Frostpunk Divine Throne-Chapter 29: Gunshot Wound

Cyren's expression stiffened, "Meaning like a cesarean section, cut open my belly to find the bullet?"
Dr. Rhea wanted to deny this, because cesarean section was an extremely controversial and dangerous surgery that had only recently emerged. The maternal mortality rate was above 80%. Generally doing it meant choosing to save the child and kill the mother. This inhumane method once caused enormous social opposition.
But thinking that the mortality rate for exploratory laparotomy to retrieve bullets was also around 80% or more, Rhea didn't know how to argue.
"...Matters of surgery, how can they be called cesarean sections..." He said feebly, but Cyren had already understood his meaning.
He looked at Dr. Rhea's deep brown long apron, wearing his own gray shirt underneath, and suddenly asked, "You don't wear a white coat?"
"What white coat?" Rhea was stunned.
"Uh... the doctor's uniform. Is what you're wearing now work clothes?"
"Yes sir, because dark colors can very well conceal bloodstains and dirt."
Cyren looked at that dirty deep brown apron. Who knew how much dried blood was stuck on it. He couldn't help shivering, "No... what about patients? Won't they get infected?"
"Lord Bishop, these two have no relation." Rhea said, "Infection is caused by miasma, but the hospital's airflow circulation is very good. You need not worry."
"..." Cyren was silent for a moment, "So you don't disinfect or wash hands before surgery?"
"Sir, this is inconsequential. We need more time to treat more people. We have no time to clean ourselves. We're neither nobles nor kings. We're not that particular." Rhea's temper flared up.
"My meaning is—" Cyren tried to explain clearly, "Has no one currently proposed the theory that 'infection is caused by some kind of invisible tiny organisms'?"
"You mean germ theory?!"
Cyren nodded expectantly.
"Heavenly Father above! You, as a bishop, actually believe that heretical theory!!" Dr. Rhea burst out in sharp explosive sound.
Cyren didn't answer, but Rhea was very emotionally agitated.
"That delusional, ignorant, foolish, hallucinatory thing! If infection is caused by some invisible little demons, then standing here shouldn't be doctors but priests! What those people need to expel isn't so-called 'microorganisms,' but the hallucinations of devils in their minds! Moreover, they're not conducting rigorous medical research, only attempting to overthrow the status of us monastery doctors!"
He spoke excitedly, even accidentally pressing on Cyren's wound. Cyren's expression immediately twisted together, then that excited doctor was lifted away by the collar by Matilda.
Who knew where she got such great strength, completely unlike a pampered abbess... Cyren always felt puzzled about this but had no opportunity to ask.
Cyren shook his head. After learning Dr. Rhea completely didn't accept germ theory, Cyren also gave up the idea of treatment. The survival rate of this kind of surgery was terrifyingly low.
Rather than placing hope in the doctor, better to hope he could raise his divine arts level and work hard to heal himself.
The wound was in his left abdomen. That bishop's robe embroidered with runes still saved his life, because the gun muzzle had aimed at his lung. If his lung had been hit, he might not have woken up.
Cyren pretended nothing was wrong and got out of bed. His abdomen still transmitted waves of pain, but he picked up the pastoral staff leaning by the headboard and supported it on the ground.
Suddenly, accompanied by a "thump," Joseph knelt before him.
He didn't say anything, just knelt like that, wearing the doorkeeper's white robe. His head was buried very low. There was no weeping, no apologetic words, but Cyren could feel guilt almost crushing him.
He sighed lightly, his right hand gently stroking the top of his head, "Get up. I told you, I forgive you."
"But you must remember, I suffered for you. You have received grace. You drank my blood, so you must become my apostle. This is a covenant made with blood. It must continue to eternity."
Having said this, he slowly left leaning on his staff. Matilda supported him. The soldiers followed behind him worriedly. Joseph knelt there, not leaving for a long time.
…
After returning to the residence, Cyren grimaced as he sat in the Windsor rocking chair in the music hall.
Windsor rocking chairs were currently the most popular furniture, very few pieces of furniture could remain popular for so many years. With industrial development, the low-priced chair entered countless middle-class homes, and catered to the current family concept pursuing "comfort, ease and leisure."
Several thick deep green velvet cushions were placed on the wooden rocking chair, appearing warm and soft. Cyren bent down with difficulty and sat on it. Unexpectedly it was quite good.
All six people except Joseph were present. Cyren clasped his hands, using a slightly weak voice to slowly say, "The matters I didn't finish arranging before, I'll continue."
"Spessay's Church strength is very weak. That you're all still willing to stand by my side at such a time, I deeply appreciate—in my personal name."
Several people all expressed demurral, but Cyren looked at them firmly and said, "This is what you deserve. Even when the Son of God first entered the Holy City and was made difficult by local leaders, believers left him. Yet you haven't abandoned me. It's not that my virtue and ability surpass the Son of God, but that you chose to stand with me."
Fafnir thought, this isn't even believers leaving you, you forcibly convinced enemies into believers!
Cyren continued, "The weakening of Church strength mainly stems from the two months we missed. Rain entered Spessay two months before us and took many authorities temporarily using the natural disaster as justification."
"Now the militia is in his hands. All the fortress's military strength and weapon inventory are in his hands. Most engineers and mechanics are under his control."
"Not only that, he also violently took keys to most areas, inserting his soldiers and confidants into each important position."
"Spessay is divided into nineteen levels and eleven districts."
"Of level 0, the surface level, we only control the cathedral and nearby area. Level 1 damage control we don't manage. Of level 2 living area and levels 3-6 residential areas, 90% of houses and shops are in his hands, these were originally supposed to be evenly split between bishop and governor."
"Level 7 difference engine control area and levels 8-10 boiler areas as Spessay's core, we completely cannot enter."
"In levels 11-12 industrial area, we own control of several production lines, but because the boilers aren't in our hands, Rain's subordinates refuse to provide us steam power."
"Level 13 animal husbandry area and levels 14-16 agricultural areas we can enter, but we completely cannot intervene in the distribution stage, controlled by Rain's subordinates."
"Level 17 reservoir area we also cannot interfere with. Level 18 warehouse area, only the Holy Treasury can be entered."
After saying this information, everyone present fell into silence.
The Church's power here had already weakened to its lowest valley. It had almost lost control over all areas.
If Cyren hadn't desperately won over a squad of soldiers and over 170 villagers, the Church would have become a symbolic existence only able to govern the church area, and even governance of the church area would be gradually eroded.