Within the territory, Old Wilson had arranged numerous knights to stand guard outside the castle.
At this point it was already the deep of night, pitch-black everywhere except inside the castle, which remained brightly lit. Old Wilson had changed into a fresh set of silver-white armor and was gently wiping the greatsword in his hand, not raising his head as he listened to the territorial reports from the knights inside the hall.
During the period of time when Old Wilson and the others had been away, the territory had not encountered any attacks from bandits; it seemed those bandits defeated last time had scattered in all directions and no longer posed a threat to the territory.
Merlin leaned diagonally against a chair, his complexion already carrying some color, no longer as pale as before. This was because during his time in the carriage, through continuous meditation, he had already slightly recovered some of his Mental Power.
It looks like the rib wasn't broken, but rather dislocated.
Merlin gently covered his rib area with his left hand. This was the injury sustained in the battle with Mage Jason. He had originally thought it was broken and would take no less than a month or two of recuperation to heal properly. But just now, Merlin had carefully checked again and discovered that the rib was merely dislocated and not broken, which made it much easier to deal with.
"Uncle Pula, my rib should be dislocated. I must ask you to help me set it!"
Pula was slightly startled and immediately stepped forward to help Merlin set the rib. However, Old Wilson stood up, quickly came to Merlin's side, and said in a low voice, "I'll do it, Merlin. Where is it dislocated?"
Merlin gently pointed to the place that hurt the most.