Medicine

The wound had split open.

When Soren released the spear, blood was already seeping from his leg in patches.

The earlier fighting had been somewhat better, but the final two leaping attacks had directly worsened his injuries. The wound that had already scabbed over had torn open again from overexertion, and it seemed even more serious than before. Soren was limping slightly as he walked and had no choice but to let the other caravan guards help him onto a horse.

Still, the price had been worth it!

Soren had gained 1,800 points of Slaughter Experience this time. If he wished, he could advance to a level 6 rogue right now.

"Get the caravan over here first."

Soren glanced at the guard captain. Seeing that the man was looking at him as well, he said in a low voice, "These worms are worth quite a bit."

"But the few of us will have a hard time digging them out. Get the others over here to help."

"Besides."

"I think you all need some money too."

After speaking, he looked at the other warriors. One was seriously wounded, and six had minor injuries. The lightly wounded ones were not too bad off; at most, they had been cut by the Burrowing Worms and would recover after resting for a day or two. But the seriously wounded warrior had lost an arm, which meant his career was over. Ordinary people simply could not afford the astronomical cost of Limb Regeneration. The casting materials and expenses for high-level divine magic were generally over 3,000 Gold Dalers.

And they had to pay the corresponding price as well. (A priest's life force.)

Otherwise, Soren would not have spent half a month searching for someone to cast Greater Restoration after he had been badly injured.

According to the customs of this trade.

If caravan guards encountered monsters or bandits while escorting a caravan, the spoils gained from battle belonged to the guards.

The money earned from selling them was also handled by the guards and used to settle and compensate the wounded.

No one had died this time.

That was already quite fortunate. After all, challenging Burrowing Worms above their level was bound to result in casualties. (Burrowing Worms: creature level 10. Caravan guards: average Professional Level 6–7.)

"Mark."

The guard captain nodded and instructed someone, "Go call them over."

"Let's work together and drag these worms out."

"Watch out for their blood."

"Their blood is acidic. Wrap your hands in cloth and try not to touch it directly."

Soren did not help this time. He merely sat on horseback and watched, saying, "The most valuable part of a Burrowing Worm is the shell on its head. It can be used to make armor, and it is the hardest part of its body."

"See the shell beside its mouth?"

"It can be used as a component for bracers. It's easy to sell."

"Pry off the shell on the front of its head."

"That is a natural enchanted shield. It can be used after a little crafting, and it can sell for 150 Gold Dalers in a city."

"Have someone strip off the shells on its tail."

"They can be used to make half-plate. The shell on its back is basically useless; the size is not very suitable."

"Unless you can find an expert to make it into a tower shield."

"The meat is useless."

"The blood sells well near the swamps, but hardly anyone needs it here."

"Have someone dig out the heart."

"Some wizards need hearts this robust. It should be worth around ten Gold Dalers."

As Soren spoke, he directed them in dissecting the Burrowing Worms and extracting the materials that could be sold for gold. The respect on the others' faces became increasingly obvious. It was not merely because Soren had finished off two Burrowing Worms, but more importantly because of his extensive knowledge. Teammates with such broad knowledge and seasoned experience were the most welcome. They could discover wealth that others did not know about and maximize the profits gained from battle.

They truly needed some money.

Their seriously injured comrade needed retirement funds, enough at the very least to buy some land and secure an income for the rest of his life.

The caravan soon arrived.

The merchants directed their workers to help drag the Burrowing Worms from the ground, then loaded the valuable parts onto the wagons.

A small group of caravan guards stood watch while everyone else busied themselves.

After the tense battle, the caravan guards finally showed faint smiles. According to Soren, selling these three Burrowing Worms would bring them nearly 1,500 Gold Dalers in profit. That was almost equal to what they would earn from this escort job. Even after deducting the retirement pension for their seriously wounded comrade, each of them could still receive around ten Gold Dalers.

Before they had begun handling the corpses, the guard captain had already discussed the matter with them.

Of the proceeds, he would take one-tenth. Seriously wounded Kosado would take fifteen percent as retirement funds. The other injured men would take twenty percent between the six of them. Those who had fought would take fifteen percent between the nine of them. Those who had not fought would take ten percent between the eighteen of them. Soren would receive the remaining thirty percent.

It was a very fair distribution.

Soren had contributed greatly in this battle, and without him, it would never have been so easy.

Someone might even have died!

A relatively fair distribution was the most important thing for maintaining a team. It mattered even more than the friendship forged through fighting side by side.

With roughly two hundred Gold Dalers, along with his past savings, the injured comrade would have enough to return home and buy around a hundred acres of land. He could hire farmers to cultivate it and become part of the wealthy peasant class. That would basically secure his income for the rest of his life, ensuring that he would not fall into utter poverty because he had lost an arm.

