savior epic

Chapter 131 Returning to Alan Biyin
Two days later, they executed the king.

It's right in the capital, on the central square, where the king honors and canonizes nobles and high-class slaves.

They smashed all the statues and executed the king face to face, and King Andrew's eldest son also signed the abdication resolution in the palace.

This victory is undoubtedly an unprecedented success.

However, not everyone is in the bliss.

The man fell ill.

Myron's dagger pierced his calf before he died, and he passed out at that time. It was not until he woke up that he was told that he was brought back by the cavalry.

And the military doctor had to announce a sad news to the man.

Although the rescue was timely, the poison had penetrated deep into the bone marrow, and Ailan would not survive a month at most because of being the consul of the city-state.

Not long after, the man developed a fever. In the first few days, he was able to patrol the barracks and discuss the next attack with everyone in the main tent. But later, the hot forehead made him realize that he was really walking on the verge of death. on the way.

"Withdraw, we must withdraw, the execution of the king is considered a complete success." Cassel couldn't help but say, "We must take the consul back to recuperate."

In the main tent, the man wanted to dismiss it, but the fever and pain dazzled his head, and he opened his mouth slightly, unable to express any objection.

In this way, the city-state legion took the slaves who had been liberated in the capital, and began to break out and return to Alanbiin.

Cassel even sent people to send several letters, asking the city-state to prepare a group of highly skilled doctors immediately.

They traveled through wind and rain, and returned to the city-state of Alanbiin at a faster speed than when they came.

Men were sent to the rear of the city-state.

Under careful care, the fever improved after a few days, but the man's leg stabbed by the dagger turned black, bruised, and gradually necrotic. The doctors first followed the instructions in the medical book and tied the calf with a rope. It still couldn't stop the toxin from getting deeper and deeper, and the pain made the man pass out every day before he could fall asleep.

The doctors were helpless, and a few days later, someone boldly proposed to cut off the necrotic leg.

This is a folk prescription that is not recorded in medical books, and it was rejected by everyone as soon as it was proposed.

However, the man was deeply tormented, and forcibly gave the order as a consul.

"Cut off this dead leg."

"Consul, that's a folk remedy I've never seen before." The doctor said in surprise and panic.

"But I have to get through it, and hold on for a while." The man's voice was unquestionable.

In the end, the man's leg was amputated. The operation went smoothly and the bleeding was stopped smoothly. The doctor who was so surprised to make the suggestion knelt on the ground after the operation, thanking the Lord for His grace.

It's just that the man still had a vague premonition that death was getting closer and closer to him, and amputating that leg only slowed down its pace.

A high fever inevitably appeared after the operation. Under the quiet recuperation and careful care, the man survived with strong will, not daring to let himself fall asleep completely every night, only daring to keep a light sleep.

After the high fever, because the injured calf had been amputated, the man gradually felt less pain, and the premonition of death was still strong, but the man began to wake up more and more day by day.

This is not a tendency to get better, but a reflection of life before death, a kind of gentle sigh.

Relying on this sobriety, the man made arrangements for the funeral.

"Cassel." On the sickbed, the man picked up a quill and signed a legal clause.

Cassel tried to suppress the sadness in his eyes, and he sat by the sickbed.

The man gripped the quill vigorously, intermittently wrote his name on the linen paper, and handed it firmly to Cassel.

"From now on, you are the new consul," the man said.

Cassel took the linen paper with both hands, put it on his lap, clenched one hand, and couldn't help pressing his eye sockets.

The man closed his eyes silently.

He was dying.

"Cassel, go, bring this legal clause to someone else to read." The man said slowly, "Let me stay for a while."

Cassel opened his mouth, but didn't know what to say, and silently put away the legal clauses.

"My Lord, I believe you will recover." Before closing the door, Cassel said, he couldn't say anything else.

"I hope." The man leaned on the pillow and said.

Knowing that his own death is near, the man feels not fear, but an indescribable peace that he has never felt in his life.

The sun shines through the window and falls in front of the sickbed, while the rest are just shadows. There are potted plants in the ward, which is quiet and peaceful.

