Chương 72: CHAPTER 70: EMERGENCY SUTURE

The sudden, violent swelling inside Master Dora's right thigh turned the heavy muscle tissue firm and remarkably rigid within seconds, bulging hard against the thick, blood-soaked leather of his trousers. The internal fluid pressure within the deep leg compartment was rising at an alarming rate as the shattered femoral artery continuously poured dark, unoxygenated blood directly into the surrounding muscle fascia, creating a massive hematoma beneath the skin.

On the polished granite operating table, Dora thrashed uncontrollably in his state of deep trauma, his heavy iron heels digging repeatedly into the stone surface as his central nervous system reacted to the rapid, terrifying shock of severe internal hemorrhage. The cardiac monitoring runes carved into the clinic wall flashed an erratic, high-frequency purple light, signaling that his pulse was spiking to extreme levels while his overall vascular pressure collapsed toward zero.

Rudra did not show a single trace of panic or emotion. His deadpan expression remained completely still beneath the pale blue glow of the laboratory runes, but his hands were already moving with cold, mechanical efficiency.

"Secondary arterial rupture confirmed," Rudra stated flatly to the quiet room, his voice calm, even, and completely detached from the chaotic scene unfolding on his slab.

"High-volume extravasation in progress. Immediate surgical decompression required to prevent total compartment syndrome and subsequent cellular necrosis." In the far corner of the apothecary, the injured Night-Vane scout thrashed weakly against his silver paralysis needles, his bloodshot eyes wide with horror as he watched the rapid, unnatural swelling in his leader's leg.

"Doctor! What is happening to his leg?! Why is it bulging like that?!"

"Vascular compartment syndrome," Rudra answered cleanly, without turning his head or breaking his intense clinical concentration.

"The main femoral artery has suffered a total structural wall failure beneath the fascia. If the internal fluid pressure is not relieved within ninety seconds, the surrounding muscle tissue will undergo irreversible necrotic death, followed by complete cardiac arrest from absolute blood volume loss." Rudra reached for his heavy iron shears with his left hand while pulling his cold-moon scalpel from the sterilization tray with his right.

With three swift, powerful cuts, he sliced through the thick leather straps, heavy iron leg guards, and blood-drenched cloth of Dora's right trousers, peeling the ruined material away to expose the swollen thigh completely under the surgical lights. The skin over the upper thigh was stretched drum-tight, turned a deep purple and black from the massive internal pool of trapped blood building beneath the muscular fascia. Cardiac output dropping rapidly...

agar 60 seconds me artery repair nahi hui toh brain tissue permanent oxygen loss ki wajah se dead ho jayega! Rudra thought to himself, his internal voice sharp, calculated, and purely focused on the anatomical variables. (Cardiac output is dropping rapidly... if the artery isn't repaired within 60 seconds, the brain tissue will die permanently due to oxygen loss!) Without a moment of hesitation, Rudra drove the sharp tip of his cold-moon scalpel into the lateral side of Dora's right thigh, performing a swift, four-inch longitudinal fasciotomy along the anatomical muscle line. SPLASH. A thick, dark wave of pent-up, unoxygenated blood burst out of the deep incision, splashing heavily into the brass collection trough Rudra had kicked into position beneath the edge of the granite table.

The immense physical pressure inside the thigh compartment relieved itself instantly, the swollen flesh relaxing as nearly a full liter of trapped, dark fluid poured out of the muscle space and into the vessel below. Working with sub-millimeter precision, Rudra reached into the open incision with his sanitized iron forceps, carefully spreading the bleeding muscle fibers aside to expose the deep vascular bed beneath the inner thigh. There, pulsing weakly beneath the torn fascia, was the main femoral artery.

The thick wall of the primary blood vessel was violently shredded, split wide open along a two-inch section where a hidden spike of bone or a dark magic blade had torn through the biological tissue during his battle with the capital executioners. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

"Suction and field clearance," Rudra commanded himself, his voice dropping into his habitual, steady surgical rhythm. He activated his passive Kinetic Analysis, mapping the micro-structure of the torn vessel walls down to the individual cellular layer. The edges of the torn artery were frayed, heavily bruised, and contaminated with microscopic bits of torn leather, dirt, and faint traces of low-grade corrosive mana left behind by the imperial blades.

"Standard silk thread will dissolve under this level of internal mana corrosion," Rudra noted dryly as he evaluated the tissue stability through his diagnostic vision.

"Switching to high-density botanical Silver-Vine filaments." He reached into his spatial ring with a subtle flick of his wrist, pulling out a sealed glass storage tube containing glowing, pale-green threads harvested from the rare Silver-Vine Lotus. These botanical filaments were infinitely finer than human hair, completely immune to magical corrosion, and possessed natural bio-integrative properties that fused seamlessly with human vascular walls upon direct contact.

