A Hospital in Another World?

Beckett Blackrock was heartbroken and furious to the extreme.

Although he had long fallen out with his elder brother. Even on the day of the Foundry Festival, when his brother entered his house, he could only be served a cup of barley beer—a courtesy almost extended to strangers. The reason? Pah, for betraying the Father God!

What’s there to believe in the so-called Radiant Lord! Can sunlight reach the mines? Can it help them mine?!

Even when exploring mines outdoors, what they relied on more was the teachings of the Father God!

But apart from turning his back, he couldn’t do much. His brother had a serious lung disease, often gasping for breath, he knew. And the priests of the Father God... although they tried their best to treat him, the effect was just so-so.

The treatment seemed a bit effective on the day, but in less than a month, or even ten days, it would revert to the old state. And how many patients could a priest of the Father God take care of?

It could be months before it was their turn again...

At this time, the involvement of a healer from a heretical faith was better than none. Apart from restraining his wife and children from going to his brother’s side, let alone listen to that heretical priest’s preaching, Beckett Blackrock couldn’t do much more.

Dead is dead!

But when his brother was called for that so-called "lung cleansing" treatment and eventually died, Beckett’s grief and anger didn’t allow him to remain indifferent. He was the one who took care of his brother in his last hours! He watched his brother die with his own eyes!

Unable to lie down, gasping for breath, grasping his chest with his hand repeatedly, his face turning cyanotic, foam at the corners of his mouth always mixed with blood! He was helpless! He could do nothing!

If it weren’t for being called for lung cleansing, if it wasn’t for that heretical priest, who naturally wanted them to sacrifice for their clansmen and for the Radiant Lord, his brother would not have died... Of the four dwarves who were called, two died...

"Despicable heretics! Lapdogs of a foreign god! You think you can hide inside and keep silent! Return my brother’s life! My brother was well and alive, you called him saying it was to cleanse his lungs, and you tortured him to death! Murderers must pay with their lives! Murderers must pay with their lives!!!"

"What, lung cleansing? Lungs can be cleansed?" Garrett’s palm tightened, and the Silver Dragon girl whispered in his ear:

"Turning the lungs inside out to wash them, that’s bound to kill people! Those guys, so annoying!"

"Actually..." Garrett took a deep breath, pulling her back two steps. Avoiding the crowd, they ducked into a quiet corner and whispered:

"The thing about lung cleansing... I was the first one here to do it..."

"What? You?!"

Sairala looked him up and down, as if she didn’t recognize him, as if she had discovered some strange treasure. After a moment, she clenched her fists and swung them angrily: R

"So they’re stealing your technique? A bunch of bastards!—Wait, I’ll expose their lies!"

"Hey, hey, hey, don’t!!!" Garrett hurriedly grabbed her. Once he did, he was dragged outside, stumbling a couple of steps. Luckily, Sairala stopped in time, preventing him from being thrown around the corner:

"Don’t go! I guess they didn’t steal it!"

"You’re still speaking for them?" The Silver Dragon girl stopped and turned back, her silver-blue eyes sparkling as she stared at Garrett, her pupils gradually lightening:

"That bunch of guys, could there be any good people among them?!"

Actually, there really were good people. Statistically, in a large organization, there must be good people, those who sincerely believe in the gods and practice the teachings; practically speaking, that Priest Martin, also left a very good impression on Garrett.

But under the Silver Dragon girl’s anger, Garrett absolutely didn’t want to argue face to face. He could only smile and say:

"I’m not speaking for them, it’s just that they can’t steal it. —Those guys, none of them even know what the lungs look like, let alone inserting a tube, it’s not that easy?"

"So they were messing around on their own..." Sairala’s eyes shifted, accepting this explanation, and glared outside:

"No wonder they killed someone. Pah!"

Actually, the "correct" or rather, under the supervision of modern medical techniques and monitoring equipment, strictly following procedures for lung cleansing, also couldn’t avoid fatalities. Garrett gave a wry smile. Sairala had already grabbed him:

"So lungs can really be cleansed? How

do you do it? How many have you cleansed? Hey, next time you cleanse lungs, can I watch?"

"If you follow the rules, and the family agrees..."

Garrett sighed.

The noise outside grew louder. Suddenly, there was a loud bang, and the mansion’s gate opened. Four Radiant Knights stood two by two, swords drawn, standing on the steps. Following that, two dwarves walked out from inside the mansion, side by side:

"Beckett, stop yelling. Beckett and us, we all voluntarily accepted the treatment. Lung cleansing is inherently dangerous, we were all prepared to sacrifice for our clansmen, even if we died, the Radiant Lord would accept our souls..."

"Pah!—You want him unable to return to the Father God’s side?!"

Beckett threw a punch. The two dwarves furiously retaliated, and the scene erupted into chaos. Some helped to fight, some tried to break it up, the Radiant Knights tried to separate the sides without using too much force, and others took the opportunity to strike from the shadows, hammering their armor until it rang...

