Hearing Luka advise him to become a medical soldier, Floyd gave him an exhausted smile as he shook his head.
"I'm fine with my current position. I am not interested in pursuing the medical field."
"That's a shame, that is one good medical soldier gone, and another powerful soldier gained. Still, you have a bright future ahead of you, and as long as you don't die here, I believe you can become a Bloodmaster one day." Luka gave Floyd his signature calming smile and a pat on the shoulder to give him some encouragement before walking away to help another soldier.
Watching Luka walk away, Floyd silently sighed as he felt that it was surreal to see someone close to his age already used to the war. He didn't even flinch when he saw a soldier nearly cut in half and blood gushing from his life-ending injury.
All he did was patch him up and pass the soldier to the special medical team that seemed so skilled that they could drag anyone from death's fingers. As long as those soldiers weren't dead by the time they reached the special medical team, they usually would be able to survive.
Floyd firmly believed that they would have long lost this war if it wasn't for this special medical team. The value of drastically reducing the number of soldiers dying and allowing hundreds of soldiers to continue fighting was immeasurable.
He even wanted to get to know one of the special medical soldiers to figure out how they did it and ask if he could learn some of their skills. Unfortunately, it seemed that regular soldiers were not allowed to talk with these special medical soldiers unless they were approached first.
What Floyd found the most strange was that the special medical soldiers all wore white masks that had a thick smell of herbs and medicine. Their uniform was also unique as they were as white as snow and remained clean even as they rummaged through the mud and blood to help heal soldiers.
Though there was a thick mist of mystery for the special medical team, Floyd didn't bother to try and unmask their mysteries as he only wanted to appreciate the help. He also didn't want to gain the ire of the army simply because he was curious about something.
"If I become an official, I might be able to figure out why the special medical teams are so special. So there is no need to risk my life and future for them." Floyd thought to himself as he patched up the unconscious soldier and picked him up to place him in one of the numerous resting tents.
"Hey, you need to rest your body. If you don't rest, you're going to die."
"Get off of me! I am so close to breaking through!"
"Luka?" Hearing Luka's distressed voice, Floyd's heart skipped a beat as he raced out of the tent to check out what was happening.
When he made it outside, he saw Luka trying to suppress a soldier whose body was covered with scars. Some of the scars were recent and still looked freshly healed, while the others were old and obviously were scars he obtained from past battles.
Yet even though the soldier was still healing from getting injured by the plants and even had some of his skin turning black due to poison, his strength was too much for a medical soldier like Luka. Soon Luka couldn't hold down the scarred soldier any longer and was pushed to the ground.
Now free, the scarred soldier began to punch his bleeding chest heavily as if he was trying to emulate Whaly in his breakthrough. With each one of his punches to his chest, a clear sound of cracking bones was heard, but in the soldier's insanity, he didn't care or seem to notice.
"Someone stop him. He has gone insane! If he continues to try and forcefully breakthrough, he is going to collapse his lungs and shred his heart!"
Knowing that he and the rest of the medical soldiers couldn't stop the scarred soldier by themselves, Luka yelled out for one of the other soldiers for assistance. Unfortunately, even though they were surrounded by soldiers, most of the ones nearby to help were injured in their own right. They could barely keep themselves alive, much less stop another soldier.
While the soldiers that did possess the strength to continue fighting were all busy still fighting or throwing firebombs, which prevented them from leaving to help. Seeing that the soldier was only a few more punches away from death, Floyd gritted his teeth and ran toward the crazy, scarred man.
Once he got close enough, Floyd drew out his sword and stabbed at the scarred man, hoping to snap him out of his insanity. Luckily, his crazy plan worked as the scarred soldier's dazed eyes suddenly cleared up, as he stopped himself from continuing to pound his chest.
Instead, he changed the course of one of his punches to punch Floyd in the face. Unable to react to the fast instinctual attack from a soldier, Floyd wasn't able to dodge and took the full brunt of the attack, causing him to fall on his back.
"Who the hell do you think you are to stop me from achieving my dream!? I'm going to kick your-"
Even though the scarred soldier snapped out of his delusion, the anger he felt from getting attacked didn't allow him to realize the level of danger he was in. Fortunately for Floyd, before he was about to get beat up by the scarred soldier, the large amount of blood loss did the man in as he fainted mid-sentence.
"God damn, that hurts." With his life no longer in danger, Floyd could feel an aching pain coming from his nose.
Afraid that it might have been broken, he hurriedly touched it with his hand and felt his bones were intact, and there wasn't any blood. Breathing out a sigh of relief that his face wasn't disfigured due to his recklessness, Floyd stood up and saw that Luka was examining the scarred man with a grim face.
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