Rudra attached the glowing thread to a tiny, curved silver micro-needle. His hands transformed completely into instruments of pure clinical execution. His organic left hand guided the surgical forceps with steady, fluid precision, while his right hand—his dark-iron prosthetic—calibrated its internal gears, dropping its motor output down to microscopic, vibration-free movements.

"Initiating micro-vascular reconstruction," Rudra stated flatly. He dipped a small glass dropper into a vial of clear, refined plant neutralizer, dropping three cold drops directly onto the torn arterial walls. The clear liquid instantly dissolved the dark, corrosive magic residue clinging to the flesh, leaving the raw, red edges of the vessel clean and ready for structural alignment. Rudra leaned low over the open wound, his dark eyes deadpan, unblinking, and entirely focused on the microscopic field before him.

TAP. SWISH. The curved silver needle passed smoothly through the delicate inner layer of the femoral artery, pulling the glowing green thread cleanly through the tissue wall. Rudra worked at blinding speed, his dark metal fingers moving with the rhythmic, clockwork accuracy of a high-precision mechanical loom. One stitch. Two stitches. Three stitches. Each micro-suture was placed exactly zero point five millimeters apart, pulling the frayed edges of the torn artery together with perfect, even tension.

The glowing Silver-Vine thread hummed softly as it touched the warm human tissue, its natural botanical properties instantly cauterizing the microscopic needle punctures and sealing the vessel against any future fluid leakage. In the quiet room, the only sounds were the heavy tropical rain slamming against the roof tiles, the rhythmic click of Rudra's silver forceps, and the faint, wet whistling of the scout's chest drain in the far corner. The scout watched the entire procedure in stunned, absolute silence.

He had seen high-tier holy healers cast expensive light spells to close surface wounds, but he had never seen a surgeon operate inside the deep muscle tissue of a living man with bare metal fingers, re-stitching an invisible blood vessel with threads that glowed like living vines.

"He's... he's actually rebuilding the artery from the inside out..." the scout whispered under his breath, his bloodshot eyes wide with deep, superstitious awe as he lay pinned to the floor. By the ninth stitch, the primary tear in the femoral artery was completely closed. The glowing green thread formed a seamless, perfectly aligned spiral along the length of the damaged vessel wall, securing the tissue against arterial pressure.

Rudra reached for a small silver vascular clamp, slowly loosening the mechanical pressure on the upper artery to allow the natural blood flow to return to the lower leg. The dark, thick blood surged back through the femoral artery. The reconstructed vessel expanded smoothly under the sudden return of fluid pressure, pulsing steadily and strongly beneath the light of the wall runes. Not a single drop of blood leaked from the micro-sutures.

The glowing Silver-Vine thread held the vessel firmly in place, fusing directly with the smooth inner lining of the arterial wall.

"Vascular continuity restored," Rudra reported calmly to the empty room.

"Internal fluid pressure stabilizing." He grabbed a bottle of distilled alcohol, flushing out the open thigh incision to clear away any remaining blood clots, then used his curved needle to stitch the deep muscle layers and outer skin closed with clean, heavy linen sutures. With the femoral artery fully sealed and the subclavian artery in his chest stabilized, Dora's erratic heart rate on the wall runes began to smooth out.

The purple flashing light faded away completely, replaced by a steady, deep blue glow signaling that his vital systems were returning to a stable, healthy baseline. The pale, ash-gray color in the warrior's face slowly gave way to a warm, natural flush as oxygenated blood flooded back into his brain and limbs. Rudra set his scalpels down on the stainless metal tray with a quiet, metallic clink.

He pulled off his blood-stained linen apron, tossed it into the wash basin, and reached for a clean towel to carefully wipe his dark-iron fingers.

"Surgical intervention complete," Rudra murmured, turning his back toward the operating table to pour himself a fresh cup of warm spring water from the brass kettle on the side counter.

"Patient entering post-operative recovery phase." He picked up the ceramic cup, taking a slow, quiet sip of the warm water as he looked out the front window at the pouring rain outside, enjoying the sudden return of quiet baseline order in his workspace. Behind him, on the granite operating table, the quiet room suddenly shattered. HAHH! A sudden, violent intake of air echoed sharply through the apothecary as Master Dora's massive chest heaved upward.

Dora's eyes snapped wide open, glowing with a fierce, unstable crimson light. His high-tier combat core, fully replenished by the restored blood flow to his heart and brain, surged back to life with terrifying physical force. A heavy, suffocating wave of raw, red physical mana erupted from his body, cracking the polished surface of the granite slab beneath him. Driven by pure, battle-forged survival instinct, the massive syndicate leader didn't stop to examine his surroundings or realize he was in a clinic.

His right hand darted out like a heavy iron claw, slamming directly around Rudra's throat from behind with bone-crushing strength.