Chapter 17: Shock therapy for treating hydrocephalus?
Hurrying to the wounded, Suna faced a grim scene.
Two were critically injured, unconscious.
One had lost a quarter of both legs, with severe fractures in his arms and ribs, the latter causing a flail chest.
The other’s skin was almost entirely charred, fingers shattered, and arms necrotic.
His trachea and lungs were severely corroded, the most life-threatening injury.
The other five had wounds, some missing limbs, but none immediately fatal.
After a quick glance to confirm they could hold on, Suna rushed to the side of Priest Enrik, a bronze-skinned, white-haired middle-aged man in a priest’s robe, who was saving the acid-like burn victim.
Enrik, focused on restoring the man’s nearly destroyed trachea and lungs with healing magic, used wind magic to supply fresh air and clear blood clots.
“Priest Enrik, I’m here.
I’ll handle the other critical patient.”
Too focused to look up, Enrik exhaled in relief and replied briefly, “Thank you, Saintess Flurist.”
Suna used Corona Magic to cauterize the bleeding stumps of the legless man’s wounds.
His team had crudely used fire magic to stop the bleeding, likely to save him.
She then manipulated streams of water, avoiding major blood vessels, to reach the fractured areas.
Infused with healing Corona Magic, the water caused minimal bleeding.
The streams extracted bone fragments from his ribs first, then repositioned the bones with stronger flows, accelerating regeneration to reconnect them.
She prioritized repairing impact damage to his heart and lungs.
Under her care, the man’s breathing stabilized, and his fractured ribs no longer heaved erratically.
Suna used splints from her first-aid kit to stabilize his multi-fractured arms, avoiding further healing magic.
The patient couldn’t handle more; her healing magic enhanced recovery, but overuse could drain his already weak vitality.
Joining Enrik, Suna turned to the corrosion victim.
Enrik’s efforts had restored some breathing, but the man, with most of his skin corroded, showed bizarre complications.
Despite carbonized skin, necrotic or rotting tissue oozed yellow-green pus, and his dead arms swelled subtly, as if the flesh beneath was proliferating.
“Enrik, there’s ancient divine pollution!”
“I know,” Enrik replied.
“I’ll stabilize his life; you handle the pollution.”
Without hesitation, Suna used a Corona Magic flame blade to sever the man’s abnormal arms at mid-bicep, cleanly burning through.
She tossed the limbs into an iron trash bin brought by an acolyte, adding golden flames to incinerate them.
A lightly injured brown-haired female mage, clutching her side, questioned her.
“Why’d you cut off so much of his arms?”
As she spoke, Suna swiftly used a thin flame blade to sever the man’s left leg below the knee.
“What?! His leg wasn’t even withered… ugh, are you just hacking away?
Are you saving him?”
The mage, furious, coughed painfully from her wound, her sharp, upturned eyes glaring fiercely.
Ignoring her, Suna responded calmly.
“You fought a腐脓蛞蝓, right?
Its yellow-green pus isn’t just corrosive—it carries mild ancient divine pollution.
His hands, left leg, and right foot directly touched the pus, while other areas were exposed to its vapor.”
Suna cut off the man’s right foot with her flame blade and retorted sharply.
“If I don’t remove the heavily polluted parts, do you want your friend to slowly turn into a plague husk or see his limbs become腐肢兽?”
The mage bristled.
“You… how dare you talk like that?!”
“While we’re saving lives, you’re yelling and questioning us, disrupting treatment.
As a saintess, I’m kind enough not to use shock therapy on the water in your head.”
Suna’s veiled insult came as she removed the remaining polluted tissue from the corrosion victim.
Enrik directed standby temple acolytes to move the critical patients to a better treatment area.