District 42-Chapter 291: The tents
In a certain part of District 42, a warzone had been settled. Ridires and Frelsis were exchanging bullets, dyeing the battlefield with blood and covering the streets with corpses and wreckage.
That was one of the most fierce and fearful battles that the Royal Family ever declared against their opposers. That day was known as "The First Slaughter". None of the sides would ever claim to win or lose the battle.
Gossips were heard among the folk, which said that the Frelsis won because they killed more Ridires and could run away with their equipment and technology.
However, among the Jarls, they would say that the Ridires won since they could take that zone from the Frelsis, ending with their domination over the midwest region, which was the first one to have Frelsi influence.
The Ridires always said that "The First Slaughter" wasn’t a day of victory at all, but one of glory, because although those warriors faced all sorts of dangerous situations and helpless fights, they never backed away. More than seventy percent of the troop that was encharged to recover the Midwest region died in battle. Nonetheless, they maintained their honor until the end. 𝚏𝕣𝕖𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚋𝚗𝐨𝐯𝕖𝕝.𝕔𝐨𝕞
The Frelsis would say that "The First Slaughter" was a period of transformation, loss, and sorrow. What triggered that battle wasn’t their domain in the Midwest region, but the Execution which happened that day. The execution of Drott, the brain of the Frelsis, and best friend of Javir.
After such an event happened, the Frelsis couldn’t keep quiet and decided to start something. The Ridires, obviously, weren’t going to stay still and see what they would do and began to retaliate.
If someone asked the leader of the Frelsis himself, all he would say was that "The First Slaughter" was nothing more, nothing less than a mistake. That day marked the start of the Frelsis’ wrath. They weren’t just a group of rebels trying to free themselves while running away from the Royal Family anymore; that group turned into rebels who were going to crush the Royal Family, and so conquering their freedom.
However, the focus isn’t just on the battlefield itself, but what was going on in a tent on the borders of the battlefield.
Since it was basically a war, a civil war, the Ridires needed aid. They were in a zone well known by the Frelsi, and the terrain was prepared for any attacks that they could receive.
Those warriors entered the Midwest region knowing that their lives would need to be taken in order to have a slight chance of dominating that place.
Many Ridires died, but a whole bunch got severely harmed.
That’s why they set up those tents previously. Those tents were filled with supplies and healers who would be essential to help them.
If not for the healers, all those troops would be wiped out in just a few dozens of minutes. However, since the harmed could be recovered quickly, the Ridires could fight nonstop with all their might!
If one would declare the MVPs of that battle, it surely would be the healers.
Inside the main tent of that conglomerate of healers, a huge mess was happening. The battle was at its peak. More and more harmed or dead Ridires appeared inside there.
A man with spiky hair, a white mask, and a white coat walked inside the big tent in hurried steps.
At the same time, a group of warriors entered the place.
This time, instead of one or two wounded warriors arriving there, five came at once. The group was helping to carry them. Some were even harmed, but they didn’t seem to be weakened enough to be willing to stop fighting out there.
"Please, we need to do it quickly! They are pressing forward and getting near the tents!" One of the soldiers said while his comrade, who was being carried by him, moaned in pain.
The Healer could see that the man got a shoot in his face, which was now defigured. Also, his stomach had several red points on it.
"Put him in an unoccupied bed, he has salvation." The man analyzed quickly, doing the same thing with the other 4 warriors.
In the end, two died right on the spot, two were in a critical state, and the last one was alive but was probably in a profound coma.
The other warriors ran away from the tent, going outside with their guns in hand and serious expressions. Once they left the place, just some meters away from there, the exchange of shots began again.
’They are really near... Will the Ridires maintain the fools away from here? I hope so, otherwise, we will be totally gone.’ He reasoned, with a grim expression.
Anyway, he decided to let those warriors do their job.
He wore special gloves and choose several healers to help him.
"Ok, 1, 2, 3..." He counted the people who were there, but one was missing. "Amelia! You as well. I need your help here!"
A woman approached the team quickly. She had a furious expression, staring at that healer and holding dangerously tight a scalpel.
"If you really want this much to complicate my life, Rurik, then it’s better for you to be prepared for the debt you have with me! Do you think I am playing here!? You are the fourth idiot that calls me in the last twenty seconds! I am just a single person, you know!?"
Rurik looked to the sides, seeing that other healers were looking at him with pleading eyes. They were going through their struggles to heal their patients as fast as possible, and Amelia was the most promising healer among all the fifteen tents there.
"I will give you ten minutes. Do this in ten minutes and then come to help me at least with one of them."
She growled to him, and for a moment Rurik thought that she might punch him. However, she turned his back to him and walked toward another bed where a Ridire without one of his arms was lying.
"5 minutes, I will help you with two of them, you sucker."
Rurik smiled.
"Ok, everyone! Let’s start it. Full speed, no mistakes!"
