Chapter 115 Healing

The old man in charge of healing was very careful. They all seemed to obey the command of the old witch. This old woman with a thick nerve was not as careful as the doctors in the future in treating wounds. She perfectly demonstrated the roughness of shamanism in her treatment.

She grabbed the mud-like herbs from the wooden bowl held by the maid beside her. She prayed for a while, and then threw the herbs on Andrew's back in a casual, yes, very casual way. Andrew snorted twice, thinking that this method of treatment must be uncomfortable.

Even so, only half of the chain mail on Andrew's back was removed, and the other half was still stuck to the burned skin on his back.

"Romans, stand back."

Suddenly, I heard a familiar Latin voice behind me. I turned around and saw a man whose clothes and appearance were not much different from theirs, but his hairstyle was not as rough as theirs. Compared with the barbarians around him, he was more like a Roman citizen.

"You, a Roman?"

I pointed at him and asked. He just shook his head after hearing me, his face cold and expressionless. In layman's terms, this guy has a paralyzed face.

"You'd better move aside. After all, such a close distance will hinder our priests from healing your companions."

His lips opened and closed, and I was surprised that in this seemingly primitive tribe, there was someone like him who could speak Latin fluently. It really opened my eyes.

So I listened to him, put down the linen cloth I was using to wipe Andrew's blood, and slowly backed away to his side.

Andrew's face was extremely pale at this time. It seemed that the pain of removing the mail was unbearable. For Andrew, who was already weak after the ordeal, if this continued, I was afraid that an accident would really happen. But the witch and her men did not have any intention of stopping. She nodded slightly to the man holding the mail and began to sing hoarsely again.

"What is she talking about?"

I turned my head to ask the man who knew Latin. After all, they were so backward, and they were treating the severe burns on Andrew's back that basically covered the entire back. Is it really possible? "She is praying for your companions."

The guy answered directly, and it seemed that such a big thing was not a big deal to him.

"What? Pray!"

I almost cried out, saving people is such a big thing, you pray to God? It's better to use your face! Oh, these backward guys, there is really no way to communicate with them! These are my thoughts in my heart, I dare not say them out loud, what if this guy translates what I just said to the people around him in their language, then it's perfect, I can't escape tonight's dinner!

I said it was a blessing, there must be other ways! I deceived myself in my heart, and only watched the movements of the guys around Andrew, for fear that they would be careless and suddenly pull off the chain mail. Then I bet that Andrew would be killed by the pain.

"What should I do? What should I do?"

I was so anxious that I was sweating profusely. I really hated myself for not applying for medical major, otherwise how could I be helpless when Andrew was on the verge of death!

It started, it started again, the witch started a strange dance again, and circled around Andrew again and again. What was even stranger was that every time the old witch sang a line, the barbarians around me would sing along, and I was confused by their singing. Do you think you are holding a singing and dancing party, or saving people?

The old man began to slowly pull the bloody chain mail again. Andrew's face, which had just regained some color, turned pale again. His lips trembled slightly, and he seemed to be enduring extraordinary pain. He was enduring it, trying hard not to scream out. His miserable appearance did not attract the old man's sympathy. The old man's masseter muscles on his skinny face gradually tightened, and he began to exert force.

"Cough, cough, crack!"

The chain mail was peeled off layer by layer from the flesh on Andrew's back. The blood and flesh were pulled out bit by bit. Because he had been soaked in the river for too long, the skin on his back began to turn white. Andrew finally couldn't hold on any longer. Beads of sweat fell like raindrops. I saw tears in the corners of his eyes. It was so miserable, so miserable.

Seeing him in such pain, I couldn't bear it. After all, Andrew was seriously injured because of me. I wanted to go up again, even to hold his hand, but the barbarian stopped me and whispered to me, "The witch is praying to the gods. If you interrupt her at this time, the gods will be angry. Not only will your companions not be saved, but we will also be implicated!"

"What? God, I was just praying for you!"

Fuck your gods. As a staunch supporter of atheism, I couldn't be fooled by what he said, but this barbarian believed it. In view of the huge difference between the times, I tolerated it, was patient, and made a decision with great courage, that is, to choose to agree with these barbarians. After all, the only way to treat Andrew was in their hands.

The witch skipped to the maid like a half-grown child, grabbed a handful of herbs from the wooden bowl, and patted Andrew's bloody back.

"ah!!!"

Andrew screamed until his voice became hoarse, and soon his limbs became limp and he drooped on the platform. This scream made my heart twist into a ball. This is not treatment at all, this is clearly another torture! "Enough! Hey, stop it, that's enough!"

I finally couldn't stand it anymore, so I pushed the Latin-speaking barbarian next to me away, rushed forward, grabbed the old man's arm, and yelled at him: "Enough! Don't you see how much pain he is in!"

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The old man was frightened by my sudden roar. He stared at me blankly. Not only him, but even the old witch who was howling stopped walking and howling. Everyone present was staring at me.

"Roman, you know what you are doing!"

The barbarian who I pushed away came up to me and yelled at me.

"Don't you see my companion has fainted from the pain?"

I could no longer suppress my anger, and no longer feared the large numbers of these barbarians. I shouted back, "Listen, I don't know what tricks you are playing, but I know that you will definitely kill my companions!"

The old witch standing in the back stared at me and said something in her shrill voice. The bastard who knew Latin immediately translated it: "Our priest said that your rude behavior has scared away the gods, so your companions have no choice but to die!"

Thanks to hsq for the recommendation ticket. Thank you. I am helping in the kitchen today and have no time to write. Please forgive me.

(End of this chapter)