Chapter 692: The Dawn of the Contest (Part 1)

Jier saw the firelight in the clearing and the young refugees gathered together from far away.

He shouted, "We're almost there, don't fall behind, keep up with the group."

Without him needing to say it, the young people impatiently quickened their pace, just to be reunited with their friends a moment sooner. Jier rode his horse ahead, approaching the clearing. The young refugees gathered by the fire recognized the young Knight on horseback and one after another cleared a path leading to the center of the clearing.

Slowing down, it was only after he reached the center of the crowd in the clearing that he saw Priest Bataer, who was sitting on the ground, exhausted and dozing off.

The Priest's originally exquisite and formal Robe was stained with a large amount of blood, and grass stems and clumps of dirt had made the hem of the Robe filthy. The Priest himself was leaning against a Wooden Box that had originally been on Jier's carriage containing some simple Medical Supplies; on top of the Wooden Box sat a Wooden Basin full of filthy blood and blood-stained strips of cloth.

Scissors for cutting cloth and needle and thread for stitching wounds were also scattered messily on top.

These were the so-called "Medical Supplies" that Jier had bought with money when he occasionally saw them on the road, not knowing if they would be useful or not.

To tell the truth, he didn't really use them himself; after all, in the Kendall Army, there were several Military Priests responsible for treatment if one was injured. Moreover, he had thick armor for protection and didn't usually get injured.

He didn't know if those "Medical Supplies" could actually be of any real use.

But clearly, these things had been dug out by the Priest and Xueya Site, and without anyone teaching him, the Priest had used those things with self-taught skill.

The exhausted Priest Bataer was asleep leaning against the Wooden Box, humming and snoring in his mouth; he was clearly exhausted to the limit to be like this. Xueya Site, holding a Crossbow, walked over from the side, looked Jier over, and said, "Let him rest for a while. The treatment of over a hundred people earlier almost exhausted this Priest to death."

He shook his head: "Although there were still over a dozen people who couldn't be saved."

Jier raised his eyebrows: "The dead haven't been dealt with yet, right? They can't just be buried anywhere, or that will stir up big trouble. Just now at the Bandit lair, I dealt with dozens of living corpses at the bottom of the Shandong that could move and howl."

Then Jier slapped his forehead, only then remembering something: "Right, right, I almost forgot. I have a young man here who was stung by bees, the situation is extremely critical, and the Priest still needs to handle it."

Seeing Jier about to shake Priest Bataer awake, Xueya Site wanted to reach out to stop him, but after his hand was raised halfway, he stopped. The words he intended to speak were swallowed back down.

"Wake up! Wake up! Priest Bataer? Priest Bataer? Wake up!"

Jier gently pushed the Priest's shoulder, only to end up with his hand covered in blood; he hadn't expected there to be so much blood on the Priest from saving people.

Luosa-Bata'er was shaken awake from his stupor; in his confusion, he still wanted to push away the person shaking him, but after trying several times, he did not succeed.

Only then did the voice calling him enter his consciousness.

"Wake up, Priest, a young man was stung by bees, it's very serious!"

He was a bit muddled; weren't they fighting the attacking Bandits? How did it get involved with those small flying insects that pollinate crops like bees? Or was it that the fierce battle that just happened and the Changmai Village tragedy that had plagued him for many days hadn't actually happened?

Was he actually still a teenager in his teens, waking up every day to follow his peers of the same age, having to accept the teachings of the Pastors while also finding opportunities to play in the Church's garden?

Bees? He remembered that he had also raised a small box of bees.

That was a holiday gift secretly given to him by a Novice Priest friend who was good at beekeeping. Only when the scale of the bee colony reached a certain level would they perform the act of "expanding territory," and this gift wasn't always available. It was a pity that he wasn't cut out for it; that winter, because the beehive wasn't kept warm enough, the bees all froze to death. Everyone had to enjoy the sweet Honey in advance, along with a small jar of Bee Pupa fried in homemade soybean oil.

"Are you awake? Drink some water, wake up a bit."

Water was handed to his mouth, and Luosa-Bata'er raised his sore and exhausted arms, holding the leather Water Bag, and poured it into his mouth in small sips.

Gulp, gulp, gulp, gulp.

With a few mouthfuls of warm water down, the Priest finally woke up, realizing where he was and what he was doing.

