As the saying went, "Pull one hair and the whole body will be affected". It was impossible that the Fist Temple did not know the traces of the steam army's large-scale mobilization.
The main force of the Iron Fist Army had been looking for a strategic battle with the steam army in the first place. Now, they did not hide their real strength anymore. Dozens of troops and hundreds of priests of the Fist God Temple approached the village where Gus was like a swarm of infuriated bees.
In the strategic area within a hundred square kilometers, the elites of the two parties were already engaged in a fierce battle, putting on a good show where the winner would be the winner.
More and more troops were still rushing over from all directions, filling up their murderous ranks.
They were like two monsters with dozens of heads, opening hundreds of bloody mouths and biting each other tightly. One side was already covered in wounds and dripping with blood, but the other side was still expanding and growing. Moreover, they were staring at each other without blinking, ready to give each other a fatal blow at any time.
A storm of blood had already been raised on the battle lines within a hundred square kilometers.
The village where Gus was, however, was like the center of the storm, maintaining the fragile peace.
Speaking of which, the battle between the two parties started because of him.
But in fact, he was like the fuse of an unprecedented explosion. It was only a matter of time before the explosion happened.
Therefore, after the main forces of the two parties collided brutally, the commanders of the two parties focused all their attention on the opponent and forgot about his existence.
The commander of the steam army in the south did not want the so-called 'saint' to gain more influence and affect his position, but he also did not want the 'saint' to be captured and killed by the enemy, which would be a devastating blow to the morale of the army.
The so-called 'saint' was a mascot that was kept in a relatively safe place in the rear. That was the best.
Therefore, in the next few days, although Gus's body had recovered, he was not able to go to the frontline where the battle was most intense. He did not even meet the leadership and commander of the steam army in the south.
What he saw most were the wounded soldiers sent from the frontline and the old, weak, women, and children who were responsible for taking care of the wounded soldiers.
The steam army regarded the village where he was as a battlefield hospital.
Of course, the Fist God's World had just developed into the embryonic phase of the steam age. The concept of "field hospital" was in fact very imperfect. There were not many effective treatments for the wounded who had broken bones or even bleeding. Apart from applying and bandaging the wounds with herbs that felt like placebo, they could only hope that the "saint" could bring miracles of recovery without medication.
Unfortunately, the so-called miracle was something that could not be replicated.
For several sleepless days and nights, Gus stayed beside the wounded who were bleeding so much that they did not even look human, clumsily praying and healing them.
However, the only thing he could do was to listen to the moans of the other party before they died getting weaker and weaker. Then, he could only watch helplessly as the corners of the injured people's mouths spat out faint blood bubbles one after another until the last one.
Even though their enemies were often unarmed, they still had to fight with their bare hands.
The soldiers of the Iron Fist Army who had received cruel training had bodies as tough as iron, and their fists were like battering rams and heavy cannons. When they waved their fists, they carried a force of thousands of kilograms. They were literally "dead when they were touched".
The significance of sending the wounded soldiers who were bombarded by such iron fists to the rear was not so much to treat them but to prevent them from dying miserably in the frontline in case the morale of the soldiers was ruined.
Although Gus did not save many wounded soldiers, nobody blamed him for not doing his best.
Everybody still believed in his identity as the "saint". It was even said that if one died under Gus' prayer, their soul would soar to the sky with the steam and go to the real heaven.
As a result, there were even more wounded soldiers who needed Gus' help. Many of the wounded who were so heavily wounded that they almost died couldn't wait to be killed by Gus' prayer.
There were also the old, weak, women, and children who took care of the wounded. There were no professional doctors or nurses in the field hospitals of the Fist God's World at all. Those who took care of the wounded were nothing more than civilians who had been affected by the war and had lost their homes.
Many of the children's parents were fanatics of the religion of steam. Chances were that they had been blown into mud by the enemy's iron fists during the fearless charge.
Such children all became Gus' loyal followers and worshipped him crazily. They followed Gus day and night like little tails that could not be shaken off.
Guss had also heard countless stories about the zealots of the Church of Machinery and Steam from the dying wounded and the fervent admirers.
In fact, there was nothing unusual about it.
It was nothing more than how the Fist God's Temple imposed tyrannical taxes on the people and cracked down on the inventions related to machinery and steam. In the end, the government forced the people to rebel.
However, the stories that had happened countless times and would happen countless times in the future, when they were told by the mouths that were spurting blood, spurted out of the innocent eyes, and written down by the twisted, shivering hands, brought Gus a particularly intense shock.
This was a deformed world.
Guss had never realized this so deeply before he watched hundreds and thousands of people die miserably in front of him in a horrifying state of being riddled with holes and mangled flesh.
Even if the steam army did win the so-called 'strategic battle', it did not mean that the Iron Fist Army would be annihilated and the reign of the Fist God's Temple would completely collapse.
The steam army could only consolidate the rule of the south at best. Then, the Fist God's World would enter a state of confrontation between the north and the south.
In the next hundred years or even a thousand years, the fierce battles where countless corpses and blood were everywhere would still go on, turning this world into a hell of death.
Even though the Church of Machines and Steam had completely defeated the Fist Godly Palace and brought the whole world into the age of steam, Gus already knew that the steam civilization was still not the highest form of civilization. One day, a new power would rise up again and sweep the power of steam into the garbage heap of history in a destructive manner.
In the process, how many innocent people would be killed miserably?
Gus did not know.
He was very conflicted.
Holding the hands of the wounded soldiers that were gradually cooling, many of them were not much older than him. Their young faces looked particularly pale in contrast to the red blood. Listening to them murmuring the names of their parents and the girls they loved, Gus really could not help but regard them as living, flesh-and-blood people.
However, Gus could not accept the fact that the Fist God's World was mired in a bloody war that would last a hundred years or even a thousand years and that the living people who were as flesh-and-blood as him would become meaningless casualty figures in a hell of death.
What if there is truly a perfect heaven where everybody can be relocated to and live a carefree life where they forget everything? Wouldn't it be great?
In the dead of night, when he was taking a nap in the corner of his bed tiredly, the creepy thought would pop up in his head uncontrollably.
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