Twenty healers, is that many or few? Hard to say. Compared to the typical warmasters' combat units, it's a negligible quantity. However, considering the complexity of their training and the prerequisites required, producing healers is fraught with substantial challenges.

For young warmasters, it's much easier to follow the path of a fighter than to expend the effort and time only to become much weaker in combat later on.

Moreover, the art of healing demands very high prana expenditures. This means that weak healers will face significant difficulties in treating wounds of any considerable severity.

That's why people like Hideo Sumada, capable of not only healing but also bringing death and destruction on the battlefield, enjoyed indisputable authority among medics.

In this respect, Shiro the Serpent was becoming another rising star in the eyes of the Sumada clan healers.

And they could be understood.

Among the rather closed society of healers, there were stories, one more incredible than the other, about how the Serpent destroyed numerous Mizuno in the defense of Gaibatsu or how he fought and survived against several great dragons or in battle with a supreme warmaster.

And his connections amazed the healers even more. The best friend of the clan head himself and an apprentice of the current head of all healers – all this inevitably invited comparisons to Hideo and Fierce Ishiro.

People love analogies and patterns. It makes it easier for them to make sense of various life turns. To feel that they understand and control something in this changing world.

This is precisely why a minor scuffle nearly broke out among the healers for the privilege of serving under such a warmaster like him, moreover considering his healing achievements.

Michiro Sumada, the commander of all healers in the army, Hideo's senior apprentice, was not opposed either. Stas explained how exactly he planned to use human resources and that he was not going to waste them in battles for no reason.

In this regard, Ordyntsev was markedly superior to other warmasters, belonging to the healers' "circle" and, at the same time, possessing impressive combat power and authority.

Besides, medics legitimately believed it was worth establishing connections with someone of such caliber as soon as possible. And since Ordyntsev hardly appeared in the hospital and did not communicate with other healers, they had no opportunity to do so earlier.

Because of the latter, the Serpent's personality was surrounded by a vast number of rumors and gossip.

Sometimes, Stas was attributed such things that if he had heard them, he would have just twirled his finger by his temple. If, of course, anyone in this world understood his gesture.

That's why among those who decided to work for Shiro were very promising candidates, who were at the level of an advanced healer.

"I'll be brief," Ordyntsev paced measuredly in front of the thin line of healers, who sucked in their bellies and tried to look even braver as he approached. "Each of you aspires to earn glory on the battlefield and gain fame in the clan. I already see what you are thinking."

Stas abruptly stopped and turned, pinning the assembled with a heavy gaze.

"Yes, I'm a healer, and I don't fight as skillfully as others, but wouldn't it hurt if I threw in a couple of techniques and accidentally covered myself with undying glory?" Stas said with an unpleasant smile, watching some warmasters awkwardly avert their gazes.

The social structure of prana users was built on strength and, to a lesser extent, cunning. And although healers were somewhat excluded from such a hierarchy, this did not prevent them from wishing to stop being "pariahs" and return to the general system.

That's why many healers saw nothing wrong with trying to fight on par with true fighters in the foolish hope of becoming like the others.

"But do you know what I think about this thirst for battle?" asked Ordyntsev and then immediately went on. "I think it's senseless stupidity! Moreover, intentional sabotage to your own clan!"

A murmur of dissatisfaction swept through the ranks of healers, which instantly passed as they were engulfed by the Serpent's bloodlust.

The surrounding fighters involuntarily wobbled, their faces taking on an aristocratic pallor. Insects flying in the air fell to the ground, and the light around seemed to darken slightly.

The reason for the assembled's impressibility was simple – after all, they were not warriors in the full sense of the word, so they felt the projected images of fierce slaughter and carnage much more sharply.

And secondly, thanks to Stas's phenomenal control of his own energy, he knew how to better direct emotion-charged prana, not letting it dissipate in the surrounding air for nothing.

Having ensured that even a hint of rebellion was suppressed, Ordyntsev continued much more calmly.

"I see many of you are offended by my words, and you disagree with me. Well, I'll explain my position," the healers were surprised again. The local society was quite inept at explanations. If a leader, no matter how minor, commanded something, his subordinates could only say "yes." "Explaining" one's orders was not customary at all.

"Whatever you may think about your combat skills, it's all pure bragging and foolishness. Fate has arranged for you to follow the path of healing wounds and saving lives. Yet you are eager to lay down your lives in vain in a senseless thirst for battles. You think that the techniques you have learned and the few trainings have prepared you for what will unfold there, but that is not true."

Ordyntsev let people feel his words.

"Before us all lies one of the bloodiest and most tense battles of this war. I'm sure even experienced warmasters will have a hard time surviving in that meat grinder, let alone you!" Stas did not spare the feelings of his subordinates, and this did evoke some reaction.

"But what about you!" a lone young voice rang out especially loud in the ensuing silence. The people around the brave soul stepped aside in fear, revealing the one who dared to speak up.

