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The Silvermoon Knight and Allen stood outside the infirmary tent, listening to the brothers' argument within.
Though the siege had been brief, casualties were inevitable. The magitech cannons were no mere decoration—no matter how outdated, a single shot could still punch through several armored soldiers.
This wounded man had been particularly unlucky: shrapnel had torn off his right leg. He survived, but that limb was forever left outside the walls of Sweetdew City. Even so, he was fortunate compared to others. Several soldiers struck by the same blast hadn't even left intact corpses behind.
The accompanying priests had to conserve their divine power. They dared not expend it on regenerating lost limbs; that would have to wait until after the war, once he was sent back home.
For many soldiers of Lyon, being wounded in battle was the highest honor, a testament to their devotion to the Lord of Dawn....
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