I, the Villain, Want to Save Myself, But the Yandere Heroines Disagree - Chapter 93

The orcs resided in the eastern desert, a harsh environment where they survived primarily through hunting, organized in tribal communities.

Compared to humans, orcs matured much faster, often reaching adulthood within eight or nine years.

Their prime years lasted for fifty years. After that, unless they were shamans or healers, orcs would age rapidly and be abandoned by their tribes as worthless, left to die in the desert.

In human armies, at most, you might see father-and-son soldiers fighting together, with no more than three generations—grandfather, father, and grandson—serving in the military at the same time.

In orc armies, it was common for three generations to serve together, and there were even cases where five generations of a family served in the military simultaneously.

Moreover, due to their genetics, most orcs developed muscular physiques upon reaching adulthood. Even without training, they typically possessed the strength of a Tier 1 or Tier 2 human.

Of course, there were naturally weaker orcs who didn’t participate in combat. Instead, they handled menial labor within the tribe. Some tribes even threw their weaker offspring off cliffs, deeming them unfit to become warriors.

In orc societies, the hierarchy can generally be divided into chieftains, shamans/healers/sub-chiefs, warriors, women, children, and laborers.

Most orc tribes consisted of a few thousand members. Larger tribes with tens of thousands of members were rare, as many of these were annihilated during the orc alliance’s war against the Empire eighteen years ago. These tribes were exterminated as warnings to others.

The Empire had refrained from conducting deeper military campaigns into the desert to completely eradicate the orcs due to the harsh environment, which was uninhabitable for anyone but orcs and drought-resistant creatures.

In one campaign, the Empire had sent 50,000 troops into the desert, but less than half returned. Most deaths were attributed to diseases caused by the extreme conditions rather than combat.

As a result, the Empire’s large-scale campaigns against the orcs often yielded limited results. Many tribes would retreat deeper into the desert, biding their time for generations before resurfacing.

—

Elsewhere, in a small town within the Duchy of Antica, a one-armed man stumbled into a clinic.

On the continent, not everyone had access to healing from priests. Hence, facilities like clinics and professions like doctors emerged.

“Doctor! Doctor!” the masked man shouted.

To avoid suspicion, he had removed his mask, revealing a rugged, bearded face.

“Coming, coming.” A young doctor in a white coat and glasses emerged. Seeing the man’s condition, he froze momentarily before speaking. “Oh dear, sir, what happened to you…?”

“I was being chased by enemies in another city and had no choice but to lose an arm to escape here,” the masked man said, pulling out his wallet and handing the doctor two gold coins.

“Doctor, take a look at my arm and patch me up.”

“This… this won’t do.” The doctor approached, examining the stump of the man’s arm. “You must have walked through a forest to get here. The wound is infected.”

“I can’t treat this. The wound is already rotting. You’ll need to find someone else.”

Shaking his head, the doctor tried to return the coins.

The masked man’s patience snapped. Drawing his dagger, he held it to the doctor’s throat.

“I’ll ask you one more time. Can you treat me?”

Sweat dripped down the doctor’s forehead. Seeing no other option, he nodded.

“I can. But I’ll need to do more than just bandage it. If the infection spreads, no potion in the world will save you.”

“Fine. Tell me what needs to be done.”

“I’ll use an anesthetic potion to numb your senses. Once you’re unconscious, I’ll clean out the infected tissue, sterilize the wound, and bandage it properly. But as for your missing arm, I can’t help with that. You’ll need a prosthetic or a restoration spell for that.”

“No problem.” Hearing this, the masked man felt relieved. “Just clean the wound for now.”

“Alright, lie down on the table back there.” The doctor said this while adjusting his glasses.

“Alright.” The masked man said this as he lay down on the hospital bed.

However, when he saw the doctor close the clinic door, his body tensed.

“Why are you closing the door?” the masked man said.

“Sir, I’m about to perform surgery on you—cleaning out the infected tissue, disinfecting, and bandaging the wound. The process can get quite bloody, and obviously, it’s not something outsiders should witness. Besides, I assume you want to keep your identity confidential, right?”

“!” Upon hearing this, the masked man immediately became alert, gripping his dagger tightly.

“Ah, no need to panic, no need to panic.” Seeing his reaction, the doctor chuckled and tried to calm the masked man. “I regularly deal with illegal residents here; you’re just one of them.”

“After all, those involved in shady business wouldn’t dare to go to a church, and you know how expensive the potions from alchemy workshops are. So for simpler treatments, they usually come to me for help.”

“Have you done similar surgeries before?”

“Of course, plenty!” The doctor said, pausing to think before continuing, “For example, I once performed sterilization on Mrs. Sunny’s dog, and I also helped Mr. Stefan’s goose by pulling something out of its intestines…”

“So you’re a vet?!” the masked man exclaimed, preparing to get up and leave.

“Ah, I was just joking, just joking.” The doctor quickly pressed the masked man back down. “Didn’t I just tell you? I’ve handled plenty of injuries for people living outside the law.”

“The things I mentioned earlier are just part of my honest, everyday work to make a living.”

“I’ve done amputations, removed embedded blades, and other such procedures. Everyone has given me glowing reviews!”

“Fine.” Only then did the masked man relax.

The doctor then brought out a bottle of potion and handed it to the masked man.

“Alright, this is the anesthetic potion. Drink it all; otherwise, I’m afraid you won’t be able to handle the pain later.”

“Alright.” The masked man nodded and drank the potion.

“By the way, I’ve lived this long and visited many clinics. Why have I never seen anesthetic potions like this before?”

“Oh, this potion is something I only recently obtained,” the doctor said, donning a mask and gloves while taking out a scalpel. “It’s made by someone… let’s just say, a prodigy in alchemy. He gave it to me and asked me to test its effects on others.”

“So, you haven’t tested this potion on anyone before?”

“Of course not. In a small place like this, I rarely encounter anyone who needs such a potion. You’re lucky—one of the first to experience its effects.”

“…” The masked man was speechless. So he was nothing more than a guinea pig?