Tascam’s Point had a landmass with a tooth-like peak paired with an obsidian rock that curves like a 'C'. Next to the jagged peak was the basalt wall forming a sturdy wall around the island. There was a naturally hardened magma on the docks they used, and a narrow gateway that leads to the Dread Line.

There was a fortified fort on the Tascam Point made of Granite and Marble. An artillery line was fixed on top of the walls facing the Dread Line. While the back of Tascam’s Point was without walls.

Sunlight pokes out of the dark clouds, striking the whole of Tascam’s Point. Their Proud Banner was on top of the Fortified Fort. Large and unyielding, billowing against the winds coming from the Dread Line.

The Grand Fleet had arrived on Tascam's point. With most of the fleet marooned near the docks of the island.

A passenger boat made for the island. Carrying the banner of the Company, the Admiral was the first one to be welcome to the Island. Next was the convoy of Merchants, followed by the Ark.

Two hours after the arrival of the Grand Fleet of the Reconnoiter Company. A boat came to the Galleon, asking for every Doctor, Surgeon, and trained Medics to come to the island.

Every Battalion at least has one trained medic to patch his brothers on the battlefield. The weather was cold and dingy, the drab surrounded the boats as medics boarded the boats. Of course, there couldn’t be only one or two trained in the arts of medicine.

The boat arrived on the Tascam’s Point. It was a strange town with square blocks of houses, and natural asphalt roads. Everyone was then herded to the open field where the men and women of Tascam’s Point gathered. Plate-wearing soldiers with gashes on their chest or back sat on the road.

There was a smell of ichor and bile mixed in the salty wind. A sickly scent that could only come from someone’s stomach. Moans sounded everywhere, accompanied by the occasional sobbing, and the screaming. The clouds shaded the light, leaving everyone on the dim shade. The wind howled on the side that did not face the Dread Line Sea.

“We should start working, Gabrio,” a voice called.

Gabrio nodded, following her to one of the patients. Wiles was behind Gabrio. Alongside them was Millie who looked around with visible terror in her eyes.

At the very maw of the world. The ring of fire composed of boiling mountains exploding caused large fumes of smoke. And terrible large waves crashing into the bays of Aon. The Chroniclers and Historians seemed to agree on that point. It was hard to disagree when everyone saw what happened centuries ago. That was hundreds of years ago. They still tell the tale even to this day to children, speaking of the maw, and the Fort that stood against it. Thus it would have been odd if Millie did not fear.

“Look, I know that this is a dreary place, but can you get a move on? I am not doing this all by myself. Wiles, Millie, come and make them lined up. One at a time, and make sure they don’t dare to complain! And for Mercy’s sake, Gabrio, stop daydreaming!”

Gabrio decided to move before she starts pulling him. He took out his medicine kit. And started examining a soldier. From shoulder to the waist, the same wound. The thing about poison was not about the depth of the wound, but how large the wound was. It was the amount of that has was absorb, and how long has this man had been poison. No one was around to tell him that. He was about to start when he noticed that the man had stopped breathing. He placed his ear near his mouth and listened. He heard no breathing, and his pulse was gone.

“He’s dead,” a cold voice said.

Gabrio nodded. He closed the patient's eyes, turned his attention to the next man laid on a winding sheet. Gabrio checked his condition. He was feverish, and the wound seemed to have reached him on his left shoulder. He was not as worse as the other guy. He lifted the back of the man's head. He took a bottle of nitre spirits, cold water, and then the antidote passed around by the Merchants.

He had not seen this concoction of antidote, and it seemed to new with how spotless the cork was. The patient drank the medicine and his breathing calmed. He had stopped muttering like a dying man. He continued administering the antidote. Stitching up wounds, and closing the eyes of who are far too gone.

As time passed, he had administered twenty-five soldiers with the antidotes. Stitched up ten soldiers, and helped Zyra do on-the-spot surgery for two hours. Millie acted as their assistant, while he helped Zyra perform her operation. Some people were not accustomed to trusting female surgeons here. A lot of them have refused Zyra, thinking that they would rather trust their fate in the hands of male surgeons. Gabrio had to pretend he was the surgeon to allow them to operate them.

Zyra didn’t argue, she didn’t refute, and went around looking for anyone that needed help. Her face stayed cold, sharp, and dispassionate. Gabrio had not uttered a comment about their treatment. He clapped her on the back and started to any patients that needed treatment with her.

Corpses strewed the streets of this island. Some of them had their waist separated from their body. Gabrio saw housewives and elderly men picking up bodies, placing them on wagons. Their eyes were glazed, and they did so as if picking up a loose rock on the side of the road. Corpse-bearers were picking up the bodies. Placing them side by side, away from the square blockhouses of the island. Wiles followed while keeping his rifle on his hands. Millie had vomited thrice and had been shaking. Gabrio had her drink four mouthfuls of burnt wine. Not enough to make her drunk, but enough to numb her to what she had been seeing.

