Chapter 16

Chapter 16

In an instant, Ning Chan thought of many things, but ultimately chose to save lives.

He merely "threw up a smokescreen" over himself, ensuring those present wouldn't notice his unusual methods.

Ning Chan furrowed his brows, staring at the wounds before him. After a moment of contemplation, his expression gradually steadied.

"Their injuries are too severe. Simple Sacred Plants and blessed water won’t be enough—we’ll need *that* remedy!

Though it is precious, human lives matter more.

Wait here and don’t touch them. I’ll fetch the medicine."

The woman, whose mind had nearly gone numb with panic at Ning Chan’s earlier inaction, felt warmth surge through her chilled body at his words.

"Really? Then please, save us. Whatever the cost, we’ll pay whatever’s owed." She lowered her head, bowing respectfully to Ning Chan.

Had she not been supporting someone, she would have already dropped to her knees in thanks.

Meeting the gazes of those around him, Ning Chan nodded and swiftly left.

Pado, who was applying medicine as instructed, glanced at Ning Chan’s retreating figure, his eyes clouded with doubt.

Did their church truly possess such a thing? He had no idea—had the bishops been hoarding it? Would Little Chantulika face trouble when retrieving it?

Lost in thought, he pressed too hard. The patient yelped in pain, startling Pado into a flustered apology.

Shaking off his thoughts, he refocused on his task.

Ning Chan entered the storeroom, selecting several herbs. A wisp of flame from his Superpower withered them instantly.

A light squeeze crumbled them to dust.

He then retrieved a few moisture-rich fruits from the plant pile, squeezing their juices onto the powder. After mixing, he rolled the mixture into incense cones.

Another flare of his fiery Superpower swiftly dried the damp "incense."

Though Ning Chan worked quickly, the wait stretched like an age before he returned.

As he reappeared, he saw Mo Beila arriving with the second batch of "ointment," instructing him to assist with wound cleaning like Pado.

Meanwhile, Ning Chan took out a "healing incense" stick from his robe, breaking off a piece as long as the wound, and placed it directly into the raw wound.

He lit a slender incense stick with a candle, letting the breeze tease its ember, tendrils of smoke spiraling up.

Tilting the thin incense, he touched its glowing tip to the "healing incense." Instantly, fire licked across the wound, searing the surrounding flesh as the ash fused into the injury, forming a dark, protective crust.

With that simple motion, the bleeding ceased abruptly.

The onlookers stared at the healing incense as though beholding a miracle, hope flared in their chests—their lives might yet be saved.

Ning Chan repeated the process, staunching the bleeding for the others.

To their untrained eyes, stopping the blood meant a chance at recovery.

But was it truly that simple? Of course not.

Field medics sometimes burned gunpowder on wounds to halt bleeding and sterilize—yet Ning Chan’s "healing incense" couldn’t even achieve instant combustion.

Therefore, what made the "healing incense" burn was not the incense itself, but Ning Chan's fire-based superpower.

This little flame was no trouble at all for Ning Chan—he could cast it hundreds of times without breaking a sweat.

Thanks to draining the energy from those two ancient trees earlier, Ning Chan's Superpower had recovered to the fourth tier. Combined with his vast spiritual energy now, he could use his Wood-element Superpower to treat a few more people.

So, under the cover of the flames, Ning Chan's Wood-element Superpower hovered briefly over their injuries, helping the deeper flesh and blood regenerate faster.

These people had no idea that beneath their "scabs," their deepest wounds were already mostly healed.

To play up how rare and valuable the "healing incense" was, Ning Chan only treated the life-threatening wounds, leaving the rest to be patched up with the "salve."

After handling the most severe injuries, Ning Chan turned his attention to their fractured limbs.

He scratched his head, looking stumped, then pressed his fingers against the obviously twisted spots a couple of times.

"Saint, is my arm done for? If I’m crippled, what will happen to my whole family?" The burly man cradled his arm, sobbing like a kid.

Watching the bearded man sob, Ning Chan opened his mouth as if to say something but ultimately bit back his words.

To heal a fracture, the bones had to be reset first. If there were splintered bone, they had to be pushed back where they belonged.

Otherwise, even if the wound healed, the limb would remain unusable.

Ning Chan could handle the bone-setting, but resetting them was not his strong suit.

His enhancement was in Superpower, not physical strength—he just didn’t have the muscle for it.

