"Ah, it hurts so much!"
"Do something, please!"
"Please, help me!"
Screams, groans, and wheezes merged into a continuous whirlwind of pain and suffering with no end in sight.
Even back on Earth, Stas Ordyntsev could hardly imagine the daily routine of military doctors whose duty it was to treat an endless stream of wounded soldiers arriving in such numbers that the medics simply couldn't operate on them all.
In such circumstances, you either go mad or start viewing the value of human life very differently.
Then, doctors face the harsh necessity of treating not everyone as their duty would have them, but those more likely to make it out alive.
Those who haven't made it through this merciless selection receive their share of painkillers and slowly die while the exhausted doctors try to save those who could still be helped.
Imagine that conveyor of flesh, endlessly being cut and sewn back together, the crack of bones being sawed apart, and the creak of stitches pulling tight.
When medications run out, the doctor has to manage with only the simplest tools, like a scalpel, threads, and a bone saw.
If you think about something like that for too long, you might not notice how you start slipping into a dark and frightening place where moans and pleas for help echo from all sides.
Yes, with magic, some of the horrors of military medicine become less relevant, but that does not affect everything else.
For example, the stock of medications, or in this case, potions and elixirs, began to run low after just three hours of active work.
The stream of wounded did not show signs of diminishing; on the contrary, it kept growing, as did the difficulty of providing the wounded with free "beds."
It was impossible to expand too much; otherwise, it would have been too difficult for the guards to cover the hospital from all directions.
Because of this, the wounded were often laid almost touching one another. The healers, as they navigated these unending rows of bodies, had to put in a conscious effort not to step on someone's face.
However, from the swearing that could be heard now and then, it was clear that they didn't always manage to avoid it.
Considering the number of patients, the healers' prana was rapidly depleting. Of course, Kizashi's restorative pills did their job, giving tired doctors strength, but they were only forcing their bodies to operate beyond their limits.
It couldn't go on forever. And although even after these three hours, the healers still had strength, a new danger revealed its predatory grin.
"Ready? Heave! Where are you grabbing like that? Don't you see the bandages?"
"As if I can see anything from here!" retorted a weary and mentally drained warmaster.
At that moment, they were tying the fourth wounded to him, and he felt far from ideal.
The reason for such brutality was simple – all of Sumada's somewhat serious forces had moved too far from the hospital, leaving it utterly defenseless.
Of course, Stas had warmasters under his command, and, counting himself and his personal guard, it was a very formidable force.
But all this force was useless, for instance, against an attack by a full-fledged combat squad of the Rangiku.
That's why, under the strict guidance of the commanders, the whole hospital was quickly being packed up and moved deep forward.
Specifically, under the wing of Sumada's new command post, which had also moved and was now directing a full-scale offensive.
As for trying to transfer the wounded to the Citadel, it was simply not feasible. They would all be killed on the way there.
Besides, there were so many wounded that transporting them within any reasonable timeframe was impossible.
Moreover, the clashes between warmasters had so disfigured the terrain that it would be problematic for an ordinary person to pass through it, unless that person had professional mountaineering equipment.
The only thing that Stas found somewhat comforting in this whole situation was that, from a certain perspective, he was still fortunate. Back on Earth, he had read fantasy novels about deadly magical battlefields where failed spells could kill even centuries later.
In that respect, elemental techniques were environmentally "safe," if you could call it that. However, the same could not be said about the still-buried untriggered seals of Tokitoru, patiently waiting for their moment to claim someone's life.
In the end, to meet even somewhat reasonable deadlines, the healers had to tie the wounded to warmaster porters.
The prana coursing through their bodies allowed them to move even with such weight, so such runners could effectively race back and forth. Often, the "porters" were those healed by Stas or his people. They still didn't feel well enough to fight, but didn't want to sit around doing nothing.
Yet, anxiety still gnawed at Stas as he continued to mechanically tend to the wounds of new patients. However, he remembered to take breaks.
As much as he wanted to, he did not have an infinite energy source. Transforming natural energy and ether still consumed his spiritual power, of which he had only a limited amount.
Some might say it needed to be trained, but in terms of development, spiritual energy was not like prana, which grew through rigorous training.
Moreover, only the onmyoji possessed such knowledge, and they zealously guarded their secrets. Minoru, on her part, had never needed to study such things, as she was innately a spiritual being.
"Master!" Stas's rest was interrupted by a running sentinel. "A large detachment of warmasters is approaching us!"
"Which clan?" Ordyntsev inquired businesslike, rising to his feet from the conjured stone bench. Nearby, Leviathan eagerly raised her head from her coiled body.
The air under her telekinesis began to vibrate. The enthusiastic serpent couldn't wait to show off her strength to her master.
Nonetheless, Stas remained calm. The approaching skirmish was nothing new, and Kenta had already successfully dealt with several such attacks.
But the fact that he had decided to call him, the Serpent, truly meant that the situation was dire.
