Disinfection

"Listen carefully. Wash your wounds with alcohol, then bind them up with clean cloth strips. Do not ever use your smelly and dirty clothes as a bandage for your wounds!"

"If you don't have clean cloth strips, go to Solya. She'll help you," Alan instructed as he pointed to the maid behind him.

"Your Highness, will this really work?" Someone questioned.

"I wonder, too, Your Highness. Isn't it better to just let us enjoy the wine? I promise we will be alive and kicking again tomorrow!" Another one boasted.

"You only have one life. Trust me, this was what an alchemist back in the palace told me when he was drunk. I tried it once myself and found that it was effective on wounds."

Alan had no choice but to make up an explanation. After all, he couldn't start explaining the technicalities of how alcohol killed viruses to these brutes, could he? Even if he were to do that, no one would believe him.

Sure enough, after hearing that this method originated from an alchemist in the royal palace, all the guards, who were dismissive about Alan's claims at the beginning, began to take him more seriously.

"Do as His Highness say." Gossen, who had been silent all the time, finally cut in. He had earned the respect from the crowd after the battle just now – the kind of respect people naturally had for the powerful and the strong.

With Gossen's words, the others dared not object any further. They queued up obediently to take turns receiving their portion of the wine which they used to clean their wounds despite the pity they felt from wasting it.

In order to prevent them from secretly drinking the wine, Alan even checked their wounds one by one.

Because of the wounded men, the team marched ahead at a slower speed and weren't able to reach Blackstone City within three days. However, the good news was that they didn't encounter any enemies over these three days.

Perhaps because Alan's method really worked, no one in the troop died during these three days. The five seriously injured men even regained enough energy to groan loudly in the carriage. Some of them who recovered more quickly noticed that their wounds had begun to scab and they even occasionally had the mood to flirt with the maids looking after them.

None of the wounds of the slightly injured men were infected or inflamed despite the slightly sultry weather. Even Derya, who had been muttering on about what a waste it was to use the wine to clean the wounds, had completely shut up about it.

Clearly, everyone's attitude towards Alan had gone up a notch over these few days. In the past, they had looked upon Alan with disdain and contempt. Now, they all respected Alan almost as much as they did Gossen.

Given that there were no casualties, they all believed that Alan had brought them back to life. This was something that they could hardly imagine in the past.

Most importantly, Alan had been marching alongside the knights on his horse over the past few days. Although his two legs were burning due to the friction from constantly rubbing against the body of the horse and he could hardly stand up steadily, he persisted on without any complaints. His originally pale face had become sunburnt, making him seem like a completely different person compared to the spoiled, bad-tempered prince that he was before.

Blackstone was more like a town than a city - a shabby town, at that.

At the sight of Blackstone City, the corners of Alan's mouth twitched. The mud wall before him, constructed from crushed stone and soil, didn't look like the city wall at all given that it was so low. Some parts of the wall were damaged, and its height hardly reached 10 feet tall even at its highest (the standard for the city walls was 20 feet high).

The city looked small. Behind the city lay a lush forest which was vast beyond imagination, while an endless wasteland stood right opposite the city gate. A gushing river flowed from the forest in the north of the city into the wasteland and meandered away to nowhere.

By the time they approached the city, Alan was rendered completely speechless. There wasn't even a guard standing at the gates. In other words, the city was totally defenseless.

In fact, Blackstone City was less than two hundred miles away from the nearest Long Wind Fort!

Alan reckoned that even a group of gnomes armed with just stones and sticks could seize this city easily , let alone the orcs!

Meanwhile, disappointment began filling the hearts of the other members of the troop. Although they had mentally prepared themselves for it, disappointment still overwhelmed them. After all, the first prince and the second prince were both sent to famous and wealthy cities. In their opinion, although the emperor did not favor Alan, he should have at least sent him to an ordinary city. They did not expect it to be such a shabby little town.

Gossen was the only one who remained calm and composed, and even began looking around warily.

Some poor civilians in ragged clothes noticed Alan and his men, and they immediately dispersed and disappeared without a trace.

Fortunately, Bruce caught two men who were peeking at them while hiding behind a dirt wall.

"Hey, you two. Do you know how to get to the Blackstone Castle?" Alan stood on the carriage and looked at the two guys they just caught.

They were dressed like hunters and had clothes made of animal fur draped around their bodies. One of them was carrying a simple longbow on the back. Both looked slightly nervous.

Naturally, they did not know what the flag on Alan's carriage represented, but it didn't mean that they were blind. The fully armored guards, the gorgeous carriage in the middle of the troop, and the mighty looking warrior standing next to the carriage who looked like one not to be trifled with – All these indicated that they were someone important that they could not afford to offend.

"Go through the gates and head straight. You'll see it right up ahead," the slightly taller hunter answered.

Alan frowned slightly while waving his hand to ask the two guards to free them.

As far as he knew, Blackstone City was originally the fief of a nobleman named Gert. Logically speaking, Gert should have received the news of his arrival a long time ago after Roman III's appointment command was issued. Now that Alan had arrived at the city gates, why wasn't he there to welcome them?

Alan didn't believe that Gert, as the local leader, would be clueless about their arrival.

A humble nobleman at the borders would never dare to neglect an imperial prince, even if Alan was not favored by his father.

"Let's head in!" Alan nodded to Gossen.

As they entered the city, the originally noisy and bustling little town instantly quietened down.

"Hey, which mercenary troop is this? I've never seen this flag before. Is it newly established?"

"Look, there are women in the carriage. Praise the goddess! Such beautiful women actually exist in this world!"

"Ruger, are you drooling? You better watch out; your fat women back home might just make you sleep in the pigsty tonight!"

"Are they nobles? I have never seen such a gallant knight in my life."

"I'm sure they are, and they must be from a big city. Just look at that carriage, geez! Even Gert that fatty doesn't have a carriage like that!"

"I heard that fatty Gert ran away and even looted the Blackstone Castle of everything inside!"

"So be it. If I weren't a wanted convict in hiding, I myself wouldn't want to stay in this godforsaken place!"

...

Curious citizens poked their heads out of their houses to catch a glimpse of the strange troop as they whispered amongst themselves.