After several rounds of systematic promotions, the Life Force of these Barbarians had become almost supernatural, especially with the help of a max-level "Medical Treatment" skill.
Despite injuries that would have been fatal to an ordinary person, they still had the strength to lie there and speak their minds.
But the immediate priority was to stitch up the wounds; otherwise, even their immense Life Force would drain away over time.
But now he was in a bind. In a desolate place like this, forget finding a medic who could stitch wounds—it would be difficult to even find a tailor.
He knew what needed to be done but had never put it into practice. Just as he was about to give it a shot as a last resort, Sam raised his hand in the distance, volunteering.
"Lord, do the wounds need stitching? I think I can give it a try."
