Anson turned his head away, unable to bear the sight.
Dick, however, hesitated, uncertain whether to give it a try.
Kebi had thought the soldier was doomed, but when he noticed the witcher's wavering expression, he hurriedly asked, "Dick, do you have some way to save this boy?"
Hearing this, Anson leaned closer to listen as well.
The boy's dull eyes slowly brightened with a longing to live. "Master Dick, please save me! I'll do anything you ask from now on!"
Dick considered for a moment before slowly speaking. "I do have a method, but I can't make any guarantees. Your chances of surviving it are less than one in ten."
He lowered his head and looked earnestly at the boy sitting on the ground with his legs splayed out. "Carter, are you willing to try?"
"I am," the boy said without hesitation.
Kebi nodded solemnly. He now trusted the witcher unconditionally. "Dick, I'll leave everything to you."
Dick took a vial from his belt pouch and explained, "This potion is called Swallow.
"It's a preparation used exclusively by us witchers. It can heal injuries dramatically in a short time."
"That's wonderful! Hurry and give it to him!" Anson said in delighted surprise.
Dick paused. "We witchers have exceptional physiques, extraordinary endurance, and very strong resistance to toxins.
"But this Swallow Potion..."
"It's... poisonous?" Anson asked.
"That's right. To ordinary people like you, it's highly poisonous.
"Even we witchers can only drink a potion once every three hours. Young man, do you still want to try?"
"Yes, yes, I want to live. Master Witcher, I want to live."
"All right, then."
Dick twisted the stopper out of the vial and handed it to the gravely wounded young man.
The boy gulped it down. Veins bulged across his face and neck, his features contorted, and his eyes instantly became bloodshot. Sweat poured off him as he screamed.
Before long, however, his suffering ended.
His eyes rolled back, and he collapsed without a sound.
"Dick, is he dead?" Kebi asked urgently.
"Not yet." The witcher's Witcher Senses clearly detected the young man's heartbeat.
"He's only passed out. His immune system is now fighting the potion and the bacteria in his wounds.
"If he wakes up within two hours, his life will be saved. Now we can only leave it to fate."
"I understand. Thank you." Kebi nodded firmly, then turned to the young doctor.
"Anson, please help us look after the wounded. There's no telling when the Jatu soldiers will resume their attack."
"Rest assured, Young Master Kebi."
With the arrangements made, Dick and Kebi returned to the battlements and looked out beyond the walls.
They noticed what seemed to be an argument where the Jatu commander stood protected by the shield formation. Had a disagreement broken out?
Kebi had clearly noticed it too and hurriedly asked, "Dick, can you use your Witcher Senses to hear what they're planning?"
Dick nodded, then focused and activated his Witcher Senses.
Someone spoke behind the shield formation. It was none other than "Eldest Sister."
"Hahaha! I told you this priest wasn't up to much. Bloodlust alone would hardly break through their battle formation.
"Oh, has our esteemed priest worn himself out? Now you can't even cast Bloodlust anymore. If we make the brave and fearless Jatu soldiers storm the walls again, the casualty rate will probably be very high, won't it?"
Then Eldest Sister's voice suddenly turned vicious. "In other words, you've delayed the commander's great siege campaign. How will you atone for that?"
"You..." The priest faltered, then his voice trembled, clearly somewhat afraid of being blamed. "Commander, I meant well.
"This witch keeps insisting on giving our Jatu warriors that unknown potion of hers, but I know it's unstable. It's only an experimental product. Our warriors might turn into monsters after taking it. Please think it over carefully."
So that's how it is. Something stirred in Dick's mind.
He suddenly remembered how the so-called Second Sister had used a potion on him back in the city;
and the two Gargoyles she had brought were also stitched monsters that had drunk potions.
If all the Jatu soldiers turned into Gargoyles, they would be difficult to deal with.
After all, those monsters had wings and could fly.
Then the advantage afforded by the walls would collapse without even being attacked.
Next, Dick heard a man's voice.
He spoke in broken Common, presumably using it instead of Jatu to communicate with the witch.
"Listen to the witch."
"But..."
The priest beside him tried to stop him, but the Jatu commander's voice brooked no argument.
"We'll start by experimenting on thirty brave and fearless Jatu warriors. If that still doesn't work, we'll retreat. Other armies from the Northern Kingdoms might arrive to reinforce them at any moment."
"Excellent! Just what I'd expect from a Jatu commander. How wise," the Broom Witch said with a laugh.
There was no more useful information after that, so Dick deactivated his Witcher Senses.
Seeing the witcher's grave expression, Kebi hurriedly asked, "Dick, what were they discussing?"
"This next part won't be easy, Kebi. They're going to send thirty demonized soldiers to attack the city."
"Dick, what does that mean?"
"I'm not entirely sure myself, but we may soon lose the advantage of defending the walls.
"That aside, are these all the soldiers we have? Can we recruit some more from the city?"
Kebi smiled bitterly. "These are all we have, Dick. I keep feeling that I'm going to die here today."
Dick was about to comfort him when a sudden commotion arose in the city.
Kebi frowned deeply. Thinking infighting had broken out in the city, he quickly turned and headed downstairs without a word. Dick followed close behind.
Only when they reached the bottom did they discover that the situation was the complete opposite of what they had imagined.
Behind a midget stood eight fully armed, muscular men.
They all wore simple leather armor, and each held a long-handled cleaver.
"Val, what brings you here? What is all this..." Kebi asked in delighted surprise.
The midget before them was none other than Val, the major jeweler Dick had previously done business with.
"Hahaha, Young Master Kebi, with something as serious as a siege underway, how could I not come to support you? Look." He waved a hand behind him. "These are my best guards. They may not measure up to the regular knights of your Order of the Falcon, but they're capable fighters. I'll have them help you defend the city."
"Thank you so much. I truly don't know how to express my gratitude for your help."
Beside them, Dick noticed a group of sturdy dwarves, short but as broad as door panels, all holding hammers and looking their way with their chests thrust out.
Seeing them, Kebi exclaimed in delighted surprise again, "Master Blacksmith-Zeus, what brings you here?"
The dwarf laughed. "To support you too, of course."
This Zeus was the very blacksmith who had helped mend the witcher's armor.