A Hospital in Another World?

Performing a lung cleansing for the dwarf prince was a significant political and diplomatic affair. Garrett had no intention of making decisions on his own and immediately reported the matter, prompting a meeting among the mage members of the trade delegation.

"So... how confident are you?"

"Well... individuals vary, and even if there’s just a 1% chance of failure, it becomes a certainty for the one it befalls..."

"You never give a straight answer!"

Archmage Serrano was frustrated. Garrett bowed his head in silence. He wished he could say that he was over 70% confident by himself, and with a high-ranking priest observing, the chances should exceed 85%...

But his words circled back, following the old paths of his previous life. The pre-operation briefing template was used: stable and watertight, detailing the risks of surgery and possible complications, never committing to any definitive outcome.

Such habits were deeply ingrained.

Moreover, without CT scans, pre-operative blood tests, a range of rescue equipment and medications, and relying entirely on manual ventilation...

The safety margin dropped by 10%, and then another 10%, and yet another 10%...

Garrett refused to speak out, and Archmage Serrano couldn’t force him, including avoiding the use of a "Charm Human" spell for persuasion. After pondering for a moment, Serrano began to inquire in detail:

"What’s the likelihood of the prince losing without treatment?"

"Has the candidate from the Black Rock tribe embraced the Radiant Lord?"

"How infiltrated is their tribe?"

Garrett could provide some peripheral information for the first question, but he couldn’t answer the latter two. At best, he could offer a bit of insight:

"Seraila mentioned that everyone in the selection team has a scent she dislikes—"

"Oh~~~~"

The meeting room erupted into a mix of coughs and chuckles, with amused glances flying around. Even Archmage Serrano abandoned the main topic, leaning forward eagerly, resting his elbows on the table:

"Little Garrett, quite capable, aren’t you? Going out for a bit and bringing back an elf! Tell us, how did you meet? How old is she? How far have things progressed?"

"Uh—" Before Garrett could hesitate, everyone in the room impatiently urged him on:

"Come on, tell us!"

"Let’s hear it!"

"Sharing with us might give you some ideas!"

"Never courted a lady before, Garrett? No? Then you definitely need our experience! Elves are rare; it’s crucial to seize the opportunity!"

This was big news!

Huge news, indeed!

Someone had enticed an elf! Since elves crossed the seas thousands of years ago, disappearing on the other side of the green seas, seeing an elf on the continent was as rare as once or twice every few centuries! �

Of course, some elves might walk among them incognito, changing their appearances, but if not discovered, who would know?

Catching up to them was secondary—indeed, mages’ marriages were always a tricky issue. In this meeting room, led by Archmage Serrano, at least half were lifelong bachelors, and their advice might not be very useful—but they were all eager for the excitement.

Everyone’s eyes sparkled with anticipation, urging Garrett on. Unable to stop them, he dipped his finger in the tea and began writing on the table. Mage Hari leaned in to look:

"Ah, why write it down if you can say it—eh?"

He froze instantly. The laughter and chatter in the room halted as if hit by a "Rapid Freeze," instantly quieting down.

On the table, written clearly and still wet, was one word:

Silver Dragon.

"Uh..."

"Uh..."

Coughs followed. If an elf girl could be a subject of teasing, a Silver Dragon was no joke. Even a young Silver Dragon, returning to its true form and charging in, would be more than enough for everyone in the room!

And to the north of the Black Gate Peninsula, there were dragons. Though said to be seven or eight hundred kilometers away, for a dragon clan, that was merely a day’s flight. Meaning, even if you could defeat her, it would be pointless; she had someone, or rather, a dragon, backing her...

What, you say just gossip behind her back, without offending a dragon? Wishful thinking. Why would dragons reason with humans?

"Cough, let’s continue discussing the treatment..."

Everyone contributed their thoughts, continuing to gather intelligence. Garrett also provided several key pieces of information, such as encountering six other teams while the selection team descended the mountain:

Some, like the Black Rock tribe, were encountered halfway, estimating a four or five-day return journey, leaving enough time for repairs; others were met after descending, with a push they could make it back in time for the final battle, but missing it meant losing the chance to

compete.

Among those equipped with full body armor and weapons, aside from Prince Roserga’s team, only the Black Rock tribe, who had accelerated their mining progress with the help of burrowing worms, stood out.

"If nothing unexpected happens, the final battle will be between Prince Roserga and Kai..." Archmage Serrano twirled his beard around his finger, tangled in thought for a while before finally issuing orders:

"Hari, find a familiar dwarf and inquire how many in the Black Rock tribe follow the Radiant Lord."