Out of options, Ning Chan had to seek help.

"Si Qi'ao, mind helping me set their bones?"

As time passed, the church's Knights had also arrived upon hearing the news.

Noticing the "ointment" and "healing incense" used by Ning Chan and Pado, they muttered to each other—if they could score some of that stuff, their chances of survival in battle would be much higher.

Listening to their murmurs, Ning Chan's gaze settled on Si Qi'ao, who stood closest to him. This man had only recently joined the Knights, and he was still an unknown. But compared to dealing with others already branded as criminals, Ning Chan could tolerate him a bit more.

"Reset bones? No clue how to do that." Si Qi'ao, suddenly called upon, found it odd but answered honestly. Though exaggerating his skills might earn him favor, he knew nothing about it—he’d be busted the second he tried.

"It’s fine. I just need you to lend me your strength. Just copy me—hold his arm, and when I count to three, yank hard. Can you do that?" Ning Chan placed his hand on the bearded man’s arm and guided Si Qi'ao’s hand over his own.

Seeing that he was really being asked to step in, Si Qi'ao hesitated, scratching his cheek before finally covering Ning Chan’s hand.

When Ning Chan counted to three, he yanked as hard as he could—just like the first time he helped his mother wring out a bedsheet. He didn’t know how, but he followed instructions.

Using Si Qi'ao’s strength, Ning Chan twisted his hand and realigned the bearded man’s arm. Then, he had the other Knights split a few wooden planks, applied anti-inflammatory ointment, and bound them to the man’s arm with hemp strips.

A section was left protruding so the man could sling it around his neck, preventing the arm from shifting out of place.

Feeling the tight pressure around his arm, the bearded man, oddly enough, felt better.

Though he had never heard of such a method, since the Saint had employed it, it must work.

After a whole morning of effort, their injuries were finally treated.

To prevent them from moving around and worsening their injuries, Ning Chan had Miced tidy up the guest rooms to use as sickrooms.

Seriously though, after going through so much effort to save them this time, it wouldn’t make sense to just let them go without keeping them until they recovered—they were his walking testimonials.

Under Ning Chan’s "meticulous" [sarcastic] treatment, those with minor injuries healed quickly.

Of course, before leaving, they didn’t forget to fulfill the requests Ning Chan had made earlier.

As for the severely injured, not only were their lives saved, but their conditions improved day by day. It wouldn’t be long before they could walk again. For their families, this was undoubtedly joyous news.

Since this accident happened within the city, most of the injured came from families that weren’t poor. The money paid to Lis Church was dozens of times higher than the medicinal herbs' cost.

In addition to being grateful to Ning Chan and the others for saving them, they also wanted to "purchase" some Sacred Plants and blessed water from the church to keep at home.

Ning Chan certainly wouldn’t refuse these people who came with money seeking medicine. To change this era, money was indispensable.

Considering that the other acolyte trainees had only just begun learning, Ning Chan used the explanation that Sacred Plants required growing time, asking them to wait a little longer.

During this time, Ning Chan taught the other acolyte trainees how to identify plants, understand their properties, and even mix small remedy pills.

He currently taught Pado and the others two types of pill-making methods—one for fevers and one for diarrhea.

Though fevers could have many causes, Ning Chan’s pills were meant for colds and fevers. If the fever didn’t subside after taking the medicine, they should quickly bring the patient to the church.

On the day the pills were announced to be ready, a line snaked outside the church once more.

If Lis Church could even save people with broken arms, legs, or gut wounds, who’d doubt their medicine worked?

Moreover, in these times, people regularly died from just a fever or diarrhea. Now that there was medicine to treat them, how could they not stock up? They had to—stocking up 8-10 pills was wise.

If they didn’t have enough money, they could always dig up medicinal plants as payment. And if they couldn’t find any, they still had their strength—they could dig fertilizer pits.

That’s right. After everyone had paid their dues, they finally understood what the saint apprentice meant by the place for accumulating fertilizer.

That thing was a manure pit, and the fertilizer was made from those gross waste—well, not exactly. There was some difference. This stuff wasn’t foul-smelling; it even had an oddly sweet smell!

Nobody could guess Ning Chan’s secret ingredient, but after fermenting for a while, it started to smell pleasant.

Sometimes, they even worried that outsiders, starving and desperate, might smell it and try to sneak a taste.