"Your Excellency Marshal, do you wish to proceed with the subcutaneous injection now, or would you prefer to wait a while?"
Vilnia, who had just returned three glass syringes to the tray, looked up at Marshal Saint Arno.
"Let’s do the injection now!" Marshal Saint Arno extended his hand and responded to Mr. Saint Arno.
Vilnia picked up the tray and placed it by the window, then opened the alcohol bottle and used forceps that had been sterilized with high heat to extract a small tuft of cotton from the bottle.
The alcohol-soaked cotton emitted a pungent odor, slightly heavier by a few grams than regular cotton.
Then Vilnia gently pinched the alcohol cotton with one hand and held Marshal Saint Arno’s wrist with the other, softly swabbing the forearm. The cool sensation of the alcohol flowed into Marshal Saint Arno’s mind.
After a simple swab, Vilnia continued to grasp Marshal Saint Arno’s wrist with one hand, placed the forceps and alcohol cotton back on the tray with the other, and then took a glass syringe from the tray.
"Thank you!" A faint smile appeared on the slightly pale face of Marshal Saint Arno, who was in pain.
With a serious expression, Vilnia searched for the vein on Marshal Saint Arno’s arm and soon found its location.
Next, Vilnia perford a subcutaneous injection for Marshal Saint Arno, as the colorless and transparent liquid was injected into his body through the vein and began to take effect.
In less than a minute, a look of ecstasy appeared on Saint Arno’s face. He now felt as if his soul was about to reach where God resides, with every pore in his body seeming to shout. Though the pain from his abdon hadn’t been completely alleviated, there was a marked improvent.
"Marshal, how do you feel?" Vilnia’s voice reached Marshal Saint Arno’s ears.
Marshal Saint Arno slowly opened his eyes, nodded, and responded to Vilnia, "Very well! Please continue!"
Not hearing any major issues in Saint Arno’s words, Vilnia continued to administer the injection for Marshal Saint Arno.
After the liquid from the three glass syringes was injected into Marshal Saint Arno’s body, the pain "disappeared". He opened his eyes and thanked Vilnia again, "Lady Vilnia, thank you for your hard work!"
Vilnia, while tidying up the tools used for the injection on the tray, complained to Marshal Saint Arno, "Your Excellency Marshal! If you truly appreciate us, then please stop thinking about leaving the hospital! Staying here quietly is your task now!"
"Lady Vilnia, have you ever seen a wolf that stays quietly in a cage? The best end for any wolf is to die in battle when they grow old!" Marshal Saint Arno retorted to Vilnia.
"Your Excellency Marshal, you are not a wolf! This is not a cage! We rely have your health in mind, so please try to understand us!" Vilnia corrected.
"In my view, the hospital is a cage for imprisoning warriors! Every warrior who enters here inevitably loses sothing on the operating table!" Marshal Saint Arno replied to Vilnia in a low tone.
"Winning on the operating table is always better than losing your life on the battlefield!" Vilnia softly refuted, unable to comprehend why anyone would find glory in dying in battle!
"For so people, that’s true!" Marshal Saint Arno first agreed with Vilnia, then continued, "But for others, it’s better to die spectacularly on the battlefield rather than await fate’s verdict in the hospital."
"Your Excellency Marshal! If everyone held your view, our generation of dical staff would turn into corpse collectors!" Vilnia responded to Marshal Saint Arno, "In fact, the vast majority do not wish to die in battle; they desperately plead for us to save their lives!"
Marshal Saint Arno remained silent, knowing that there were few in the military who shared his sentints, as many soldiers drifted through life without contemplating martyrdom for war like Marshal Saint Arno.
"Alright! Your Excellency Marshal, I need to do my rounds!" Vilnia said, lifting the tray and pointing to the kerosene lamp on the table.
"No trouble for you!" Marshal Saint Arno shook his head, refusing Vilnia’s offer to extinguish the kerosene lamp, as he had just awoken and did not wish to rest imdiately.
"Very well then!" Vilnia nodded, then reminded, "Don’t stay up too late; I’ll return in two hours. If you’re not resting by then..."
"Understood!" Marshal Saint Arno nodded, "I will rest before you return!"