"Well, well, who said that? Who dared to interrupt me? Who is this little, self-important, impudent lad?" The Serpent's hissing tone made those closest to him recoil apprehensively.

"It was me," the quite young lad piped up less boldly, left to bear the brunt alone in proud solitude. An ordinary, open face, black spiky hair, modest equipment consisting only of a breastplate.

"So why have you gone silent?" Stas said sweetly. "Come on, speak up. We're all interested to hear."

The other healers tensely watched the man they considered a goner, yet they would be greatly surprised if they could see beneath the stretched veil of deceit.

Stas Ordyntsev didn't like to leave his schemes to the whims of fate, and since the upcoming conversation with the subordinate healers was of significant importance in his plans, he consciously tried to increase the chances of success.

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For this, he needed his own pocket strikebreaker. But unlike what such people usually do, he needed strictly the opposite – for the person he instructed to ask carefully prepared questions that would go against Ordyntsev's own opinion.

A controlled dispute, where you have a pre-prepared argument for every question, what could be more pleasant?

Finding such a person turned out to be not so difficult. His name was Katsu, and, due to his poverty, he once tried to befriend Kizashi. Thanks to the alchemist, Stas learned about him at some point.

In the end, it only took a couple of words and hints of future help for the lad to agree to follow the Serpent's instructions and join the squad. Otherwise, a more talented candidate would have taken his place.

Right now, Stas was going to play with all diligence in the show that he himself had staged.

"Shiro-sama, forgive me for my impudence," Katsu bowed deeply. "But unlike us, you have fought a lot and earned your glory through action. Why do you think we can't do the same?"

"Why do I think so?" the Serpent replied slowly. "Because I care whether you die or not. I see, you're all surprised? Well, I'll explain. Most of you probably know that I came to the Sumada clan being clanless and knowing almost nothing about prana. Because of this, the attitude towards me was corresponding. They threw me into battle after battle, and the fact that I'm standing before you is nothing short of a miracle."

Ordyntsev gestured actively, trying to explain his thoughts as fully as possible. His listeners were all ears.

"Out of a hundred people who would try to live my life, ninety-nine of them would have died ingloriously. And, similarly, none of you might survive! At the same time, each of your deaths means dozens of Sumada fighters dying from wounds. In essence, planning years ahead, each of you holds more value than five veterans!"

Stas noted with satisfaction how the listeners' faces brightened up with inner light. As they say, even a cat enjoys a kind word.

"And my words have a basis. It's you who are responsible for ensuring that wounded clanmates survive and return to the ranks later. Thanks to you, our warriors can boldly go into battle, knowing that they will be taken care of and not left to die."

It was somewhat amusing to observe men, experienced and well-acquainted with danger, beginning to act timidly. To Ordyntsev, the healers appeared as overripe fruit, ready to fall from the branch with just a hand's reach.

"Therefore, although you will follow the advancing army, your place will be in the rear under the protection of professionals. The wounded will be delivered to you by special orderlies from among ordinary warriors. I am currently recruiting for these units. Now, I want you to take inventory, allocate and prepare expendable healing materials. Healers Izamu and Yudai are appointed responsible for going to the storehouse," Ordyntsev chose the most experienced from the twenty.

Stas pretended he wanted to leave but stopped abruptly.

"Oh, right, regarding glory and respect. You're somewhat correct," the healers turned into one big ear. "As a healer, just like you, I'm saddened by the current state of affairs. And I plan to change that," Stas had no doubt that by today, his words would become known to all medics in this army and later to all the Sumada healers.

"Obviously, without us, the glorious warriors of Sumada would suffer too many irretrievable losses. Not to mention our help in everyday life. I will ensure that the title 'healer' is pronounced with pride and that we get what we deserve. Now, disperse and get to work. We have a lot ahead of us."

Without saying another word, the Serpent turned and walked away. Everything he wanted and needed to say, he had said. Attempts to persuade or talk further would only do harm.

Yes, the earthling's words could not fully convince these prejudice-afflicted people that all would surely be well. But he planted doubts and, most importantly, hope in their souls.

And if they are doubting now, then in the future, if everything goes as Stas planned, they will be completely conquered by the ideas of Shiro the Serpent.

Now, the main thing was not to let them die and not die himself, for the impending battle was said to be far from easy.

*****

"Shiro!" a loud cry made Ordyntsev, walking between the tents, stop in surprise and look back. Kizashi, radiant in the midday sun with brand-new armor, was rushing toward him. But if the alchemist thought his appearance would please the Serpent, he was sorely mistaken. "How glad I am to see you... Ouch, why are you looking at me so gloomily? Shiro-sens... Shiro-san?" Kizashi corrected himself just in time.

"What are you doing here?" Stas asked sternly, carefully examining Hideo's grandson's equipment. "Aren't you supposed to be at the Citadel?"

