Lord: Starting from the Pit-Dwelling Courtyard

Chapter 83: Dealing with Prisoners

Leonardo da Vinci used his full weight to press down on the leg to prevent it from bouncing up, and then a spurt of blood gushed out from the cut, flowing down the side of the thigh onto the bed board, dripping onto the rammed earth surface.

Lillie immediately grabbed a clean burlap sack and pressed it against the bleeding point, but the blood quickly soaked through the sack, and her fingers began to tremble.

"Change the cloth, don't shake it, or I won't be able to see clearly." Ron didn't even look up.

He avoided the nearest blood vessel, and gently pried between the arrowhead and the bone with the tip of the knife.

"Da Vinci, hold him down."

Russell sprang up from the bed and was then pushed back down, the burlap in his mouth crunching as he bit it, and the veins on his forehead bulging like twisted earthworms.

Ron's fingers didn't tremble. He used hemostats to clamp the end of the arrow, gently wiggled it left and right a couple of times, and pulled it out along the angle at which the arrow had pierced the ground.

The arrow scraped against the bone with a very faint grating sound, then suddenly came loose.

The pus and blood that came out splattered on Ron's sleeve. He wiped it casually on his trouser leg and tossed the blood-stained arrow into the copper dish beside the bed with a crisp clatter.

"The arrowhead is out; stop the bleeding."

Ron pulled a curved knife and sewing needles from the leather scroll.

Lillie leaned closer to the wound, her voice suddenly caught in her throat. The wound, which had been bleeding just moments before, was now bleeding significantly less.

She picked up the water from the copper basin and rinsed the wound. The blood flowed down the bed board into the wooden bucket on the floor, and the muscle tissue at the edge of the wound was finally clearly visible.

Ron inserted the curved blade into the wound, carefully shaving away the necrotic bits of flesh at the edges, then threaded a needle and began to stitch it up.

The stitches are curved, with thin hemp thread at the end. Since there's no catgut, hemp thread has to be used instead. The stitches will be removed once the wound has healed.

The needle made a very faint "plop" sound as it pierced the skin. The burlap in Russell's mouth had fallen out. He didn't shout, but just gasped for breath, beads of sweat rolling from his forehead into his ears.

"You're lucky." Ron finished stitching the last stitch, tied a knot, and cut the thread. "The arrow didn't hit the femoral artery, and the bone isn't broken."

Russell spat out the burlap from his mouth, his lips as white as paper. He looked down at his thigh; the wound had been stitched up, the stitches crooked and twisted like a centipede crawling on his skin, but the bleeding had stopped, his leg was still there, and his toes could still move.

Russell looked up at Ron, his mouth opening and closing before finally managing to squeeze out, "My lord, why do you know how to do this? Is this really your first time?"

"This is my first time doing this for someone." Ron rinsed the scalpel in the copper basin, dried it with a clean linen cloth, and put it back into the leather scroll. "Why? I don't want to see my men get into trouble because their injuries weren't treated in time. You prisoners are perfect for me to practice on."

The ward was quiet for a moment.

Leonardo da Vinci released Russell's hand, glanced at the lord with a complicated expression, and said nothing.

At that moment, Leonardo da Vinci felt an urge to die for his lord.

He was promoted by the lord from a mercenary, and he had seen the lord's care for his people and soldiers. But today, he witnessed the lord performing surgery on a prisoner.

He wanted to practice, solely to prepare for reducing the number of wounded soldiers dying in his territory in the future.

Leonardo da Vinci released Russell's hand, stood up, took a step back, and bowed his head to Ron.

"My lord, from now on, whoever you order me to kill, I will kill. No questions asked."

Ron patted Leonardo on the shoulder: "Okay, help tidy up the operating room and assist me in practicing surgeries a few more times."

Da Vinci agreed without hesitation, and Lillie also got busy. Ron's performance today amazed her, and she decided to study hard.

In one day, Ron performed ten surgeries, three of which failed, and the mercenary died on the spot.

The cause of death was excessive blood loss. If only there were hemostatic techniques. As for hemostatic forceps, he tried twice, but unfortunately he lacked surgical knowledge in this area and couldn't use them properly.

Seven people, including Russell, survived. Such a survival rate attracted not only mercenary prisoners but also knights like Fanta, who came to see it.

"This is how you treat a wound to prevent infection..."

When old Hall arrived, he saw Ron instructing Lillie on how to clean and bandage her wounds, and also teaching her how to suture the huge wound.

"Young master, Lord Harland has sent word that he has annihilated the remaining forces of the Imperial Knights, and the head of the leading knight has been delivered."

Ron then looked up, surprised, at Old Hall: "Harland wiped out the remnants of the Imperial Guard."

Old Hall nodded and said, "The head has been confirmed by the prisoners; it is their squad leader, Hilfa."

Upon hearing that it was an acquaintance, Ron immediately became interested. He handed over the remaining work to Lillie and returned to Pit One.

Inside the No. 1 pit courtyard, Harland was sitting in a rocking chair in the courtyard, looking at the sky with a look of enjoyment, when he suddenly saw Ron's icy face.

"Congratulations, Lord Ashwood, on another victory."

Ron sat down in the chair next to him, annoyed. "Where's Hillar's head?"

Harland pointed to the wooden box on the table, and Leonardo da Vinci immediately opened it and handed it to Ron.

"You've got some nerve, daring to kill even members of the Knights of the Judiciary." After confirming it was the same old acquaintance, Ron waved for Leonardo to take him away.

The Imperial Guard's position in the kingdom is similar to that of the Embroidered Uniform Guard in a certain dynasty.

"Aren't you afraid of retaliation from the Knights of the Inspectorate?" Ron asked.

"I was scared." Harland put his feet up on the edge of the table. "But they attacked your territory first, and they didn't win. Their morale was already broken. I led a hundred cavalrymen and charged in from the flank. They didn't even have time to form ranks." He chuckled. "Besides, who would know it was me? It's perfectly normal for a squad of knights to die on the wasteland."

"Besides, if anyone's going to seek revenge, they should come after you first. You even killed a Sky Knight." Harland asked with a smile, "How did you kill that Sky Knight?"

Faced with Haaland's probing, Ron thought for a moment and said, "I'll tell you, he crippled himself, do you believe me?"

"You think I'd believe that?" Harland had barely finished speaking when he asked with a strange expression, "Crippled... not dead yet?"

"He's not dead yet, but he's really crippled," Ron said with certainty.

"You're lacking in chivalry!" Harland said, his face grim. "This absolutely cannot get out, or the Imperial Guard will fight you to the death."

Ron thought for a moment and understood what Harland meant: "Yeah, I doubt he'll survive tonight either."

Harland asked cheekily, "I heard you can produce ballistae. How about selling me a few?"

"good!"

Ron nodded very readily.

Haaland frowned slightly instead: "You're not going to sell me a substandard product, are you?"

Ron said irritably, "Take it or leave it!"

"Yes, but I need to see the goods first."

Ron thought for a moment and then shook his head: "No, I don't have time these few days. I'll show it to you in a few days after I've settled things in the territory."

Harland immediately realized that the ballista Ron sold him was definitely a downgraded version, but there was nothing he could do. It was the only one of its kind in the entire Blackthorn Wasteland, so he could only wait and see.

"Okay, I'll come back in a couple of days."

Ron saw Harland to the door and watched his cavalry disappear around the corner of the city wall.

"Old Hall, have Doron inquire in Gorubakburg about what price the downgraded ballista can fetch."

"Young Master, are you really planning to sell?"

"Sell it. But keep the good stuff for yourself."