had left, two more members of the militia came in carrying another injured comrade who appeared to be in much worse shape.
One of them, a short-statured militia, shouted as soon as he entered:
“Someone help! This guy—”
“Someone help! His stomach’s been torn open!”
Several clerics rushed over at once.
Theresa approached, her brows furrowed tightly.
“Quick! Put him on the bed!”
“Whoa—beautiful teach—uh, Priestess!”
Kadir, flustered by Theresa’s unexpected presence, fumbled through his greetings and made several corrections in a row.
“Less talking, more moving!”
Theresa ordered sharply.
The two quickly carried the wounded man to a clean white bed. His blood instantly stained the sheets red.
The injury was far too severe—only Theresa was capable of healing it. The other clerics’ magic wouldn’t be strong enough.
They removed the man’s leather armor and clothes, revealing a horrifying wound on his abdomen, with a section of his intestines hanging out.
Two novice clerics immediately turned away, unable to stomach the sight. One even ran outside, holding back vomit.
Theresa, however, remained calm.
She had seen all kinds of injuries while studying at Eastern Rising Fortress and during her further training in the Holy Nation of Galen.
“Help me… save me…”
The wounded soldier was still conscious. Blood foamed at his lips, but he continued to beg for his life, eyes filled with desperation.
He reached out feebly, trying to grab one last hope.
“Don’t worry. We’ll do everything we can to save you.”
Theresa reassured him.
Then she turned to the two clerics beside her.
“You two—help me put his intestines back in. I’m preparing to cast healing.”
“Yes, ma’am!”
They sprang into action—one gently lifted the exposed intestines and carefully tucked them back into the abdominal cavity. The other pressed above the wound, trying to stem the bleeding.
After repositioning the organs, they covered the wound with a clean cloth to reduce blood loss.
Theresa finished her prayer and raised her hands. A white holy light shone down on the man’s abdomen.
Kadir stepped aside to watch, not leaving right away.
Lucky guy… getting healed by a beautiful priestess… No! Why am I envying someone with a torn-up gut?!
He shook his head furiously to drive out the ridiculous thought. He definitely didn’t want to be gutted by undead—he might not be so lucky to survive.
“We should head back. The battle isn’t over yet.”
Said one of the teammates.
“You’re right. We’ve brought him here—his fate is up to the gods now. Let’s go.”
Kadir nodded, and the two of them quietly left the clinic.
Time passed. Eventually, the badly wounded soldier on the bed fell still.
A cleric came to check and confirmed he was still breathing and his heart was beating. He had simply fallen into a deep sleep.
Theresa finally breathed a sigh of relief. As long as he didn’t die during treatment, everything else could be managed.
She concentrated again and resumed the healing spell. The wound needed to be fully closed as soon as possible.
After some time, the bleeding stopped. The cloth covering his stomach, now soaked in blood, was removed.
Meanwhile, several lightly wounded soldiers had come in and were treated by other clerics skilled in faith magic.
Eventually, the treatment ended. A long, terrifying scar remained on the soldier’s abdomen—but his life had been saved by Theresa.
His chest rose and fell steadily. The pain had left his face. He was finally resting peacefully.
Wiping the sweat from her brow, Theresa let out a long breath of relief.
“Well done.”
One of the clerics said to her.
“You too.”
Theresa replied with a smile and a nod.
The seriously wounded man would now need proper rest. Theresa stepped out and looked toward the city wall through a window.
He was the first severely wounded soldier since winter began. She silently prayed that there wouldn’t be more like him.
BOOM!
Suddenly, a deafening explosion came from the north, even causing the ground to tremble slightly.
Theresa’s expression tensed.
She knew that sound well—it was an explosive detonation.
It meant something had gone terribly wrong on the wall—bad enough to warrant using explosives.
Please let everyone be okay, she prayed.