He looked up at Jier the warrior, who was bending over looking at him, and nodded wearily: "You're back, how was it? Was the Bandit lair worth a special trip?"

Jier lifted his steel Faceplate, revealing his glowing eyes and upturned mouth: "Of course it was worth it, I saved over a dozen people who were captured and imprisoned by the Bandits! I rescued people at the critical moment, not to mention seizing various valuable supplies; with them, my plan can have the possibility of being realized."

The Priest blinked, reaching out to pull on Jier's armor for leverage, and barely stood up: "I seemed to hear someone was injured just now, hmm, the Divine Power should have recovered a little, it can be of some use."

Jier was silent for a moment: "Did you faint just now because your Divine Power was exhausted?"

The Priest nodded casually, as if this were not an important matter: "A few times, perhaps. Sigh, when the Divine Power was still there at the beginning, the seriously injured could still be saved, but once the Agricultural God's Divine Power was exhausted, even using some of the small tools you prepared, many of the seriously injured still couldn't be saved."

Jier didn't care how many people were lost, because the losses in the early part of this night were bound to happen, belonging to things that would happen even if he tried his best, so he took these personnel losses very lightly.

After all, when it came down to it, he wasn't the one who killed them; the Bandits did the killing, and the Bandits who harmed the refugees were also killed by him in return, which could be considered settling the grudges between them.

"Let's go, it's on the carriage I brought back, the first one, let's hurry over."

The two walked side by side quickly, hurrying out of the clearing through the path cleared by the crowd.

"Carriage? What carriage?"

"You'll see when you look."

The young man named Pam who had been stung by bees was, after all, not saved.

When Priest Bataer arrived at the side of the carriage, this young man, who was tied up with Rope, was already cold.

"He has been dead for a while. Phew, other than the stings, there are no other injuries on his body."

Priest Bataer placed the young man's body on the ground, and after untying the Rope, he checked it and reached a conclusion.

In fact, when Jier rushed over and saw the young man's blue face, he knew that the person was already dead and beyond saving.

This young man ultimately couldn't hold on until they returned for treatment. Just looking at the temperature of the body, the young man had probably already passed away just after crossing the river and reaching the Shanglu.

Letting out a heavy breath, Jier said with regret: "May he enter the land of boundless fertile fields after death."

"And forever enjoy the joy of harvest," the Priest added casually.

Only then did Priest Bataer notice the several carriages Jier had brought back, and of course, the dozen or so rescued people loaded on the carriages.

Perhaps it was the large patches of blood on the Priest's Robe that frightened the various gazes looking at him; it wasn't until Jier explained to the others that this blood-covered young man was an official Pastor Priest of the Agricultural God Church that these people dared to bow their heads to Priest Bataer to greet him.

But they still didn't dare to look up at the blood-covered young Priest.

Some people even regarded this Priest as a guy more violent and murderous than the young Knight; it was unknown what they were thinking.

"I am Luosa-Bata'er, a Village Priest from the original Changmai Village, in the Southern Province diocese of the Agricultural God Church. This trip is to complete the mission given by the Agricultural God together with the warrior Qiao-Jier, to rescue the suffering people and restore agricultural production."

Most of the rescued people who got off the carriage glanced at the Priest in a hurry and then didn't dare to look at him, let alone come forward to speak.

There was naturally the reason that the Priest's image at this time was truly not good, but there was also the reason that most of the rescued people believed in the God of Wealth.

Being rescued by a Knight of unknown faith, they were naturally extremely grateful. But talking to and relying on a Priest of a different faith was another matter.

Seeing that not many people paid attention to him, Priest Bataer didn't ask for trouble again; he had nothing to say to the Merchants either, and soon ended the conversation: "If anyone is injured or sick, you can all come to me for treatment."

Finally, someone spoke, an old man: "Lord Priest, according to the usual custom, how much wealth is generally required to offer for the treatment of non-believers?"

The Priest looked at Jier, and Jier shrugged: "Better not to. Our situation is like this now, these past rules can be discussed after things settle down."

So Priest Bataer nodded to the old man, and to the others as well, saying: "No wealth is needed. The Southern Province is full of crises at this time, and it is not the time to talk about these things. As long as everyone can contribute a bit of effort for everyone, you can receive treatment with Divine Art from me."

