Suleiman swung down from his horse in one smooth motion. The riders behind him dismounted as well.
A sharp-eyed soldier hurried forward, took the still-dripping head from Lushen, and stepped aside.
Suleiman's gaze passed over the soldier carrying away the head and settled directly on Lushen.
He didn't ask about the battle. Instead, he strode forward and caught Lushen's swaying body with both hands, helping him stand.
"Where are you hurt?" Suleiman's voice was low, but every person there heard him clearly.
Lushen trembled all over. The fatigue of battle and the searing pain of his wounds seemed to vanish the moment Suleiman spoke. He parted his lips, but it felt as though something had lodged in his throat. Not a word came out.
Suleiman's fingers touched the deep sword wound in Lushen's arm, where the bone showed, and his brow immediately furrowed. He turned toward the mounted soldiers, his voice rising sharply as he issued an unmistakable order. "Bandage every wounded soldier! Send those who are badly hurt down the mountain! Tell Evelyn that no matter how many Gold Dragons it costs, the soldiers who fight for me are to receive the best care!"
The loud command struck everyone like a clap of thunder.
Lushen's eyes grew hot. The emotions he had kept pent up burst forth, and tears mingled with the blood and grime on his face. He tried to drop to one knee again, but Suleiman held him firmly. The other three soldiers knelt straightaway, only for Suleiman to help them up one by one.
Suleiman said nothing more. His gaze swept over Lushen, taking in the deep wounds from head to toe. His clothes were soaked in blood and stuck to his flesh, making the injuries look horrifying.
"Sit down and take off your shirt," Suleiman