Martial Arts: I Have a Wilderness World-Chapter 50: Gone Berserk; Wounded

As casualties began to mount on both sides, Cheng Zongyang wiped the crimson blood from his face.

His brow furrowed. ’If this slaughter continues, everyone from Golden Bridge Village will die here!’

’Fighting like this, trading life for life, is just stupid.’

"Fall back!"

Cheng Zongyang roared at the crowd.

But the men didn’t hear him. They had gone berserk, their minds consumed by a single thought—to kill these drifters.

Seeing this, Cheng Zongyang immediately fell back. His eyes scanned the crowd, and when he saw Li Ming and Chen Dashan working together to cut down the drifters, he rushed over.

"Elder Ming! Uncle Dashan!" Cheng Zongyang grabbed the nearly frenzied men and yelled, "Get our people and fall back! If we keep this up, we’ll have no one left!"

Jolted by Cheng Zongyang’s shout, the two of them came to their senses.

They quickly looked around and saw that many of their kinsmen had already fallen into pools of blood.

SCHLICK!

Suddenly, Cheng Zongyang’s saber slashed down to his right, cleaving the long staff of an ambushing drifter in two. With a follow-up sweep of his Long Saber, he sent the man’s head flying, and blood sprayed ten feet into the air!

The horrifying scene instantly stunned the frenzied fighters nearby.

"Quick, get our people back! Save the wounded!" Seeing his chance, Cheng Zongyang roared at them again.

This time, Li Ming and Chen Dashan began to pull back their crazed kinsmen, shouting at them:

"Stop fighting! Get the wounded and fall back!"

"Retreat first, save our people!"

"Zhuzi, are you trying to fucking kill me? Snap out of it and fall back!"

...

Meanwhile, Cheng Zongyang continued to swing his saber, cutting down the drifters who were still in hot pursuit.

Slowly, more and more villagers regained their senses. Trembling all over, they began to help others carry the wounded.

Likewise, the drifters who had also been consumed by bloodlust gradually recovered their wits and began to regroup.

With the fighting stopped, a large number of drifters and villagers suddenly collapsed to the ground, weak and powerless. Their faces were pale, their bodies trembled, and they were drenched in cold sweat. Some even began to dry heave.

Seeing the two sides separate, leaving only the dead and wounded strewn across the ground, Cheng Zongyang also retreated back into the crowd of villagers.

"Yang’Er, are you hurt? Let your father see where you’re injured!"

Cheng Guanghai, who had long run out of arrows and had been fighting the drifters up close, now ran over. He looked at his blood-soaked son, his face filled with anxiety.

"Dad, I’m fine. It’s someone else’s blood," Cheng Zongyang immediately reassured him, pulling open his clothes.

Seeing no wounds, Cheng Guanghai let out a sigh of relief.

But the next moment, he collapsed to the ground, gasping for air while clutching his left side.

Only then did Cheng Zongyang notice that his father was also covered in a lot of blood. In particular, blood was seeping through the spot he was clutching on his left waist.

He hurried to examine him.

He found a gash on his father’s waist, still oozing blood.

"Quick, to the house!"

Startled, Cheng Zongyang ignored his father’s protests, scooped the weakened man into his arms, and ran for home, no longer caring about the people outside.

’What the hell do I care about them? Family comes first!’

"First Uncle, Second Uncle, open the door!" Cheng Zongyang yelled, pounding on the door.

Zhou Hansong, who had been waiting by the door, heard his voice and quickly unlatched it. He was met with the sight of two men drenched in blood.

Before they could ask any panicked questions, Cheng Zongyang spoke first:

"I’m fine, but my dad’s hurt! Quick, have my mom get my medical kit. She knows where it is!"

Cheng Zongyang continued toward the main hall.

Zhou Hansong immediately ran into the main hall, while Zhou Hanchang shut the door.

The old, the weak, the women, and the children of the family were all hiding in the inner rooms.

Hearing the commotion outside, the two elders and several women hurried out. But the children were kept inside.

Seeing the father and son in the courtyard, covered in blood, Mrs. Zhou of the Cheng Family’s face turned deathly pale, and her body went limp.

