Hearing that, Lafor hurriedly tried to sit up. "I want to go too!"
The Third Regiment was sending a force to take part in the decisive battle, and he couldn't miss it. Hundreds of thousands of troops would be fighting. He had heard that reinforcements from the other Northern Frontier nobles were coming to fight the Barbarians too. How could a soldier miss a battle on that scale?
Lafor had already forgotten how desperately he'd missed his family when he'd been on the brink of despair.
But no matter how hard Lafor struggled, he still couldn't feel his left foot. The bed creaked beneath him as he tried everything he could think of, yet he couldn't get to his feet.
Just as he began to fear his left foot was ruined for good, the ward door opened. A medical worker in a white coat walked in.
He had heard the noise from outside. The moment he saw Lafor struggling to rise, he stepped forward and pushed him back onto the bed.
"Do you want to lose that left leg?
"You just had surgery. The anesthetic the director used hasn't even worn off yet. How dare you try to get up now?
"Don't think you're tough just because you can't feel the pain. In this Regimental Infirmary, you follow medical orders!"
Lafor felt a little relieved.
"Doctor, does that mean my left foot is all right?
"When will I get better? Can I recover before the troops leave?"
He wanted the doctor to confirm it.
"Hah!"
The medical worker glared at him. "I don't know when your leg will heal, but if you keep this up, you'll ruin it sooner or later.
"What you need to do now is stay in bed and rest. Your leg wound went without proper treatment