Steel, Guns, and the Industrial Party in Another World
Chapter 452: Injuries

Chapter 452: Injuries

The flames in the hearth flickered dimly and brightly, as if reflecting the current mood of the house’s owner.

The chieftain of the Blood Bull Tribe watched the flames with an iron-blue complexion.

His heart was filled with such anger and sorrow, coupled with an overwhelming concern that he could barely suppress.

A straw curtain partitioned off a small area at the back of the chieftain’s longhouse.

From there, sounds akin to those made by animals could be heard: the howling of ice wolves, the roaring of black-spotted tigers, and the chirping of birds.

To the uninformed, it would seem as if Chief Assoye kept many animals in his house.

However, the reality was different. The noises were made by shamans, an ancient profession among the orcs. By imitating the sounds of various animals, they communicated spiritually with the Spirits of the Wilderness—the most ancient deities worshipped by the orcs—seeking blessings for powers beyond the ordinary, or so they claimed.

On the other side of the straw curtain, the shamans continued their animalistic vocalizations while performing a strange dance.

Assoye was eager to burst in and inquire about his son’s condition, but he dared not make a move, fearing his recklessness would offend the deities. The shamans had repeatedly warned him before starting their ritual.

Just two days ago, his son Gunther had been carried back to the Blood Bull Tribe.

At that time, they were panting heavily and in a state of panic, as if they had just lost a battle—which, Assoye later learned, was indeed the case.

The sight of his son nearly made Assoye faint.

Gunther’s arm was tightly bandaged, but the large blood stains and his pale complexion told Assoye that his son was seriously injured.

At that moment, Gunther could barely stand on his own. Several other warriors also had similar injuries.

Under his stern and cold gaze, his son and subordinates shakily recounted the events and pointed out that their injuries were caused by an evil wand.

The chieftain of the Blood Bull Tribe was seething with rage. Had it not been for his son’s severe injury, he would have already grabbed a club to teach him a lesson.

He was unsure how to channel his anger.

While contemplating how to punish Gunther and his men, the situation worsened—their injuries began to deteriorate.

The initial signs of worsening were swelling and pus oozing from the wounds, followed by fever, with their foreheads growing increasingly hot to the touch.

Orcs rarely fell ill, so this was an alarming development.

That very night, two robust warriors succumbed, called away by the Spirits of the Wilderness.

Worst of all, among those suffering from fever was his son, Gunther.

…

The sound of the longhouse door opening interrupted Chief Assoye’s thoughts.

It was his loyal guard, Yerye.

Without lifting his head, Assoye asked weakly, “How are the others?”

Yerye shook his head, “Chief, two have temporarily made it through and their fever is subsiding. The rest… it’s still not looking good. Look at this.”

He reached into his pocket, pulling out something to present to Assoye.

The chieftain of the Blood Bull Tribe carefully examined Yerye’s palm. He saw several metal fragments.

“What are these things?”

Assoye picked one up and examined it closely.

Yerye explained, “These were extracted from the bodies of the injured warriors.”

Could these be the objects that brought his son and warriors to the brink of life and death?

Yerye explained, “I have examined these, and they are made of lead. Based on the descriptions from those who returned, I believe the wand is similar to a slingshot or some such weapon, and these…” he shook his palm, “are the projectiles fired from the slingshot.”

“Chief, they are terribly dangerous bullets. Though they appear to be just holes on the skin, the damage they cause inside the body is extremely brutal.”

“I understand,” said Assoye, looking at his guard. “Please take care of the wounded warriors for me.”

“Yes, Chief!”

After bowing, Yerye left the longhouse.

Assoye continued to sit beside the fire pit, staring blankly into the flames.

“Chief!”

The long-awaited voice finally came.

Three shamans lifted the straw curtain and approached Assoye.

“Lord Gunther’s condition has been temporarily stabilized, and his body temperature is no longer rising. However…”

The word “however” pulled Assoye back from the brink of joy.

“What do you mean ‘however’?”

“To completely heal Lord Gunther… we must… we must…”

Assoye frowned, “Don’t beat around the bush in front of me.”

“We must completely amputate his injured arm.”

Assoye was furious, “What? My son will become a cripple, do you know what that means?”

The lead shaman boldly said, “There’s no other way. Though he’ll lose an arm, Lord Gunther can save his life. If we keep the arm, he might…”

Assoye nodded in agony.

“Alright, if that’s your judgement, then proceed as you suggest.”

The shamans bowed and went to prepare.

Assoye went to his son’s side. Gunther was delirious, muttering nonsensically.

He looked at the wound on Gunther’s left arm, a bloody hole clearly visible. The area around the wound was cleaned, showing swelling.

Was there a lead bullet inside there too? He recalled what Yerye had shown him.

The shamans quickly returned with their tools, the most conspicuous and frightening of which was…

A saw!

“Chief, please allow me to tie up Lord Gunther. Once the surgery starts, I fear he won’t be able to bear it…”

Assoye gestured in consent, then left without a word.

The shamans swiftly tied Gunther up, also stuffing a specially made wooden stick in his mouth.

This was to prevent him from biting his tongue.

Gunther, in his dazed state, seemed to sense something. He opened his cloudy eyes, seeing the tools in the shaman’s hands.

“Uh-uh! No… Uh-uh!”

He twisted in great pain, his instinct telling him what fate awaited him. He tried to spit out the stick in his mouth but couldn’t.

“Hold him down! Hold him down!”

The shaman with the saw urgently directed his companions, and soon Gunther was immobilized.

Assoye stood outside the longhouse, silently looking up at the starry sky.

Soon, a long, mournful moan came from inside the house…

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