After a time, night came to this island. The dreary, dull, and dim streets were lit only by the lamps. This had made stitching up wounds harder for Gabrio. His arms were heavy and his gloved fingertips grease with sweat. Not to mention that he had been drinking a bottle of burnt wine and had passed it on Zyra. They needed the wine to be awake and working.

They took turns in drinking the same bottle. Wiles watch their backs. While Millie stared at the direction of the mainland where the fleet came from.

“Here,” Zyra passed the bottle back.

Gabrio took a mouthful of burnt wine and sighed. “We should be helping.”

“No,” Zyra said. “Rest is rest, Gabrio. Or do you want to finish one patient off?”

Gabrio shrugged. “Looks like they were attacked.”

“It seemed so.”

“Dread-Kins?”

She nodded. “I had heard they launch raids all the time. I don’t think that this is the worst thing that happened to them. You saw those corpse-bearers right?”

“I did. Looks like this is nothing new to them.”

“How do you think they survived?”

“Who knows? Have you seen the group that recently came out?”

He turned to the side where a group of basket carriers was. They were carrying loaves of bread, distributing the rations around the island. He had not seen farms around the island. Only the square blockhouses, the basalt wall, and the tooth-like rock near the fortified fort.

“Heard that there might be a city underground. A natural biome that had formed inside of the cavern. Most of the citizens must have been placed there, and they seemed to work in shifts.”

Most of the soldiers that Gabrio had seen were weary. The new group that replaced them carried shields and rifles designed to act as a spear in close combat. They also carried a war pick around their waist. On this island, they will wear full plate armor. While the rest wore chest armor over their surcoat.

Gabrio could see a group wearing full-plate armor, sauntering around with their rifles. There was a group of people who carried the wounded inside the square-block buildings.

Not far from where they were sitting. On the sea, Gabrio saw fleet became spots of light. Their home Galleon, the Milostiv, floated among the Grand-Galleons.

Surrounding the Ark that was being guarded by soldiers of the Penny Guards. Boats rowed back and forth from the merchant's ships, carrying supplies to the land. From what he could tell. These Merchants Ships were not part of the Voyage. They were only here to deliver the cargo they have intended to carry to the island. They went with the grand fleet to avoid pirates.

Back to the ground where injured gathered. The patients still numbered by hundreds. Gabrio took another mouthful of the burnt wine, passed it to Zyra. Patting his behind, and cracking his neck. Gabrio went to the side, checked his medicine kit, and made sure that the kit was clean. Zyra put aside the burnt wine, walked to the area where the patients are and started treating. He carried himself to another direction and started assessing the wounded.

Time passed, and he went to a boy under Zyra’s care. Gabrio helped her saw the boy’s necrotic leg and stitched up the wounds on his side. Gabrio held the lamp close to his chest while Zyra pulled the scale-like shards embedded on the boy's ribs. With her eyes on the boy all the time, Gabrio pulled her face mask down for a second. Letting her breathe, he then offered her a mouthful of burnt wine. She receives it with her mouth. She gulped, squinted her eyes, and cut the necrotic parts of the boy. Squeezing a sponge soaked with opium near the boy’s lips. Zyra leaned on the table she was operating.

Millie was on the side, carrying the tray of surgical tools. Zyra had her memorized each tool aboard the ship. She’s doing fine, handing the surgical knives to Zyra. The surgery took them three hours. Zyra had done her best, the boy was far too gone, and he could at least live for a day or two before succumbing to his wounds. It would be a miracle for the boy to live. The punctures on his internal organs were too much. Not to mention that the poison causes the patient’s wounds to become necrotic. Zyra had disposed of her gloves and Gabrio had disposed of his with it as well. It was a potent poison that if envenomed to a person’s wounds, would cause necrosis. They couldn't risk their skin being touch by that poison.

Gabrio had administered a shot of opiate to the boy. He then left the boy alone and had them ready a shroud for the boy. There was a bucket offered to them by one of the people of the island. He gathered that the bucket of water. Then used it mopped his face. He had the person who delivered the bucket to bring another. Gabrio started cleaning his tools by using sulfur, arsenic, and steam. He followed the method that Accad had discovered.

By the time they had done with their tasks. Morning came to Tascam’s Point.

“Is this all the wounded?” Gabrio asked Zyra. Her robes covered in blood.

“It looks like that's most of them. We only have so few nurses and assistants. Not even the Lady helped here. Where is she anyway? A healing spell would have been a great help.”

“One of them said that the other boats didn’t deploy their medics. The Lady wouldn't take a step in this land. Not when she had to protect the Galleons.”

“Not a surprise. This is the Maw of the World, a Dread Line Sea Creature might jump us or another raid might happen while we treat them. We can't afford to lose any medics here.”

“True,” she loosens her right hand and wiped the sweat on her brows. “We’ll be leaving after they decided that we can finally enter the Dread Line. We had to pay the toll.”

“It’s going to happen soon. The Dread Line, the Empty Sea, and the Sea of Reeds. Do you think we’ll reach the Icean Spine?”

She shrugged. Gabrio has no answer to that. Instead, he stood still and watched the wounded limped back to their homes. His body felt like it was stuff with rocks.