"That’s good!" Vilnia said, opening the door and leaving, leaving Marshal Saint Arno alone once again.
"She truly seems like a white-robed angel!" Marshal Saint Arno mumbled to himself.
After a while, a commotion ca from outside the door.
"Is this the place?"
"It’s here!"
"Then knock!"
The three knocks drew Marshal Saint Arno back from admiring the stars.
"Who?" Saint Arno inquired.
"Marshal, it’s Valvesky!" The Valvesky Envoy announced himself from outside the door.
Valvesky? Why would he co at this ti, could sothing have happened in Cria?
Marshal Saint Arno couldn’t help but beco tense. He quickly stood up and adjusted his clothes, then responded to Valvesky outside the door: "Please co in!"
The door opened once more, and only then did the Valvesky Envoy appear at the doorway.
Behind Valvesky, unexpectedly to Marshal Saint Arno, was Jero Bonaparte.
"Your Majesty!" Marshal Saint Arno showed a hint of surprise on his face, then hurriedly bowed to Jero Bonaparte in salute.
"No need for formalities!" Jero Bonaparte, considering Marshal Saint Arno’s health condition, raised his hand slightly and called out to Marshal Saint Arno.
Nevertheless, even though Jero Bonaparte had allowed Marshal Saint Arno to forgo the formalities, Marshal Saint Arno persisted in saluting.
Afterward, Jero Bonaparte, Valvesky, and Marshal Saint Arno sat on three chairs to converse.
"Mr. Saint Arno, how are you feeling now?" Jero Bonaparte glanced at Marshal Saint Arno.
At this mont, Marshal Saint Arno seed to have no major issues aside from a slightly pale complexion and a thin body.
"Except for occasional unbearable pain, there’s nothing much wrong most of the ti!" Marshal Saint Arno lightly answered Jero Bonaparte by avoiding the main point.
"What dication is the hospital giving you?" Jero Bonaparte continued to ask, suspecting whether Marshal Saint Arno had been injected with morphine.
But did such a thing really exist in this era? I rember it wasn’t applied until the 20th century, was it?
Jero Bonaparte, with only a vague understanding of dical advancent, forgot that the invention of the "Dream God" was in 1806, and its true period of action was in the mid-19th century, which was the tifra that Jero Bonaparte was in.
The "Dream God" gradually flourished with the developnt of subcutaneous injections, and it was during this period that it was given the miraculous efficacy of treating opium addiction.
Of course, the "Dream God" indeed had the capability to treat opium addiction, but those who consud it would beco addicted to this substance.
The two were not in the sa league at all.
Marshal Saint Arno told Jero Bonaparte the na of the "Dream God," and Jero Bonaparte imdiately realized that Marshal Saint Arno’s current state was rely sustained by dication.
Moreover, over ti, the body would develop a resistance to the dication.
By then, more dication would be needed for injection.
"How much are you injecting every day, and how many tis?" Jero Bonaparte asked Marshal Saint Arno.
"Four tis a day, about 9 milliliters each ti!" Marshal Saint Arno imdiately replied.
Marshal Saint Arno’s answer made Jero Bonaparte’s heart sink; with this dosage, Marshal Saint Arno might not make it through this winter.
"What’s wrong, Your Majesty!" Marshal Saint Arno noticed Jero Bonaparte’s odd expression and imdiately asked him.
"Nothing...nothing!" Jero Bonaparte shook his head and responded to Marshal Saint Arno, then shifted the topic to ask about Marshal Saint Arno’s condition in the hospital.
"Except for restricted movent, there’s nothing else!" Marshal Saint Arno replied.
"You’re indeed not in a condition to go out now!" Jero Bonaparte told Marshal Saint Arno, "You should stay in the hospital obediently!"
"Your Majesty, if a soldier dies in bed, it’s a humiliation!" Marshal Saint Arno retorted to Jero Bonaparte.
"Saint Arno, it’s not ti for despair yet! We must believe that God will surely look after those who fight in His na!" Jero Bonaparte comforted Marshal Saint Arno.
"Your Majesty, Russia also has a God!" Marshal Saint Arno replied to Jero Bonaparte.
"Russia has already been abandoned by God; they are destined to fall from the throne!"
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