A Hospital in Another World?

Chapter 123

Chapter 123

A cluster of priests surrounded Garrett Nordmark, eagerly vying for his attention, each trying to speak over the others. As Garrett was about to invite them in, a hoarse voice emanated from behind the tent:

"Count me in as well"

The voice was unusually raspy, with eyes deep and mysterious, resembling ghostly flames even in broad daylight. Behind the tent, a black cat with white gloves gracefully leaped down and landed in front of Garrett, letting out a gentle meow.

"Linde Ferrell!"

Garrett exclaimed joyfully and hurriedly approached. Linde Ferrell, the necromancer, had been Garrett's guide when he first entered the world of magic. Garrett had obtained admission to the Mage Tower with the recommendation letter Linde had provided. Although months had passed since they last met due to Garrett's studies in magic, divine arts, and experiments, Garrett cherished the debt of gratitude.

Separated for months, Linde Ferrell still maintained his peculiar appearance in a swaying black robe with a skull on top. However, the fur of the black cat, Troka, seemed much glossier, indicating a comfortable few months.

"Linde Ferrell, Troka, welcome!"

Garrett greeted them with delight. Seeing Linde reminded him of the golden skeleton capable of lifting his own head and disassembling his hip bone. Garrett was eager to revisit that peculiar experience.

"Long time no see! Did you come with the others? I didn't see you during departure!"

"Of course, I had to come." Linde Ferrell smiled, though his appearance was unsettling, with shrunken skin and twitching facial muscles. Only the eyes, reminiscent of a doctor's gaze, could discern the direction of facial muscle movement. He continued:

"That old man Gelman had you all protected at the rear, charging into battle alone! And he deliberately kept it from me! I had to rush over alone, went the wrong way, almost bumped into the Radiant Church people!"

"Ah!" Garrett exclaimed. The Radiant Lord was known to be the bane of necromancers, enhancing skeletal damage with healing spells. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm fine." Linde Ferrell grinned ominously. "Killed two of them. By the way, what brought you all the way here? Aren't you a mage?"

"But I'm also a priest... I came this time to heal... uh, to heal wounds and save lives."

The necromancer shot him a accusing look. A priest? If you're a priest, go to the temple! Why did you bother getting a recommendation letter from me? I went through the trouble of writing many praises for you, and you come visit me as a priest?

Garrett felt a bit uneasy under his gaze. He took a step back, hastily finding an excuse to soothe Linde:

"By the way, if you have time, come over! When I'm healing, I often use surgical techniqueslike cutting and stitching people up. Come lend a hand and discuss it together?"

Linde's eyes lit up. He looked at the tent expectantly, tempted, but eventually shook his head:

"I made a deal with Gelman. I'm with the scout team this time, so I probably won't have time for a while. Oh, and this is what I found on those pups. Take a look, see if there's anything you can use."

He waved, and Troka jumped forward, pulling out a bag from somewhere. Pouring its contents, which included emblems, prayer books, small vials, onto the ground with a clatter, they glittered in the light.

Garrett instinctively cast a detection spell. A burst of white light dazzled him, and he shielded his eyes. The white light from the emblem pierced through his flesh, revealing the bones of his hand. Garrett was overjoyed:

"I can use this! Fantastic!"

A level five! A level five magical item! A source of X-ray light!

No more borrowing every time!

He held the emblem, gazing into the distance. Outside the military camp, a small city stood on distant hills, its flags fluttering brightly. It was the castle they were about to attack. Having followed the team for so long, Garrett knew it was Newark City in Midland County, the first obstacle on the march of the allied forces. The Count of Midland County was a fervent follower of the Radiant Lord, and the arrival of the Templar Knights had further strengthened their defense. Rumor had it that the earl's territory housed a vital harbor, one of the landing points for the Radiant Church. Count Norman, leading a large army, was determined to defeat the Midland County Lord first and block the opponent before landing at the Radiant Church.

"We're going to attack the city" Garrett murmured. Storming a well-fortified city usually resulted in significant casualties. Tomorrow's battle seemed destined to be a tough one.

Early the next morning, Garrett rushed to the military camp of the city guards. Holding a bucket of ink in his left hand and a pen in his right, he drew lines on soldiers' arms and legs one by one:

"Turn left! Turn right! Stand straight! Oh, good, if you're seriously injured, tie the tourniquet here. Remember!"

A group of soldiers watched him with smiles, forming a line and obediently letting him draw lines on them. Captain Karen smiled and ruffled his hair:

"Little Garrett, don't worry. We don't even know if we'll go into battle today!"

Garrett looked up at him. Emotions from the original owner and memories from his time in this world intertwined. After struggling for a while, all he could manage was:

"Come back alive!"

The war began. While the priest camp remained quiet, Garrett couldn't see the specific battle but could hear the relentless sounds of slaughter ahead. Bernard, a barbarian follower, fidgeted with his big club, standing up and sitting down repeatedly. Unable to withstand the idleness, Garrett assigned him a task:

"Keep helping me sharpen the clamps! Try to sharpen more; there will be a lot of injuries later!"

He busied himself preparing saline, alcohol, arranging cotton, gauze, bandages, and potions. Before noon, wounded soldiers started arriving one after another:

"Knight Scott is injured!"

"Sir Terence is injured!"

"Knight Vincent is injured!"

The priests systematically attended to them. Prayers murmured continuously, and white light flickered. Soon after the knights, poorly dressed common soldiers were carried over, running urgently:

"Save him! Please save him!"

Blood dripped steadily. Garrett stood by the camp fence, watching them run towards the nearby camp of Melton's priest squad. Before long, pleading and shouting echoed from that direction:

"No cure!"

"Carry him away!"

"Move aside! The knights can't handle it either!"

"Please save himCaptain got injured for us, sob... He has a little son waiting at home, and his daughter is about to get married..."

Garrett's expression turned solemn. Before embarking on this journey, he had heard and even learned that a priest's healing was mainly reserved for nobles. Whether commoners received treatment depended on the caster's mood at the time. Despite being prepared for this, Garrett brought plenty of supplies on this trip, intending to

 heal as many common soldiers as possible.

But hearing about it and witnessing it were two different things.

He sighed silently, wanting to go help those people but hesitated. Just then, the sound of footsteps approached rapidly. Two guards from Hartland City led the way, carrying wounded soldiers, and they headed straight for Garrett:

"Little Garrett, help us save them!"

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