"No, this is the Erdtree Mark."
Kamlin withdrew his right hand, and the pale gold tree-shaped pattern in his palm slowly disappeared.
Fine beads of sweat appeared on his forehead. He had just finished treating the previous patient and was now releasing the Erdtree's Favor again, which was quite a drain on his physical and mental strength.
The man lying on the ground slowly opened his eyes.
He blinked blankly for a moment, then focused his gaze on the black canvas above his head.
I'm not dead?
He uttered three words hoarsely, then suddenly realized something, and a wave of embarrassment washed over him.
Did I just... say my last words too early?
"Commander?!"
"Commander! You... you're alright?!"
"Boss, you... you really..."
The mercenaries who had expected to witness their leader's final moments disregarded their own pain and bruises and hurriedly gathered around.
The most intense reaction came from the deputy commander, Ashta. This muscular man, who had been holding back tears with red eyes just moments before, now had his eyes instantly filled with tears.
He practically knelt down beside the regimental commander, his voice choked with emotion. "That's wonderful, that's truly wonderful!"
He sniffled, trying to hold back his tears, but only more tears flowed. The man looked at his deputy commander, who was almost in tears, and then thought back to his dying words—
This is even more awkward.
Fortunately, the long-lost feeling of being filled with power dispelled the awkwardness, and he looked up at Kamlin.
"You're not lying? It really can cure diseases and save lives?"
Kamlin raised an eyebrow upon hearing this. "Isn't that a pointless question?"
"When did I lie? If I said I could save people, then I could."
"But you lot, you want to fight without saying a word, what are you planning? We kindly helped your compatriots get medical treatment, and this is how you thank us?"
Now, the entire Mercenary Corps of the Wind was in an awkward situation.
It's because what you said was exactly the same as what those association officials said that people were misled!
As the man silently organized his thoughts, pondering how to respond to Kamlin's question, the excruciating pain, like a red-hot iron being branded onto his heart, struck him again.
"Cough--!"
His body suddenly arched, and he began to cough violently and uncontrollably.
A large gush of warm liquid rushed up his throat, and another mouthful of blood splattered onto the waterproof floor.
"Boss! What happened? Wasn't it fine just now?!" Ashta, who was supporting him, looked drastically different.
Seeing this, Kamlin also frowned.
"Now I believe you really came here for treatment. Even the Erdtree's Favor couldn't heal you; your injuries weren't just simple external wounds, were they?"
Erdtree's Favor focuses on treating external injuries and restoring physical strength, and is remarkably effective for most physical wounds.
The man appeared to have recovered for a moment, but then he started coughing up blood again, clearly indicating a more serious internal problem.
The regimental commander clutched his chest, not answering his question, or rather, he was in too much pain to speak.
At that moment, Ashta, who was kneeling beside him, suddenly turned to Kamlin.
"If you can heal the commander, we're willing to grant your request! We won't cause any more trouble, and we'll also help you spread the teachings of the Erdtree."
He wasn't stupid; he didn't say something as foolish as "I can do anything."
However, Kamlin snorted softly upon hearing this.
"This—the vice-commander, is it?" Kamlin looked at Ashta, pointed a finger around, and said, "Can't you see the situation clearly?"
"Before we take action, let's all compromise; that way, the deal will be fair."
"But you attacked first, and we not only defeated you all, but also saved your commander's life."
"Isn't it a bit too presumptuous to still expect to use the previous conditions to get treatment?"
As he spoke, the two Blessed Warrior behind him simultaneously raised their hands, and golden light gathered, stretched, and in the blink of an eye condensed into two ancient golden longswords.
This wondrous sight of creation appearing out of thin air startled everyone in the Mercenary Corps of the Wind once again.
Who exactly are these guys? Are they really the legendary "ability users"?
They had heard rumors that the Holy Emperor of the Dorok Empire, as well as certain high-ranking elders in the Council of Monks, possessed extraordinary abilities such as injuring people from a distance—powers that transcended mortal martial arts.
These people in front of us can not only heal wounds instantly, but also conjure weapons made of light out of thin air—this seems to be even more powerful than the rumored abilities.
Ashta's face turned extremely ugly, and his hand on the commander's shoulder tightened unconsciously.
"So—what do you want?"
Kamlin met his gaze and said frankly, "It's simple. Join us, obey Lord Erdtree's orders, and help your people with us. That's not an unreasonable request, is it?"
Ashta subconsciously scratched his thick, long hair, a conflicted look on his face.
Logically speaking, the other party is right.
They were indeed in the wrong first, so it's reasonable for the other party to propose new conditions now.
But if they agree, wouldn't that mean the Mercenary Corps of the Wind, a team founded by their leader and fought its way through countless battles, would change hands?
The eldest brother—the regimental commander—would rather suffer from illness and sleepless nights than use the regiment's emergency and compensation reserves to seek treatment.
If he agrees to join someone else's ranks now, what will his boss think? The independence and dignity he's fought so hard to maintain—
I agree.
A weak voice rang out.
"----ah?"
Ashta suddenly turned his head, staring wide-eyed at his commander.
The commander glanced at him and said, "What are you so shocked about? Are you the commander or am I the commander?"
He then endured the burning pain in his chest and insisted on finishing his sentence: "But—there's a condition: you must swear in the name of the Erdtree you believe in that everything you just said is true."
He stared intently into Kamlin's eyes, not missing a single subtle change in the other's expression.
Oaths, especially those made in the name of faith, are extremely binding on some truly faithful people.
If the other party is just giving a perfunctory answer, or has something to hide, they will always reveal some clues when making an oath under such a solemn request.
Kamlin met his gaze for a moment, then placed his left hand on his chest and spoke without hesitation, "I, Kamlin, hereby swear an oath in service to the Erdtree." His voice was solemn and dignified.
"We will do everything in our power to help every person in need, regardless of their origin, race, or past. This oath is sworn by the Erdtree."
As he spoke, the pale golden tree-shaped mark in his palm reappeared, and he radiated a deep-seated piety.
The regimental commander observed carefully.
He noticed nothing unusual; when the other person swore, it was as if they were simply stating the most natural truth.
These people may genuinely want to help refugees.
"Alright, let's begin." His voice was even weaker than before.
"Start what?" Kamlin asked, a hint of confusion on his face.
"Start----Pfft-!"
The regimental commander collapsed, spitting blood.
Seeing his commander fall unconscious again, Kamlin slapped his forehead, a look of sudden realization on his face.
"Oh, so you meant starting to rescue you." He shook his head. "Sigh, look at the mess this has made."