When the Saintess Arrives, No King Exist-Chapter 653 - 613: Illness

As mid-September arrives, just as the mountain folks predict, the icy autumn rain pours down.

This kind of on-and-off wind and rain will last one to two weeks. In such weather, the mountain folks can only resort to drinking, sleeping, and beating their wives.

The rain falls like needles onto the thatched roof, making a crisp pitter-patter sound.

Amid this sound, surrounded by seven or eight mountain folks, Ansel, clad in a heavy hooded cloak, is already half-soaked as he pounds on the door of this little cabin.

"Lalor, it's me!" Ansel's voice rises above the sound of rain, "It's Ansel, let me in."

Footsteps approach amidst the rain, and then the wooden door swings open, Lalor peers out, his face marked by fatigue and weariness.

He gives Ansel a glance, genuinely surprised, "Brother Ansel, what brings you here? It's not a day for traveling."

"What have you been up to these days? It's already September 14th, you didn't come for the spinning payday yesterday, what's going on?"

Lalor lowers his head, seemingly unwilling to answer, but seeing Ansel's serious demeanor, he sighs helplessly, stepping aside: "You better come in, Monk."

A scent blended with wet earth and sour rot assails Ansel's senses, causing him to wrinkle his nose.

The other mountain folks file in, staying in the courtyard.

He walks briskly into the cabin, where only a single oil lamp flickers weakly.

Ansel scans around and quickly notices a figure lying on the wooden bed in a corner.

He steps closer, seeing it's a little girl about twelve or thirteen, her face sallow, her eye sockets sunken, devoid of life.

Just as he's about to speak, he hears Lalor roughly berate and kick his crying little son out of the house: "Don't come in, go out!"

Ansel frowns at Lalor, "Is this your…"

Lalor forcefully closes the courtyard door and approaches Horn, his eyes hollow as he whispers, "My eldest daughter, fifteen years old this year."

Only at this moment does Ansel understand why Lalor hasn't appeared at the church these past few days.

Taking a deep breath, he says nothing more, only squatting by the bed, carefully checking the girl's condition.

Her arms have become mere skin and bones, her forehead is scorching, yet her lips are cracked and bleeding. After asking Lalor a couple questions, Ansel realizes it's dysentery.

Standing up, he frowns at Lalor, his voice now tinged with anger, "How long has it been? Why didn't you tell me?"

Lalor leans against the wall, bloodshot eyes, voice hoarse: "Almost three days. She caught cold spinning yarn all night; what comes out is all bloody water. Even if I told you, what could be done?"

"Buy medicine, what else can you do?" Ansel looks at him, almost in disbelief, "If she's sick, you buy medicine to treat her."

Lalor remains silent for a moment, then laughs bitterly, "We can barely manage food; where would we get money for medicine?

Besides, you'd buy medicine for a normal illness, but this is dysentery. Even with medicine, it may not be cured, unless the monks at the monastery use Divine Art, but how could I afford it?

For us mountain folks, illness is fate, we accept it."

"But this is your daughter!" Ansel is stunned by Lalor's words; folks from Pingyuan County naturally have family members who get sick, and it's not like they don't treat them.

Especially after the ry Court Barracks was established, monks and witch doctors were required to go to the countryside for consultations; no one's been this stubborn.

The mountain folks who followed didn't dare enter the cabin, only standing under the eaves nodding along.

Some even whispered, "It's not that we don't want to save her, it's been like this for hundreds of years, born, grow old, get sick, and die, what can be forced?"

"We've long been used to it; what's the point in struggling?" Another mountain folk sighed, his gaze dim, "Kids get sick; it happens every year. Some things we just can't change."

Ansel looked around at the numb expressions of these people, feeling as if he was meeting them for the first time, "Aren't you the ones who value family most?"

No one answered him; the only response was a series of bitter smiles.

Someone even muttered, "You can't starve the whole family for one person, can you?"

To the mountain folks, death always accompanies life's journey. As a child, their father freezes, their mother starves; growing up, their wife dies in childbirth, their children fall ill; hunting wolves might mean getting bitten to death by creatures.