Like cold water into hot oil, instantly, the mansion’s entrance was thrown into chaos.

Sairala grew more and more angry as she listened. She clenched her fists and grabbed Garrett:

"You stay here for a while! I’m going to beat them up!"

"Forget it, don’t go." Garrett’s eyes darkened, pulling her into a small alley, far around the center of the commotion. Sairala was very displeased:

"Why? They use your method, messing around on their own, and you still help them?"

"I’m not helping them." Garrett emphasized "them" particularly heavily:

"I’m..."

He sighed softly. Killing people, families carrying the body, gathering a crowd to curse outside, this scene was all too familiar—in his previous life’s decade-plus years as a doctor, it was familiar to the point of near-nightmare.

Maybe the Radiant Church really didn’t value dwarf lives, maybe they wanted to compete with him, but now, some are willing to come forward to testify for them, saying they volunteered for the experiment. A volunteerism lured by faith is still volunteerism...

At least, in the absence of evidence, he couldn’t presume guilt, saying the Radiant Church intentionally killed people. He couldn’t just allow people to start smashing things because someone died.

His expression dimmed, he sighed without a word. Sairala "oh"ed, surprisingly not insisting on fighting or smashing houses, patted his hand back, and followed him in silence.

The two of them circled around and returned to the trading company’s doorway. Just as Garrett was thinking about how to avoid Sairala, quietly informing the archmage of her identity, he saw several dwarves walking quickly towards him:

"Garrett? You’re back? Perfect! We were just looking for you!"

The matter of the Radiant Lord’s priests preaching among the dwarves was taken very seriously by the royal court, but it was difficult to take action—after all, the royal court couldn’t send troops to each tribe. However, killing dwarves under the royal court’s jurisdiction and causing an uproar was another matter.

Archmage Serrano, Mage Simond, and Garrett were all invited to the royal court. Sairala naturally followed, and seeing her as an elven ranger, the magicians couldn’t say much, only giving Garrett several looks.

Garrett could only smile. Standing before the council of elders, the elder who had previously negotiated the lung cleansing matter with him, asked Garrett directly:

"Mr. Nordmark, someone claimed to treat our kin, taking their lives in the process. We want to know, was it intentional harm, or negligence in the treatment process, or was the danger deliberately ignored. Lung cleansing was a treatment method you first created, can you provide us with some guidance?"

Garrett was silent for a moment. So, this was about conducting a medical examination?

He looked around, seeing a body not far away, the dwarf who had been shouting outside the mansion crying, his big beard covered in snot, lying on the body, sobbing uncontrollably. Good, at least there was a body, he wasn’t asked to judge without evidence...

Further away, two Radiant Knights stood on either side, tightly protecting a white-robed priest, glaring at him. Garrett sighed:

"If you allow me to dissect the body, medically, I can roughly determine the cause of death. But—"

"What? Dissection?"

"You want to cut open my brother’s body? Not allowed!"

"Beckett!"

A series of arguments and reprimands. Garrett sighed helplessly.

Just as expected, just as expected—family members mostly don’t allow dissection of the body, unwilling to allow dissection, yet seeking a medical examination, which becomes an insoluble problem. And the families, without answers, many would resort to measures outside the

law...

He rubbed his forehead in frustration. Beside him, Sairala winked at him, her finger pressing on her mouth corner, pulling out an exaggerated smile.

Garrett forced a smile at her. To avoid the argument escalating into a brawl, he raised his hand to signal for quiet, continuing:

"As for questions beyond medicine. I’m just a low-level magician, not well-versed in magic and divine arts. I can’t accurately determine how the deceased died."

The Radiant Knights’ expressions softened slightly. Garrett continued:

"As for whether it was intentional or negligence, that, perhaps, should be asked of the spellcaster themselves. Or perhaps—ask the gods."

"Hmph!"

"Hmph!"

The dwarf crying over the body, and the Radiant Knights on the other side, simultaneously coldly snorted. One might think he was shirking responsibility, the other, maybe offended by the word "gods"? After all, in the eyes of the Radiant Church, only the Radiant Lord is the true deity...

Garrett looked at no one, turned around, and bowed to the council of elders:

"My abilities only go so far. I’m very sorry."

The scene fell silent. Archmage Serrano frowned slightly, the dwarven elders’ faces darkened, and the Radiant Knights glared angrily. Garrett slowly retreated to the side, sitting on the lowest chair in the magicians’ row, silent.

Suddenly, the dwarf holding the body slowly raised his head, wiping away tears:

"So, if I let you perform lung cleansing, and I survive, can it prove they were harming my brother?"Nôv(el)B\\jnn

---------------

• Your invaluable feedback and ratings mean the world to me. Please take a moment to rate this novel at Novelupdate.

• If you come across any mistakes within this chapter, kindly notify me in the comments below, so that I can make the necessary corrections.