In truth, many adventurers cared deeply about this.

They made their living with blood on the blade, and no one knew when they might no longer be able to lift a weapon.

The caravan soon continued onward.

Because the caravan guards respected Soren, the other merchants and workers also regarded him with greater awe, their faces carrying a hint of curiosity.

A wanderer.

Such people were either notorious thieves or legendary figures of the wilderness.

Those who roamed the wilds alone were qualified to become the protagonists of bards' tales. (For example, Aragorn, the male lead of The Lord of the Rings.)

Inside the great carriage.

The Mysterious Woman glanced at the Burrowing Worm corpses, as though she could sense the fierce battle that had taken place, and instructed, "Have the merchants prepare compensation money."

"I will only take twenty percent of the proceeds this time."

The steward quickly withdrew and began discussing the matter with the merchants.

Clearly.

She had not realized that Soren had already maximized the battle's proceeds.

After speaking, the Mysterious Woman looked at Soren. Noticing the bloodstains on his thigh, her delicate brows furrowed slightly. "Come into the carriage."

"The wound on your leg needs stitching, or it will be difficult for it to heal."

Soren assessed the injury on his thigh, then got down from his horse and entered the carriage with slightly unsteady steps.

The interior of the great carriage was very spacious.

Soft woolen fabrics covered every surface. One glance was enough to tell how comfortable it was inside. A low table stood in the center, upon which rested a metal brass furnace of unknown purpose, along with a set of tarot cards casually tossed beside it. It was said that Northern Witches could use them to predict fortune and disaster. A faint fragrance hung in the air. It was impossible to identify, but it cleared the mind when inhaled, somewhat like the incense wizards used to aid them in memorizing spells.

The Mysterious Woman bent over to search through something. Her full, round buttocks resembled a full moon, drawing Soren's gaze despite himself.

Staring directly at a woman's buttocks was very impolite, especially when she was helping treat his wound.

So Soren quickly looked away and placed his clothes beneath his thigh to keep blood from staining the costly furs.

"Will you do it yourself, or should I?"

The Mysterious Woman took out a curved silver needle and a translucent fine thread. It was made from a special material that would not cause the wound to become infected and worsen.

Soren glanced at them and said in a low voice, "I'll do it myself."

"Very well."

The Mysterious Woman lit a candle and heated the silver needle over it. She then threaded the translucent line through it and handed it to Soren.

"Hiss!"

Soren took the needle, undid the bandages around the wound, then drove the needle into his flesh and pulled it through to stitch the torn skin together. The pain made him suck in a sharp breath. He gritted his teeth and sewed it up bit by bit. An injury of this severity had to be stitched if it was to heal quickly. Otherwise, even with a Healing Potion, it would not be very effective. Even slightly vigorous activity could cause the wound to split open again. Although Healing Potions carried some magical and divine effects, they were not all-powerful.

By the time Soren had stitched the wound, which was nearly half a foot long, his entire body was drenched in cold sweat!

The Mysterious Woman had been silently watching him. "It seems you've also learned medical bandaging?"

"It's an essential wilderness skill."

Soren answered casually, then took out bandages and salve, carefully wrapping them around the wound.

At the same time, a row of data appeared:

"Suturing successful."

"You successfully sutured the wound!... Your injuries have been reduced!..."

"Medicine +2."

Only then did Soren have time to look over his status page. He discovered that quite a few skills had appeared on it at some point.

They were all common basic skills.

"Name: Soren.

Race: Half-Elf.

Attributes: Strength 14 (+2), Dexterity 20 (+1), Constitution 19, Intelligence 18 (+1), Wisdom 15, Charisma 16.

Alignment: Lawful Evil.

Profession: Level 10 Commoner (Max Level) / Level 5 Rogue (0/3000), Second Tier.

Health: 52/52.

Experience: 3650 (Slaughter Experience), 100 points (Professional Experience) unassigned.

Skill Points: None.

Attribute Points: None.

Status: Normal.

Basic Skills—Stealth 103, Thievery 35, Lockpicking 45, Traps 55, Diplomacy 3, Appraisal 1, Deception 3, Performance 1, Lore 1, Evasion (Rolling) 5, Listen 3, Medicine 2, Spell Identification 1.

Legendary Skill—Versatile Hands Seal (Weakened State).

Personal Specialization—Dexterous Left Hand, Eidetic Memory, Iron Will.

Professional Specialization—Shadow Mastery, Military Weapon Mastery.

Combat Skill—Shadow Strike."

Apart from the basic skills he had initially mastered, Soren had also gained 3 points in Listen (against Burrowing Worms), 5 points in Evasion (against Burrowing Worms), 1 point in Diplomacy, and the 2 points in Medicine he had just gained.

It seemed that his basic skills could be improved through training!