People in Pingyuan County have black markets and potions, but what do people in the mountains have?

Even when they have money, they still can't afford medicine. As for the priests, there's no hope, they only offer Divine Art for 3 gold pounds a time.

Even the Armed Farmers, giving a check-up for a child or adult means going bankrupt.

In Lalor's eyes, even if Ansel could arrange the Divine Art for 3 gold pounds per time, those monks wouldn't come to the mountains in such torrential rain. 𝗳𝗿𝐞𝕖𝘄𝗲𝕓𝗻𝚘𝚟𝕖𝐥.𝚌𝕠𝕞

Once a mountain flood or landslide blocks the way, not even monks would receive the Saint Master's blessing.

"Hum, hum, hum!" Ansel is so angered by the mountain folks that he lets out a cold laugh.

"You don't understand… The money for treating a sickness is enough to buy a new wife…" One of the mountain folks outside the courtyard argues stubbornly.

Ignoring these dissenters, Ansel stands up, turning to Bryson, "Go fetch some sugar, salt, and find some clean water."

Bryson is stunned, instinctively asking, "What do you need sugar, salt, and water for?"

"At least it can alleviate dehydration, stabilize her condition." Bringing the fire basin closer, Ansel continues giving orders, "Otherwise, she won't last the night."

Though reluctant, Bryson can only nod, running out of the cabin, getting drenched as he goes outside, soon retrieving a small packet of coarse sugar, a pinch of salt, and a pouch of clear water from the donkey's saddle bag.

Ansel quickly mixes the sugar and salt into the water, stirring with a wooden spoon, then carefully ladles a spoonful to the girl's lips.

"Drink it, don't be afraid." He said gently, "Your brother will soon bring you medicine."

Opening half her eyes, the girl glances at her father, Lalor is shaken by this gaze, trembling like a leaf.

Blankly staring at the sugar salt water before her, the girl weakly struggles but ultimately sips a little under Ansel's comforting words.

She wants to live! She still wants to live!

Lalor and the surrounding mountain folks watch this scene dumbfounded, no one speaks, only silently bowing their heads.

"Bryson, you and Lalor watch over her, feed her the sugar salt water periodically." Ansel's orders seemed a futile struggle to others, yet he remains persisting in giving orders.

"Stay here and don't move around, no one enters or leaves the courtyard except those watching over her, no physical contact with her unless absolutely necessary; I'm going to find the higher-up monastery for medicine."

"Monk Ansel…" Bryson hesitates to speak, "The rain's getting heavier, the mountain streams and springs might surge into a flood, it's too dangerous to go out now."

"The most dangerous moment was when I leapt from the rooftop onto a knight's horse." Ansel said while putting on his cloak again, ordering those around him, "What's this danger worth?"

"Even if you get the medicine from the chapel, based on her current situation, she'd probably not hold out until you return." Several old mountain folks advised.

But Ansel seems not to hear, "Bryson, have someone bring my mule over."

If Ansel surrendered to fate, he should have starved to death outside Joan of Arc Castle long ago.

If it weren't for His Majesty Saint Sun having taken him in as a Child Soldier, he'd have been a dry corpse by the roadside by now.

"Back then, I also had dysentery, I was nearing death, but why didn't I die? His Majesty saved me, didn't he?" Ansel stubbornly donning his raincoat and cloak, "The way His Majesty saved me, that's how I'm going to save her!"

"But this road is hard to tread, Sir…" Bryson tried to advise again but was interrupted by Ansel.

"Remember to feed her water every once in awhile, don't let her eat indiscriminately, if the sugar runs out, there's more in my cabin."

Riding on the small mule led to him outside the house, Ansel glances at the swaying thatch cabin, takes a deep breath, and disappeared swiftly into the rain.

In the house, everyone remains silent for a long time, only an old mountain folk whispered, "Is it really worth it?"

Lalor doesn't respond, he slowly approaches his daughter's bed, gently stroking her dry hair, "It's alright, it's alright…"

Bryson holding the wooden bowl, dares not respond, only staring outdoors, ears filled with the increasingly fierce wind.