Did a fight break out?
Is someone injured, or worse, did someone die?
Garrett squeezed through the crowd, picking up his pace. After a few steps, Seraina caught up from behind, boosting him by the elbow. Garrett felt as though he was flying through the clouds—lifted off his feet.
He was carried by Seraina, not touching the ground, speeding forward. They rushed through corridors, across courtyards, around corners. Far away, several illumination spells rose up, lighting the bushes and the pond where men and women enjoyed their merry-making—one pair after another scattering like birds and beasts.
...It seems there are quite a few revelers outside the banquet hall... So, is this why the fun overturned?
Garrett hastened his steps. Under the light of the illumination spells, a group of high-ranking officials moved briskly. The tails of Marquis Tergu’s tuxedo fluttered conspicuously...
“What a rotten ally! Turning our noble priests into blood servants, we cannot afford such allies!”
From a distance, the booming reproach of an orc prince carried through:
“It’s not a blood servant... it’s an offspring...”
A loud sound—unclear whether it was a slap, a punch, or something else—but a vampire was sent flying, tracing an arc in the air, landing right at Garrett’s feet.
Garrett looked down and thought, wow, his jaw twisted all the way to his back! With his cervical spine twisted like that, he must be dead, right?
Then he saw the vampire propping himself up on his hands, grunting as he pushed himself up. His eyes were hazy, and he even managed a feeble grin, as if he wasn’t in much pain...
Alright, the vampire’s physique is different, being beaten to this state probably doesn’t need saving. Garrett continued to rush forward, only to hear chaos ahead:
“Get out of the way! Let me end her misery quickly!”
That was a roar from an orc prince;
“Let’s try to save her first...”
This was the calm, deep persuasion of Archmage Lebron;
“No! Your Highness! Let me save her! Save her!”
This was the desperate wail of an orc warrior;
“I can withdraw the True Blood, but if I do it now, she will definitely die...”
That was the somber explanation of Marquis Tergu...
“Out! An orc priest would rather die than become a vampire!”
The cacophony was overwhelming. If the decibel level in the banquet hall was 60, this area could easily exceed 90.
Garrett, dragged by—or dragging—Seraina, plunged into the crowd. He saw a red-haired girl lying on the ground, breathing more out than in, her eyes half-open and clearly in critical condition. ℞Ãℕ𝔬βЁ𐌔
Another orc threw himself over her, shielding her from the furious orc prince, pleading bitterly. His gray tail swept back and forth, his ears and tail suggesting he was either from the wolf or dog tribe?
Garrett instinctively assessed the girl’s condition. Her complexion was deathly pale, her breathing weak...
Two fresh bite marks on her carotid artery, bright red, looked recently healed...
Clearly, she was in hypovolemic shock, so, was it the vampire who had been sent flying who caused this trouble?
Garrett reflexively wanted to rush down to examine her, barely holding back. He circled halfway around and asked Archmage Lebron:
“It’s tough...” Archmage Lebron shook his head, looking utterly weary. Everything was settled, how could this happen now?
Orcs are fierce, vampires are proud. If they really tore into each other, the newly forged alliance would instantly collapse...
“She has lost too much blood. Only if the initial embrace is successful, she can be saved. If we withdraw the True Blood now, she will die immediately—And healing spells cannot be used, True Blood conflicts with healing spells, she would die immediately!”
Garrett was not content to give up. Hypovolemic shock, well, she’s not dead yet, there’s still a chance to save her. After all, if the rescue fails, she’s just dead, right?
Archmage Lebron pondered silently.
Letting the girl die would be detrimental to the council;
Letting Garrett try, and if it fails—which was highly likely—would also be detrimental. The orcs losing a priest would not likely consider Garrett’s intentions kindly, and resentment was a high possibility;
Not letting Garrett try, after he had proposed it, would make the orcs think the council was just standing by
Amidst his hesitation, Garrett had already stepped forward, facing the orc prince. He stared into the prince’s eyes, opened his arms, and stood between him and the vampire girl:
“Can I try to save her? If it’s just excessive blood loss, I just saved someone a few days ago!”
“That’s right, that’s right, he just saved someone!”
Viscount Seibesh appeared out of nowhere to testify. The orc prince’s eyebrows furrowed with anger, then forcibly suppressed it:
He recognized this healer. It was he who had opened up the chest of his servant and brother, the werewolf Simon, and brought him back from the brink of death. Now, he wanted to save someone...
“Please.” The orc prince’s voice was deep, reaching down. “Please proceed without reservations... If it doesn’t work, the orc race will still be grateful for your help.”
Garrett nodded and quickly dove down to check. The red-haired girl was wrapped in a sheet, seemingly only in that sheet. A fiery red tail peeked out from under the sheet, glossy and slick...
Garrett’s mind raced. What was the blood type of a fox...
“Hurry, get everyone in here! All your subordinates!” He turned his head and commanded the orc prince. His tone was firm, without hesitation. After speaking, he rummaged through his space bag, starting to pull out items:
“Seraina, carry her inside! Your Excellency the Archmage, please clear the room, keep unrelated people out! Marquis, when I say it’s okay, please withdraw the True Blood!”
The silver dragon girl responded, grabbing the orc lying on the red-haired girl and flinging him far away. She scooped up the fox girl in her arms, glanced around, and ran to the nearest room.
Garrett followed, quickly pulling out Ringer’s solution, syringes, seeds. Ah, the ion content in orc blood, the osmotic pressure, he hadn’t measured those before. Now, he had no choice but to treat a dying fox as a living one!
He raised his hand, and a levitation spell enveloped a saline bottle, lifting it high. A vine burrowed into the bottle, connecting to the syringe. With a quick touch, the needle pierced the shriveled vein, and Ringer’s solution flowed in immediately.
“Prince Your Highness! Have your people arrived yet!—Quick, let me test her blood type!”
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