"Horace." Maximus looked at the plain-faced Roman veteran and reminded him in a deep voice, "I’ve assigned you five subordinates, not to have them follow you around to rescue the wounded, but to assist you in managing the entire tribe’s medical affairs, overseeing all the doctors and nurses within the tribe.
If war breaks out, they will help you temporarily summon all the doctors and nurses from the tribe to rescue the wounded. You and your subordinates only need to supervise them and allocate personnel efficiently.
If multiple battles occur simultaneously, you can also personally appoint a doctor to serve as the temporary head of a medical camp for the aftermath of a specific battle... This is the role your Medical Department should play. Do you understand?"
"Oh..." Horace suddenly realized, but his face immediately clouded with concern. "But if that’s the case, won’t some people slack off and neglect to treat the patients?"
Maximus confidently replied, "They will do their best because the Twenty Peerage System will make them take their work seriously. Perform well, and they’ll rise in rank; perform poorly, and they’ll be demoted. Their performance will be recorded by you and your subordinates—that’s also one of the tasks of the Medical Department."
Horace’s eyes widened in surprise. "The Twenty Peerage System has demotions as well?"
Maximus asked with equal surprise, "Have I not mentioned this before?"
"You haven’t." Horace answered with certainty.
"That was my oversight!" Maximus smacked his forehead and explained, "Perform well, and you’ll be promoted. Perform poorly, or worse, break the decrees, and you’ll certainly be demoted. There’s no such thing as promotion without demotion in this world, right, Horace?"
"Right." Horace, who always acted diligently, agreed with this principle.
"I’ll make a note to include this demotion aspect when we discuss the Twenty Peerage System in the Political Affairs Hall." Maximus spoke with full sincerity. In truth, he hadn’t forgotten to mention it before—he had intentionally avoided it at the time, as he needed to rally everyone’s support for his restructuring of the rebel army and found it more effective to share the favorable aspects first.
"By the way, didn’t you say you were short-staffed? I’ve brought you a new subordinate—another Medical Officer I’ve just appointed."
Maximus pretended not to notice Horace’s briefly stiff expression and pointed to Emmerich, who stood nearby, introducing him. "This is Emmerich, a learned scholar among the Skodisqi people. He is well-versed in herbal medicine and has saved countless lives, earning the deep respect of the Skodisqi people. I’ve also appointed him as a consultant to the Political Affairs Hall. He’ll help us better understand the surrounding forces and establish a stronger foothold here!"
After hearing this, Horace understood he had no chance of dissuading Maximus from this appointment, but he still felt a thorn in his heart and didn’t immediately greet his new subordinate.
Instead, Emmerich bent low in a bow and spoke in awkward Latin, "Hello, I’m very pleased to work with you!"
Maximus felt impressed. Are all Druids so erudite? Or is this old man a linguistic prodigy?
Horace solemnly replied, "You’re skilled in treating illnesses with herbal remedies. We lack familiarity with the local flora here, so we indeed need to learn from you to improve our methods. Therefore, I welcome you to join us.
However, I cannot allow you to enter the Medical Camp right now, as you have not cleansed yourself. Your hair and clothes are covered in dust and may harbor lice or fleas, which could potentially harm the healing process of our injured."
"Oh, that’s my fault. I forgot to remind you of the Medical Camp’s hygiene rules before coming," Maximus quickly interjected for fear of Emmerich harboring discontent and briefly reiterated the explanation he had once shared with Horace about tiny insects infecting wounds.
Finally, he emphasized, "Since adopting these practices, we’ve seen a significant reduction in infections and fevers among the wounded."
Emmerich listened thoughtfully and then seriously remarked, "Nature’s divine mysteries... Just as there are trees as mighty as mountains, there are also insects smaller than a strand of hair. Just because we cannot see them does not mean they don’t exist.
Like maggots thrive in rotting flesh, these tiny creatures view the human body as a paradise. Their joy, however, comes at the cost of our suffering... Respected leader, thank you for enlightening me—I’ve learned something new!"
Emmerich bowed deeply once again and then suddenly realized, "Ah, no wonder you all favor short hair and clean-shaven faces—it must be to minimize the presence of these insects. I will go cleanse myself immediately and then return."
With that, he turned and headed toward the river.
Maximus and Horace exchanged glances.
Horace couldn’t help but ask, "Leader, did he truly understand?"
His skepticism was understandable; after all, even now, he struggled to fully accept Maximus’s insect-caused disease theory. Nevertheless, he adhered to the sanitation measures because they indeed proved effective.
"Not only did he understand, but he grasped it quite deeply." Maximus stroked the faint stubble on his chin. In truth, their preference for short hair and clean-shaven faces was simply a habit influenced by the Italians, but Emmerich’s interpretation was not wrong either.
Emmerich really is a remarkable Druid; we can’t afford to lose him!... Snapping back to reality, Maximus instructed, "Akegu, go keep an eye on him. Don’t let him wander recklessly around the village and risk getting injured by our soldiers."
"Yes." Akegu understood and hurried after him.
"Horace," Maximus then said earnestly, "You don’t have to worry about Ikechiu. I’ve always taken note of his contributions. I have other plans for him—ones no less significant than a Medical Officer’s role."
Horace finally felt reassured and gratefully said, "Thank you, Leader!"
Maximus smiled faintly and surveyed his surroundings. "Where are our wounded warriors staying?"
"Over there." Horace pointed to two larger houses nearby and personally led the way.
As he had done many times before, Maximus visited each wounded soldier of the rebel army one by one. He inquired about their injuries, praised their bravery, and thanked them for their contributions... Whenever he accurately called out their names and discussed details from their past, it always moved them deeply.
Of course, it was impossible for him to remember every single one of the thousands of soldiers under his command. His young attendants, who had been following him for over a year, meticulously gathered information about each injured soldier beforehand and quietly relayed it to him.
Although this approach was exhausting, Maximus had persevered and grown accustomed to it because he understood that while prestige could be earned on the battlefield, devotion was often built in the ordinary moments. His power ultimately depended on these ordinary soldiers.
After finishing his visits to his own soldiers, he decided to check on the wounded from Segestica. This, however, was not to show care but to put on a performance.
To this end, he avoided going to the residences of the critically injured Segestica warriors, as they were either unlikely to survive or unconscious—wasting his efforts on them was unnecessary.
Each room housing lightly injured Segestica warriors had guards stationed at the door to prevent doctors or nurses from being harmed during treatment. So far, a few attacks had been thwarted just in time, but most of the wounded soldiers had behaved relatively peacefully.
When Maximus entered, he found these Segestica soldiers mostly filled with confusion.
On the one hand, they had been defeated and conquered by the rebel army, so they should harbor hatred. On the other hand, they had been injured and left for dead on the battlefield, expecting to become food for the beasts, as that’s how they themselves had treated enemies in the past. Yet they were instead brought back to the village by the rebel army and given treatment. The care, especially from the women—gentle and attentive though their words were incomprehensible—radiated a kindness that the wounded could not ignore. This left their emotions in a conflicted turmoil.