"I’ll do my best."

"Simond, check on Prince Roserga. Besides lung cleansing, see if there are safer alternatives."

"Right, I’ll head out after the meeting."

"Garrett... um..."

All eyes in the room turned to him. Archmage Serrano hesitated:

"You mentioned earlier that Miss Seraila once said everyone in the selection team had a scent she disliked?"

"Yes. Based on the context and preceding events, I believe she was referring to the scent of those who follow the Radiant Lord."

"That simplifies things." Archmage Serrano’s eyebrows relaxed:

"Accompany her, find a dwarf guide, and discreetly visit the Black Rock tribe’s dwelling. Take a look around to see how many carry the scent she dislikes—"

Although the plan resembled using the Silver Dragon girl as a sniffer dog, Garrett couldn’t think of a better one. He ventured out as instructed, returning with a startling discovery:

"I don’t want to roam here anymore!" Seraila crinkled her nose, dragging him out:

"Half of them have the disgusting scent! If we don’t leave, I’ll start tearing them apart! I mean it, I’ll demolish their houses!"

"Alright, alright, we’re leaving immediately." Garrett agreed readily: "What would you like to see next?"

"I want to see you water a rabbit!"

"..." Girl, tone down your dragon might; I fear the rabbit will die of fright before I’m done...

While the trigger for her aversion was unclear—whether a shallow believer sufficed, or if devout followers were needed, and whether the Radiant Church had brought all its followers—it was evident from the sample that they couldn’t be overlooked. After Archmage Serrano gathered all the information, he made a decisive call:

"Do it! Garrett, go ahead with it, the council has your back! Even if it fails, no one will trouble you!"

With sincerity and motivation, the surgery quickly moved to the preparation stage. Garrett walked around Prince Roserga, back and forth, asking:

"By the way, what level warrior are you?"n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

"Level eight." Roserga smiled broadly. "I’ve been stuck for over a decade, unable to advance to level nine, which is a pity..."

Garrett silently glanced at Bernard. See, he’s level eight, and you’re only level seven—after more than two years, when will you level up?

Bernard scratched his head: "Boss, I feel I’m close too..."

Walking and pausing. Garrett shrugged: A level eight warrior, and his Endless Ink Pen seemed inadequate, unable to reveal lung conditions. Without a CT scan, not even taking a chest X-ray, surgery was out of the question!

"Um... do you have any equipment of level 13 or above we could borrow? Any type, as long as the level is sufficient! We’d use it for scanning during the surgery!"

"This..."

Prince Roserga was troubled. Equipment above level 13 in the Dwarf Kingdom was neither plentiful nor scarce, but a few pieces existed—not under his control, though.

Some were national treasures in the treasury, others in the hands of master craftsmen. Despite his status as the king’s son, he had no special privileges and couldn’t use them at will. Borrowing now, with the selection battle imminent, maintaining fairness was essential—

"How many? Level 13?" Seraila peeked over:

"Just level 13 is enough, right? Then go ahead and scan! Be bold and confident!"

She casually flipped her hair. On her forehead, a teardrop-shaped silver-blue gem shone brightly, making her eyes sparkle irresistibly. Garrett tentatively released a "Detect Magic" spell, only to scream, covering his eyes:

So bright!

So bright!

Too bright!

It was like being unexpectedly hit in the face with a flashbang! Any sunglasses around to shield me—

Retinal damage, retinal bleeding, macular degeneration, retinal detachment...

A list of eye diseases flashed through his mind. Help, if problems arise here, apart from healing spells, there are no other treatments!

It took Garrett a while to calm down. The bright light seen in his meditative vision didn’t rely on the retina, naturally, this kind of light also didn’t irritate the eyes. Also, girl, you’re truly wealthy; what level is your magical artifact?

Under the dazzling light of the rich

girl, Garrett completed the pre-operative examination. It was far from easy, mainly because Seraila hovered nearby, incessantly asking questions:

"What’s this?"

"Rib."

"And this?"

"Spine."

"Why is this moving?"

"Because it’s the heart."

"Why does this look speckled?"

"Congratulations, you’ve spotted his lung shadows... This is where the lung disease is, and our lung cleansing will target this area for treatment..."

Prince Roserga stood frozen, shivering.

"Can you guys hurry it up... Watching someone else’s lungs being cleansed doesn’t worry me, but hearing you point things out on me truly frightens me!"

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