"I managed to convince Grandpa that now is the prime time to finally prove myself," Kizashi explained proudly. "Since we reconciled with Mizuno, this is my last chance to make a name for myself."

'Damn fool. If only this young halfwit had been in the ranks when I gave the lecture. It would have suited him perfectly,' Stas thought with dark irony, listening to the alchemist's enthusiasm.

Ordyntsev felt sick at the thought of how senselessly the alchemist of this level might die just because of one aged warmaster's dementia.

'Though, what did I expect? I'm sure Hideo sees nothing wrong with sending his grandson to war. For the decrepit prune, it's rather the order of things. But one way or another, it's time to take matters into my own hands.'

"Kizashi," Stas interrupted the endless stream of descriptions of life in the surrounding camp and dreams of military feats. "Right now, I've taken command of twenty healers, and I'm going to make them into a unit that will be famous throughout this war. I'd be glad if an alchemist of your level joined us. I'm sure there will be plenty of work for you."

Stas didn't try to pressure or insist; he just offered. Over the past years, Kizashi had also grown a lot in the social sense.

He was no longer that timid lad. He had made friends and earned respect.

It wasn't worth pushing too hard in such circumstances.

But the opportunity to play on the elitism of the possible place of service was very timely.

Kizashi longed for the best opportunity to gain the long-awaited renown and honor.

And where else could he earn fame in battle if not shoulder to shoulder with the famous Shiro the Serpent?

Though, if the young alchemist had not been so hot-headed and impatient and had first gathered information, he wouldn't have been so eager to serve under the Serpent.

But Kizashi knew nothing, so he immediately bit the hook that was presented to him, after which he began to thank the benevolently nodding Shiro.

Ordyntsev himself was glad that he was able to smooth out the consequences of Kizashi's folly to some extent.

In any case, the earthling was sure that he would do everything possible to keep the brilliant lad's head on the shoulders.

"Well, then it's settled," the young man concluded, almost jumping with impatience. "And now I need to pack my things and move to your camp. I'll go... Oh, damn! Where did this hole come from?! Ah, you crawling fiend! Just you wait!" the alchemist, cursing with all his might and shaking his fists angrily, limped away.

Leviathan, snickering wickedly deep inside, made innocent eyes at Ordyntsev, who was looking at her disapprovingly.

Her whole demeanor screamed that she had absolutely nothing to do with it. And the sudden hole that appeared right under Kizashi's foot was just a mere coincidence.

*****

"Shiro, that's not fair! You didn't say anything about your people sitting in the rear!" Kizashi whined, trailing behind the briskly walking Ordyntsev. "I told you what I want. Why didn't you say anything?"

"I see no problem," Stas shrugged nonchalantly. "You can return to Michiro and rejoin his unit."

"I can't!" Kizashi nearly jumped with irritation. "He said that since I've joined you, I can't go back, or it will cause confusion."

At these words, Ordyntsev barely hid a smirk. The earthling understood Hideo's senior apprentice, who was also not keen on being responsible for the life and death of his teacher's inexperienced grandson.

Stas was sure that, hearing the news that the Serpent had taken Kizashi under his wing, Michiro sighed with relief.

At that moment, only the three of them were present, if one counted Leviathan. Kenta, along with Mari, was tasked with "calibrating" the orderlies' unit to work seamlessly with the healers in battle.

Commander Koji Sumada, the same supreme who led the troops back at the siege of Gaibatsu, though not particularly joyfully, still allocated four dozen ordinary warmasters and four advanced ones for the task.

Minoru stayed in the camp in an underground room, waiting for the approaching battle. Over all the days that had passed, she had only uttered a few words, constantly pondering something. Stas didn't bother her, having ascertained she would still defend the future infirmary.

The man didn't know how long the lamia's state would last, but he planned to make the most of her confusion.

"You tricked me!" an accusing finger pointed straight at Stas's back. However, the alchemist had to withdraw it quickly as the tip of a snake's tail shot out of the ground and nearly tore it off. "Damned creature! Just you wait. You won't be coming out of your hole for a week, or wherever you snakes relieve yourselves."

"I didn't deceive you, Kizashi," Stas corrected the lad with satisfaction. "I merely offered you an opportunity, and you accepted it yourself. No coercion. Your words about lies hurt me."

"U-u-ugh!" the young warmaster groaned, dropping his head in defeat. He had realized that he had lost, and the Serpent would not let him go.

Nevertheless, even if he had lost this battle, it didn't mean he had lost the war.

The gazes of Leviathan and Kizashi Sumada met with a crunch. And although the structure of Levi's eyes did not allow her to blink, it did not prevent her from looking at her opponent with an ominous squint.

The alchemist was no better, casually fluttering his fingers over dozens of tiny vials of poison and hidden blades.

Stas sighed heavily but said nothing.

In the end, what children play with matters little, as long as it keeps them from crying.