Mrs. Ye of the Zhou Family and Mrs. Xu of the Zhou Family, who were standing beside her and were just as terrified, reacted quickly, catching her on both sides to keep her from falling.

"Quick, sister, get the medical kit! Brother-in-law is hurt!" Zhou Hansong rushed over.

"Mom, get the medicine! I’m fine, Dad’s just a little hurt. Get my medical kit," Cheng Zongyang also shouted.

Hearing this, Mrs. Zhou of the Cheng Family’s heart eased slightly. Holding back tears, she forced her trembling body to move and hurried toward her son’s room. 𝙧𝙚𝙚𝔀𝒆𝓫𝓷𝙤𝓿𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝙤𝓶

In the main hall, Cheng Guanghai’s upper garment was removed. At Cheng Zongyang’s direction, he lay on his side on a long bench, revealing a palm-sized gash where the skin and flesh were peeled back.

"First Uncle, bring me a basin of water," Cheng Zongyang called out without turning his head.

"Alright!"

Soon, Mrs. Zhou of the Cheng Family hurried over to her son, carrying a wooden box.

When she saw the wound on her husband’s waist gushing blood, Mrs. Zhou of the Cheng Family could no longer hold back her tears. She covered her mouth, choking back sobs, not daring to cry out loud for fear of disturbing her son.

Cheng Zongyang paid no mind to his mother’s emotions. He quickly opened the wooden box and said:

"Mom, go boil some brown sugar water!"

"Okay, okay!"

"I’ll help," Mrs. Ye of the Zhou Family said quickly, worried about her sister-in-law. Mrs. Xu of the Zhou Family also hurried over.

Cheng Zongyang glanced inside the box, which was about half a meter square and filled with all sorts of bottles and jars.

A moment later, Zhou Hansong came in with a basin of water.

Without hesitation, Cheng Zongyang immediately washed his hands. After cleaning off the bloodstains, he took out a small, well-sealed and well-protected wine jar from the box.

Inside was his homemade alcohol, which he had distilled multiple times from ordinary wine. There was about a pound left.

Cheng Zongyang used the alcohol to disinfect his hands, a sewing needle, and some thread. Then he handed a strip of cloth to his father and said:

"Dad, you know the drill!"

Perhaps due to blood loss, the pale-faced Cheng Guanghai nodded weakly. "I know. Get started."

This was not the first time.

With that, he took a deep breath and bit down on the cloth strip.

This scene left Zhou Hansong and the rest of his family stunned. They had no idea what was happening.

Cheng Zongyang no longer hesitated. He gently poured some alcohol onto the wound to clean it.

’There’s no iodine, so this is the only way to disinfect it.’

"NNGH!!!!"

A long, low groan escaped from Cheng Guanghai’s mouth. His body suddenly tensed up, and he began to tremble all over.

He gripped the edge of the bench so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

’Pain!’

’Agonizing, soul-tearing pain!’

Due to the multiple physical and mental shocks—from being beaten, then from killing others, and finally from the blood loss—Cheng Guanghai couldn’t take it anymore and passed out.

Cheng Zongyang had already begun. After checking and finding no foreign objects in the wound, he began to suture it to stop the bleeding.

’It’s better that he passed out. Otherwise, the sting of the alcohol and the raw pain of being stitched up is more than anyone can bear.’

The needle was a sewing needle he had commissioned from the blacksmith.

As a hunter who often went into the mountains, injuries were common. It was only natural for him to have such things on hand.

He had even practiced his suturing technique on live prey.

’It’s not exactly professional, but it’s good enough to close a wound and stop the bleeding. Even removing the stitches later shouldn’t be a problem.’

He had tried to make sutures from animal intestines, but it was too difficult, so he hadn’t bothered. He was using normal sewing thread. ’It just means removing the stitches will hurt a bit more.’

As for hemostatic medicine, his second uncle’s family had plenty. And it was highly effective.

As he worked, making one amateurish but passable stitch after another, the terrifying wound gradually closed, and the bleeding subsided.

Once the suturing was complete, Cheng Zongyang immediately grabbed a bottle of Hemostatic Powder and sprinkled it onto the wound.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Suddenly, a frantic pounding came from the door.