The man opened his eyes, turned his face, and stared at the sunlight falling into the ward.

The candlestick is on his left hand side.

The beast in his chest was so weak that he stood up, tensing his body, which no medicine could relieve.

"Maybe I should go out." These days he has been in the ward.

"No, not maybe." The man said to himself, "I should go out and walk alone."

I don't know what kind of mood it was, maybe he wanted to see what happened to the city-state of Alan Biyin again, the man turned around and put his only remaining leg on the ground.

As soon as he stood up, the man almost fell down.

"I almost forgot that I broke a leg." The man laughed bitterly at himself.

He took the candlestick, tied it around his waist, and picked up the crutch beside the bed, which was placed here by the servants, for the convenience of helping the man to go out and bask in the sun.

The man who had traveled alone through the desert now had to use a cane.

The man opened the door cautiously, poked his eyes out and looked around the corridor.

It's like stealing bread as a child and making observations beforehand.

There was no one in the corridor, and the man breathed a sigh of relief. With a cane in one hand, he bent down and walked on tiptoe.

Along the way, the man dodged the cleaning servants and scurried behind the pillars until he came to the utility room and managed to climb through the window, but luckily he did not make a sound.

The man's foot hit the grass.

"It's the same as hiding in the past." The man's taste was slightly nostalgic, and he knew that he hadn't completely lost his talent for stealing.

Leaning on crutches, the man left the mansion where he was recuperating step by step, and walked towards the street.

This is the rear of the city-state of Alan Biin, and it is also the town he came to after he walked out of the desert.

He once led the dejected soldiers in the tavern to parade and shout in the streets.

Although this memory is not far away, the man still can't help feeling a little disappointed.

At this time, the church bell rang solemnly, echoing in the air.

It seemed to be a memorial service, the man came back to his senses, carefully discerned how many times it knocked, and realized that the church seemed to be commemorating the deceased.

"Let's go to the tavern." The man said softly.

He thought of the tavern owner who lost his son, and the soldiers who surrounded him.

The man is leaning on a cane, with a candlestick dangling from his waist.

He walked onto the street like this. It is the afternoon, when everyone is drowsy, the street is a little deserted, and there are not many pedestrians.

Some people saw the man on crutches, glanced twice, and didn't pay much attention. Not everyone has seen the consul.

The man walked slowly towards the tavern according to his memory.

But there are still people who have only seen the consul once, and they have been deeply impressed and irreplaceable.

As the man walked past a longhouse, a woman was sitting on a bench with a baby in her arms, and someone blocked the sunlight, so she looked up.

"Ah!" The woman screamed a little.

The man turned his head.

"Executive, consul? The Lord is above" the woman dared not believe it.

The man recognizes her.

He didn't expect to meet the woman who asked him to name her here.

The man made a "shh" gesture and smiled at the woman.

The woman was a little nervous and nodded, and then she saw the empty trousers of the consul, and hurriedly said: "Consul, I heard that you are sick, very sick."

"It's not that serious, I'm fine."

After the man finished speaking, he looked at the baby in the woman's arms.

"What a lovely child."

"Yeah, do you remember me? He's a boy." The woman was a little incoherent.

"Remember," the man nodded slightly, staring at the child's gently closed thin eyelids, bubbly mouth, and smooth skin, "does he have a name?"

"Ah, I have it." Speaking of the child, the woman laughed, looked at the baby in her arms, and said softly, "It's called Nai Baoxier, and his grandma took it."

"Nibao Hill, a good name." The man paused, and slowly said the meaning, "a gift from the Lord."

Then, the man made a gesture, signaling that he should go.

The woman nodded nervously.

The man turned around, leaned on crutches, and walked towards the tavern step by step.

At the corner of the street, a seven or eight-year-old boy stared at the man with missing legs from afar.

The boy's eyes fell on the shaking candlestick, and his hands were itchy.

He's a notorious bad boy in this town.

With the mentality of getting a loot, the boy secretly followed.

(End of this chapter)