At this time, a middle-aged man standing not far from the old man walked out; he patted his chest and said: "Then, my lord, among us, the one who needs treatment the most right now is this young man. His fingers were bitten very badly by rats when he was imprisoned by the Bandits, please take a look."

Priest Bataer hurried forward, and the old man released the ten-year-old boy he was holding in his arms: "Stretch out your hand and let the Priest see. If you are afraid, just close your eyes."

The boy had not dared to look at the blood-red Robe on the Priest, so he obediently closed his eyes tight and raised one hand, while keeping the other hand pressed tightly against his body, as if holding something very important to him inside.

Several fingers were missing from the boy's left hand, and the wound where the fingers were severed was pitch-black, though it was unclear if it was from dirt or a scab formed by clotted blood.

The Priest examined it and lightly touched the blackened area of the severed fingers, causing the boy to softly cry out in pain.

"Pain is good; what I fear is a wound that doesn't hurt, for that would mean the wound has completely rotted away. My apologies, everyone, but with my current abilities, I cannot yet make severed limbs regrow; I can only make the wound heal quickly for now, so that at least it will not become more serious."

The Priest felt some regret; the bold words he had just spoken were already of little use.

The middle-aged man leaned over and said: "It doesn't matter, life is more important than anything else. As long as it doesn't get worse, that's enough. This kid is still young, he will have his own opportunities in the future."

The old man also nodded: "Mm, missing a few fingers is no hindrance. We Merchants just need a mouth to speak; after all, most of our skills lie in our mouths."

Priest Bataer nodded, held the boy's severed left hand, and began to pray in a low voice, guiding the meager Divine Power within him to begin healing the boy's severed wound.

"Itches—"

The boy had only spoken half a sentence before the old man pressed down on his hair, not letting him speak further.

Meanwhile, the middle-aged man nearby expressed with an apologetic face that they had not yet provided any effective help, yet had already troubled the Priest to expend Divine Power for treatment, which was truly not right. He was willing to contribute his own personal ability and energy, setting aside thoughts of returning home after being rescued, and instead actively assist in the mission of Knight Jier and Priest Bataer.

Jier was nearby, directing the young men to unload items from the carriages one by one, intending to reorganize them.

After all, not counting his Tianxuecao, there were only three horses capable of pulling carriages; his own carriage required at least one to pull it, and the remaining two could pull at most two more cargo carriages.

This resulted in having to abandon one of the three carriages brought back from the Bandit lair. Since all three carriages were basically fully loaded, the excess cargo would inevitably have to be carried by human labor.

This was not impossible; after all, most of the young Refugees were from Farmer families, and although their bodies had been weak and thin for a long time, their resilience and stamina were quite good. Working in pairs to carry small items with Rope and wooden sticks on their shoulders, their speed while walking was not slow at all.

But to do this, the cargo on the three carriages had to be thoroughly sorted and registered.

Large, heavy boxes were very difficult for people to lift, so it was best to transport them on the carriages, while some lighter or smaller boxes and goods could be carried by people.

In any case, with hundreds of people, there was plenty of human labor, and it would be a waste not to use it, especially since many of these people dared not fight and could not be effectively organized by Jier through combat.

Even though Priest Bataer had already used religious Faith to win over and organize a group of believing young people and their relatives, they still did not even reach a quarter of the total number.

If one blindly gives away food and favors without utilizing that favor, all relationships will eventually sour.

No one will feel that a free benefit requires no return; unequal favors only bring about wild thoughts and disunity. Although Jier had not thought this through thoroughly, his subconscious already felt it was improper.

"Since that's the case, come here."

Jier had sharp ears and heard the middle-aged man's offer to do something, so he summoned him over: "What is your name?"

"Answering the Knight, I am a Merchant from Kadier, the neighboring Kingdom to the southwest. I previously operated trade in re-exported goods between the Southern Province nations and the Holy Kingdom. Heh, this time I was hot-headed and risked coming to the Southern Province myself." Sighing, the middle-aged Merchant shook his head: "My name is Long, Long-Bafute."

Jier nodded indifferently and pointed to the various goods the young men had dumped onto the open ground: "Perfect, use your Merchant skills. We have to abandon one carriage. For the remaining two, I need to load the large or heavy goods to be transported, while the smaller goods will be carried by those people over there."

"You understand these supplies; they were picked over and over again before being taken from the Bandit lair, and the ones I didn't take, I burned. They are all very important now. Merchant Bafute, I am now appointing you to handle this matter with full authority. Can you do it?"