"There are several different clans, master," the young warmaster began to brief Stas, almost bouncing with anticipation of the imminent fight as he walked alongside Ordyntsev. However, the experienced earthling's eye couldn't miss the flicker of fear in the lad's movements. "Judging by the colors of their armor, there are representatives from all the three main clans - Rangiku, Tokitoru, and Raigachi."
"That's bad. So, why did Kenta order to call me?" As they talked, they left the hospital territory and continued on.
Stas did not miss the concerned looks of the healers and the few guards left among them. They all understood that if Shiro the Serpent had been called, the situation was becoming critical.
Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.
"Our sensor felt that there are as many as four supreme warmasters among them, not to mention a bunch of advanced and ordinary ones," the sentinel's words made everything inside Ordyntsev tighten and then relax back after a couple of seconds.
Stas knew that sooner or later, it would come to this.
This world had taken numerous steps to kill him. With the persistence of a determined psychopath, it did so time and again, constantly complicating the conditions.
It was just a matter of time before Stas had to face supreme warmasters personally.
'So, I've reached the pinnacle of this world,' the man thought with a tinge of sadness: 'Years of labor, research, and experiments. Dozens of dangerous battles, and now I'm ready to face an embodiment of unrestrained power, which can only reside in a human body due to the oversight of the Kami.'
But Stas was no longer the one whose foot touched the surface of this world for the first time. That person had slowly melted away under the harsh Sun of this reality.
In his place came one who was capable of surviving, no matter what.
And he did not intend to die, wasting all his efforts.
Shiro the Serpent was ready to step over any enemy who dared to challenge him.
Soon, Kenta appeared, seriously explaining something to the warriors around him. Minoru stood a little to the side, gazing into the distance with apparent boredom, pretending she had just happened to come here by chance.
Seeing Ordyntsev approaching them, the fighters promptly straightened up and hurriedly cleared the way for him, respectfully bowing as he passed. Stas, with practiced indifference, ignored their skeptical and sometimes admiring glances.
News about how their commander could get even the mortally wounded back on their feet in a matter of minutes had first spread among the healers and then reached the ordinary fighters.
Humanity, as a social species, prefers to follow a strong leader. Furthermore, people like to see and know that their leader is the strongest and smartest.
In such a case, they feel as though they gain a part of his power and authority.
And in some sense, that's true, because if you follow a strong leader, it means you are insightful enough to make the right choice.
In this regard, Ordyntsev was confidently approaching the title of an excellent leader. Not a perfect one, because he was not a pure fighter or born Sumada, but certainly excellent.
Upon looking closely, all the warriors gathered here bore the marks of the battle, and their tired faces told that the fights had been anything but easy for them.
Some of them were even being patched up by healers.
"What's the plan?" Ordyntsev asked as he approached the weary Kenta.
The former supreme, with his usual expressionless face, briefly bowed to Ordyntsev before beginning to speak.
"This is a mixed detachment of the Alliance. It's clear they've been gathered from defeated detachments. They're behaving disorganized, but that doesn't stop them from posing a serious threat because of the four supremes. Nevertheless, not everything is so bad," Kenta immediately anticipated Stas's question. "Judging by their prana levels, they're considerably exhausted, so they'll be launching area techniques less often. Hence, the hospital still has a chance to survive. The main thing is to stop them here."
"What's my role?" Stas knew his strengths, and commanding troops was not among them. That's why he saw nothing shameful in submitting to someone who understood war and how to wage it better than he did.
"Here's the plan," the supreme began, slightly squinting as if he already saw the approaching enemies. "Two of them will be taken on by the Demoness," Minoru had earned that nickname when she disdainfully ignored Kenta's request to reveal her name. She didn't object. "I'll take on another one, but the last will have to be taken by you, Shiro-sama."
"Understood, I'll do it." Ordyntsev nodded resolutely. Now, he needed to project an aura of determination to bolster the morale of the warriors surrounding him.
"Your position will be on that hill," Kenta pointed to the left flank. "You will need to immediately attract the attention of one of the supremes, issuing an invitation to fight, and draw him aside so that our own troops don't fall under attack."
Once assured that Shiro understood everything, Kenta quickly continued the interrupted briefing, distributing the rest of the warriors to their positions.
Stas himself, having confirmed that he would not receive any other useful information, moved to the designated hill.
But first, there was a small matter to resolve.
"Levi, you can't come with me," Ordyntsev said coldly, ignoring the indignant snake that emerged from the ground in his path.
"And no, I won't cancel my order," Stas immediately responded to Leviathan's arguments. "Yes, you've achieved a lot and are already deadly even to a warmaster at, let's say, a veteran level. But between a veteran and a supreme often lies a chasm filled with hundreds of their slain enemies. And not just ordinary enemies, but those no weaker than veterans. I can't let you die."
"No, I'm not duplicitous. I'm far better prepared for such battles and am confident in my victory. If you want to help me, then take an observational position and send me data on the enemy's movements."
