*Terrasin deVon Alimistraus*

Terrasin turned to Lucas, “Are you capable of riding with your injury?”

The Hero laughed, “I cannot ride a horse at all, healthy or not.”

The Knight Captain sneered, but Lady Versi kept him in line. This was an unfortunate turn, if Lucas could ride they would have sent him ahead with the cavalry. If he can’t then the only solution is to have him ride in the last remaining carriage, which was faster than walking, but far slower than by horseback. Terrasin was honestly starting to doubt whether or not this “Hero” would be able to help at all, though the thought was close to blasphemy.

Morale was a constant headache on the frontlines, humans could only face monsters for so long before their wills simply snapped. But with the news of the summoning time coming closer, morale had been steadily increasing and the soldiers had been markedly more effective. If the “Hero” was useless, morale would likely plunge below where it was before. Their greatest hope might end up destroying their spirits altogether.

“While it is not generally considered polite for a man to be in a ladies carriage,” Lord Moru was calm, despite this unpleasant discovery. “We do not particularly have a choice, so please ride with Ladies Almistraus and Versi, Lord Lucas.”

“I am not a Lord, but I suppose it beats walking.”

Terrasin felt that Lucas had calmed slightly, and was less rude than before. Having said that, the man was still unbelievably rude, to the point she considered that he was almost barbaric.

Pushing her thoughts aside, Terrasin told the Knight Captain to prepare the forces to leave and led Lucas to the carriage they had arrived in. While far more comfortable than the one that had made the escape from Uri, it lacked the armor and magical protections of the former. Honestly, Terrasin wondered why anyone would worry about anything besides protections from demons on this trip, but noble culture would not bend far enough to let a Princess of Almistis ride in anything less than decadence.

“A few questions for you, Lady Terrasin.” Lucas spoke calmly, and far more polite than Terrasin was expecting. Lord Moru had whispered when they were leaving the tent that the Hero had not used his title, clearly mocking it in fact. So it was even more of a surprise to hear him use her own.

“Please go ahead, Lord Lucas. If it is within my knowledge to answer, I will.”

“What are the survival rates for wounded soldiers on the battlefield? How are they treated?”

An odd question, but she supposed that he was worried about his own wound, which was understandable, if a little selfish.

“Once we reach Francinea, Lord Lucas, you will receive the best care available. Even should fever overtake you, we will provide you treatment equivalent to the royal families.”

He frowned at her response, “I am not worried about myself, if its only this much I can perform the treatments myself from this point on.” A knight opened the door to the carriage and they climbed in, waiting for Lady Versi to catch up. “Now if you would please answer the question.”

“Most court ladies would not know such information, as a daughter of the Four Families, I do have some idea.” The education of the Four Families was not biased by gender as much as the rest of the nobility. Each member had to be able to perform their duties no matter what their circumstances. “It varies greatly from battle to battle. In the few fights amongst humans, the winner generally losses five out of every hundred, and the loser maybe sixteen out of every hundred. But that is a merely an average, it can vary wildly.”

“Not much different than medieval Europe then…” The Hero muttered, “And against demons?”

“The war against demons is not made up of specific battles so much as it is a constant siege, so the casualties are not measured by battle but by year. And it varies greatly from country to country.”

Her own territory of Almistis, given the protection of the Amaranthine Line, had by far the least casualties. Often times less than ten per hundred per year. Ulian was slightly higher, maybe thirteen or fourteen per hundred, but with their paladins and mages they still held the line magnificently.

On the other hand, Francinea lost nearly forty out of every hundred soldiers. Where it not for the fact that the forces fighting there were backed by three other kingdoms, the sheer amount of deaths would have consumed the population already. As it was, being conscripted to serve on the Francinea line was considered a death sentence. In fact, Adelade sent criminals to the line with a promise that if they could survive for six years they would be freed. In the five hundred years that policy had been in place, only one person had ever been freed out of the thousands of criminals sent to fight.

The Hero listened to this carefully, “And the main cause of death?”

“Disease.” It was Lady Versi who answered as she climbed into the carriage, she must have caught the tail end of the conversation. “So long as a soldier does not receive a wound to their gut, our surgeons are capable of staunching the bleeding. But many survive only to develop a fever and die later. To be honest, we lose many of our soldiers to disease even before they enter combat.”

“I see.” The Hero was silent for a moment, “What about civilians, how many children survive past the age of five?”

“I am not sure,” Terrasin was confused and slightly uncomfortable with these questions, “Most do, I think. Maybe two in every three?”

“I see.” The hero leaned back, then hissed as he accidentally put pressure on his wound.

“Why are you asking questions like these?” Lady Versi asked curiously. Terrasin too, wanted to know how the Hero would answer.