The middle-aged man's heart pounded, and after swallowing a mouthful of saliva, he patted his chest and agreed: "Please leave it to me, Knight. However, I need manpower to assist."

Jier nodded: "Handle that as you see fit. You few, come here." Jier called over the young men wearing Leather Armor and explained Merchant Bafute's task to them.

"Either you lead people to help, or pick more hands from the crowd behind, but in any case, assist him in getting this done well. Now empty the carriages, take twenty people; I plan to take down that Mountain Wolf's lair tonight."

Jier looked toward the direction of the Forest that should be to the Bei Mian: "It just so happens that the guy who surrendered from that Bandit Group said their lair is not far from here. We can be back before dawn. Twenty people, you decide among yourselves who goes. Those who go should rest for a while, and the rest help the Merchant deal with the spoils."

Everyone agreed one after another. Four of them discussed it first; some were inclined toward active combat and thus secured the task of setting off in a while to continue destroying the Bandit lair, while others felt that the violence experienced tonight was simply too much, and thus preferred to stay here to guard the surrendered Bandits and protect their companions.

Others struck up a conversation with the middle-aged Merchant, talking about the manpower needed.

The armed young men certainly would not just follow along to do manual labor; after all, their duty was to be responsible for combat and they needed to maintain their stamina, so they discussed how many people were needed to complete the task assigned by the Knight as quickly as possible before dawn.

With the matters here roughly arranged, Jier first inspected the piles of corpses and remains stacked beside the open ground and found that Xueya Site had already arranged for people to sort and place the corpses from the battlefield.

Before setting off at that time, Jier had only simply removed the weapons, armor, and equipment from the dead Bandits, and had not paid much attention to other clothing or personal items on the Bandits.

The corpses had only been simply tidied up.

Now, all of this had been dealt with.

Xueya Site walked over, pointed to these nearly two hundred corpses, and said to Jier: "Jier, how should we deal with so many corpses? To be honest, with this many, if we want to burn them—"

He shook his head: "It would require felling quite a few trees to obtain enough firewood to burn the corpses."

Jier nodded firmly and said: "No matter how many, they must be burned. After dawn, you take some people, starting from the smallest trees outside the Shulin, and prepare the wood needed to burn them. Sorry to trouble you; I still have to go and clean up the last wave of the Bandit lair later. Hmph, they attacked us in the first half of the night and caused so many deaths; if I don't destroy their lair in the second half of the night, I won't be able to swallow this anger."

Jier reached out his hand toward the sky, then squeezed his right hand hard, the steel armor plates making a creaking sound. After he relaxed his hand, those steel plates relied on their elasticity to return to their original shape.

Xueya Site was indifferent; whether it was felling trees or dealing with Bandits, none of this had much to do with him. On this trip, he only needed to do his own job and what he was capable of doing.

Jier rode his horse back to his carriage. At this time, some of the young men who had previously followed his orders were still sitting around the campfires near the carriages. Most of them now had a piece of simple weaponry each; it wasn't to say they were very handy, but at least they had a few ounces of metal in their hands, which was far better than only being able to use Wooden Stick for self-defense before.

Jier jumped off his horse and carried the precious box that had been strapped to the horse's back into the carriage.

He disappeared, then reappeared, repeating this a few times, before finally hiding these coins or precious goods and merchandise into the lady's dream.

When he came out of the carriage, he was holding a large bundle of sturdy Rope he had rummaged out from the carriage.

Summoning the group of people who had first followed his orders, Jier cut the Rope into sections and personally demonstrated how to combine Dagger, Short Knife, and wooden sticks with the Rope to become a powerful and handy weapon.

Dagger and Short Knife had too short an attack range, after all. Even though they could pose a fatal threat to unarmored enemies, when it comes to weapons, "an inch longer is an inch stronger" is not just a saying.

Wielding a Dagger in one's hand versus mounting it on the tip of a wooden stick and thrusting it forward—the attack range and power are not in the same league.

The longer the weapon, the greater the power generated by the leverage when swung. A Short Knife mounted on the side of a stick becomes a simple Single-handed Axe. A Dagger mounted on the tip of a wooden stick becomes a simple short spear. This thing can also be thrown with power; it can barely maintain balance and accuracy at short distances, but any further, and nothing can be guaranteed.