Despite being upset, Leviathan obeyed and slithered away.
Stas let out a heavy sigh. With each passing year, it was getting harder to keep her from battles.
Yes, the man perfectly understood that Leviathan required complex and risky challenges to develop further. She had to overcome them herself to grow as a personality.
And there was nothing surprising about it.
If you do the math, Leviathan was, at the moment, about sixteen years old.
In other words, not very smart, with little knowledge of the world, but with confidence in her own uniqueness and abilities through the roof.
'At least she doesn't have a hormonal transition period, or I would have gone completely gray with her.'
Lately, the snake had been demonstrating her independence and autonomy in every possible way.
This was evident in her long absences and rivalry with Kizashi.
No, Ordyntsev was not blind and remembered that their animosity had started long ago, but if it used to resemble childish jealousy for attention, now Levi was trying to assert herself at the expense of others.
Perhaps, if Stanislav were an ordinary person, he would be concerned about his ward's tendencies, but he was not.
Having gone through a rather extensive school of life, Ordyntsev believed that evil and vindictive people fare much better in life than good and forgiving ones.
And since he wished only the best for his snake, he watched her first steps as an emerging personality with approval.
On the other hand, there was an important lesson hidden here, which Leviathan still had to learn.
At this moment, Leviathan was testing the mettle of her, let's say, peers. It would be a mistake to assume that Kizashi was the only one with whom Levi had clashed.
Mari, too, had once inquired how much Stas valued his snake. Back then, Ordyntsev was quite preoccupied, so he succinctly stated he would kill anyone for it.
This exchange gave Mari much to ponder, and then their rivalry gradually dissipated.
But let's return to the invaluable lesson.
After the future larva of a society member tests its strength in confrontation with peers, it turns its curious gaze to those who stand higher or outside the usual system.
We are talking about family and friends. In this case, Ordyntsev himself.
And if Leviathan ever dared to challenge him or tried to become his enemy, Stas would make it abundantly clear why even the vilest of men should not lose their temper or lay a hand on their family.
Family and friends, in the man's understanding, were something almost sacred.
He believed that no matter how strong you were, you should always have those you can trust. His family held such a place for him. This, by the way, is why local girls were of no interest to him.
Apart from the fact that they were foolish, with their overlook limited by the development level of their world, their culture and mentality would never allow Stas to trust them even a little.
Perhaps because of the same attitude, Stas had hardly any comrades back on Earth, and very few whom he considered true friends. He was just too demanding of those he wanted to trust.
Ironically, for the same reasons, he also contacted relatives very rarely. Being a rather unfriendly person, Ordyntsev did not want to hurt his loved ones with harsh words, so he preferred to keep his distance.
He knew himself too well and understood that his unrestrained words could easily offend his parents or other close kin.
That's why he had already planned a future conversation with the unsuspecting Leviathan about the importance of family ties.
The level of the snake's development allowed her to be classified as a "younger sister."
And as an older brother, Ordyntsev did not want Levi to be blown up, burned, pulverized, or sliced into pieces in a fight with a supreme warmaster.
Meanwhile, there, in the distance, finally appeared those they had been waiting for so long.
The enemies were in no hurry. Obviously, they realized that a surprise attack would not work, so they conserved their strength and prana, not wasting them unnecessarily on running.
In any case, it was time for Stas to start playing his role.
The prana that burst from the earthling's body aggressively burrowed into the ground, claiming and subjugating all the surrounding area.
More and more portions of energy rushed into the soil, causing the sandy surface to tremble as if something truly enormous was moving deep below.
As it turned out, this was exactly what was happening.
In a second, the grass that had survived all the battles here scattered to the sides under the relentless movement of grayish steel-tinted scales.
The crumbling earth revealed more and more scales as Ordyntsev himself began to rise slowly into the sky.
Dozens of places around him also showed movement. Breaking through the earthen slabs and the crust of soil baked by Rangiku's techniques, the titanic rings of a gigantic serpent emerged.
However, this was nothing compared to the head of the stone asp created by Stas, rising into the heavens.
At the very top, right on the nose, with his arms folded, stood the Serpent himself, proudly surveying the battlefield before him.
Considering the size of the created technique, it was not so easy to notice him, yet the eyes of the advancing enemies unmistakably looked directly at him.
The charge of prana used by Stas and the complexity of the technique declared his claim to the supreme rank.
And as if all that wasn't enough, as if at the click of an invisible lighter, the asp's eye sockets burst into roaring violet flames that quickly began to spread throughout its body, as if illuminating the steel scales from within.
The refined and improved technique of the Devouring Serpents was ready for battle.
Stas knew that in the future he would need the so-called "big guns." This technique was created to become his signature move, capable of driving the grandeur-loving warmasters to heights of ecstasy.
And no one in the whole world could make Ordyntsev admit that he simply wanted something akin to the titan technique of Sumada.