Noticing this, he pretended to be indifferent and checked the headless corpses of the barbarians. Although they had just died, they had already turned into mummies.
At least they won't rot now.
Such eerie and formidable power stirred Gene's desire for authority.
If he could master this power...
On the other hand, the Barbarian Plunderers regrouped after escaping, but compared to the previous team of over a hundred, only about twenty remained—those who ran fast; the slower ones were eliminated.
They were now completely devoid of the arrogance and arrogance they had shown before, leaving only resentnt and anger.
"Damn Imperial Wizards!"
"Why didn't they dare confront us directly?"
"Damn sneaky Imperials!"
Among the curses and venting, there were naturally those who were lost and confused too.
"What do we do now?"
"Now you're asking what we should do? Why didn't you listen when I warned you repeatedly?" The archer, not one to tolerate nonsense, erupted imdiately, "If even a few of you had listened to , we wouldn't be slaughtered like pigs by the Imperials now!"
With this statent, a heavy atmosphere began to spread, and the escapee barbarians fell into silence.
If they had listened to the archer earlier and assigned a few to keep watch, they wouldn't have been taken by surprise by the returning Imperials, but everyone was too focused on looting.
During the archer's second plea to abandon the loot and flee into the wilds, nobody believed him; instead, they questioned if he was after the supplies himself.
In the end, they were left behind for things they couldn't carry, and only a few managed to escape.
Even if the archer hadn't intercepted the cavalry to support their escape, they might not have gotten away.
The archer had never experienced the crushing defeat of the Barbarian Alliance Army by Bastia years ago, so he couldn't understand it then.
But now, he understood at least sothing; they were but a loose sand...
No matter how much the barbarians liked to boast, when scolded at this point, none dared to brag about taking the fight back.
They seed to finally understand that they no longer had the strength to confront, aning those supplies were entirely beyond their reach now.
The silence of the people brought forth a chilling calm from the archer, "Unless we can kill them, we will be the sha of the Mountains."
This ti, no one questioned him; looting supplies was basically impossible now. All they could do was one thing: revenge!
...
Hamlet, leper camp.
Inside the once independent tent used for treating Baldwin, Lance, Paracelsus, and Grendel were having a consultation.
But this ti the patient was not Baldwin, but a frail leper, who volunteered to be the first test subject to assess the effects of the dication.
"I reiterate, this treatnt plan carries risks. Are you aware of this?"
Wearing a mask, hands in sewn leather gloves, draped in a rough coat—not white unfortunately—
Even though Lance was immune to most diseases, he still followed protocol.
"I'm ready..." The patient on the bed, speaking in weak and hoarse words, showed no fear.
After being tornted by illness for so long, death no longer seed as terrifying.
"Begin."
Lance turned to nod at the two, Grendel ignited the srizing Fragrance, collecting the gas with a glass cover, then fitted the leather mask, similar to a gas mask, over the patient to inhale.
Lance had previously been troubled by the lack of anesthetic for surgery and had discussed this extensively with Grendel.
Finally, they resorted to a fragrance confiscated from the heretics, which Grendel deciphered and adjusted with her herbology skills, resulting in a milder version less harmful to the human body.
Through extensive human experintation, the dosage was determined, although the process was incomplete, they made do for now.
It was all about finding the right feeling.
Bear in mind, heretical concoctions were usually created by the ancestors, and Lance had no idea how much stuff he had 'borrowed' from the ancestors, but he justified it with, "I'm the heir, it's all mine eventually, what's wrong with taking so?".
After inhaling, the patient soon slipped into unconsciousness.
Beside him, Paracelsus impatiently jabbed the needle in.
The needle, due to processing precision issues, was thick like an animal's, leaving a significant wound.
Even though boiling and disinfection were employed for reuse, these instrunts weren't plentiful in the town, nor were they affordable for one-ti use.
Hamlet currently lacked the capability to produce such dical instrunts, and these glass and silver composite syringes were bought from Totnes.
The diluted secretion was injected into the patient's body, and by logic, a second injection with a decomposition solution should follow.
But Lance held off, using the power of [Flesh Reconstruction] to observe the changes within the body.
The diseased regions in the patient's body, mainly the skin, mucous mbranes, and nerves, had been damaged by viruses, leading to further severe complications as the immune system could no longer fend off more viral invasions.
The patient's body, after enduring years of torture, was left in shambles, and the immune system was breached long ago during the onset of complications.
However, after the dication was injected, his body began exhibiting an unusual reaction, as if stimulated sohow.
Lance realized his guess was right, the dication indeed involved the immune system.
Through sensation in several immune organs, the patient's barely surviving immune system suddenly beca active, even going out of control, demonstrating a far superior immune capability, dissolving the pathological flesh.
If the dication hadn't been diluted, the patient might soon dissolve into a puddle of blood.
At that mont, Lance finally understood that no virus, fungus, or bacteria could withstand the full onslaught of the immune system, and the real limitation was actually the fragile human body.
But why hadn't the self-healing ability manifested?
"No, the patient hasn't shown that self-healing ability; our assumption was wrong." Lance urged Paracelsus, "Administer the second drug!"
Without a word, the doctor grabbed another syringe and jabbed it in; the surface was ulcerated and diseased, so they didn't bother finding a vein, just injected directly.
Upon injection of the second potion, Lance focused on his body, and indeed, there was a change; that self-healing ability appeared, beginning to constantly generate new cells.
This phenonon exceeded the normal human levels, as the new flesh filled the dissolved areas, but these were not diseased.
Yet such intense combat raised the body temperature, even beyond the brain's capacity.
And Lance began physically cooling it down with water, trying to suppress the escalating temperature.
"I was wrong, it should be so substance resulting from the secretion and flesh combination that's key to promoting regeneration."
"Then why didn't the first injection react, logically..."
The three continued discussing this, but soon faced limitations in observation thods and issues surrounding the contaminated raw materials.
anwhile, the patient's condition began to stabilize, as the drug's effects waned, and Lance used [Bless] to refresh, accelerating the process.
Noticing the patient's transformation before and after, even the mask couldn't hide Lance's smile.
Though lacking the technology to unravel the chanisms, the effects were unequivocal, clearing many complications, with the newly grown flesh vibrantly normal.
And now, this was just one course of treatnt, conservatively dosed, closer to a test subject's dosage, acknowledging the relationship between body size and dosage, remarkably improving his condition.
"Regardless of the reason, the only certainty now is that this is effective for treating leprosy, and might have similar effects in treating other infectious diseases as well."
Lance paused, faced the other two and solemnly said, "This is a significant step in modern dicine, and we are its witnesses."
Ancestor's technology, truly astonishing!
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