A Hospital in Another World?

"What? Master Talbert?"

Garrett jumped up, only to be immediately grabbed by Gavin and rushed outside. Archmage Serrano glanced at Mage Simond, who nodded calmly and followed behind:

It was partly for Master Talbert. Everyone had traveled together to this point, and even if delivering the person to their destination marked the end of the mission, they still hoped the old dwarf would be well. Not to mention, having the Master there would add another voice for the Magic Council;

And partly for Garrett. This young mage’s impulsiveness had been a revelation to Serrano, who could always expect him to pull something unexpected. Now with Master Talbert critically ill, Serrano truly feared Garrett might do something reckless—

Like, perhaps, attempting to cleanse an old man’s lungs?

Having someone familiar watching over was always more reassuring.

Mage Simond followed Garrett—with a tracking spell on him, he cast a speed-enhancing spell on himself, not needing to quicken his pace much to reach the old dwarf’s residence. The room was already in chaos, with people shouting, running, trying to wake the old dwarf, and screaming for a priest...

In the midst of the turmoil, Garrett charged straight in, throwing himself beside the old man’s bed. He cast a 【Bloodline Discrimination - Modified】spell, immediately ordering high-flow oxygen for the old dwarf. Increasing the oxygen generator’s efficiency, purity, and delivery speed—

Joking aside, the newly developed blood oxygen identification magic showed a screen trending towards dark red in color! Any darker, and it would be the color of venous blood!

"Make way! Make way! Let him breathe oxygen!" Garrett’s urgent voice immediately overpowered the room. His voice was the only one heard in the entire room:

"Bernard, crank faster! Faster!"

"...What’s this for? Shouldn’t we cast healing spells instead of having someone crank a handle to pump air?"

In the crowd, a white-haired dwarf priest with wrinkled skin similar to Master Talbert’s, though aged, asked with a frown. Even as he spoke, his healing spells didn’t stop, casting gentle waves of white light from his war hammer onto Master Talbert.

Garrett, busy adjusting the oxygen tube—no, summoning vines, didn’t have the time to respond. It was Master Talbert’s disciple, Viglan, who had escorted him back, that explained on his behalf:

"The master has been unwell throughout the journey, surviving only by inhaling this gas."

The old priest nodded, no longer speaking. Mage Simond also retracted his steps, not charging into the crowd any further:

...It was right to come and see. The youngster took over the rescue operation immediately, regardless of whether it could save the patient or not, or how many high-ranking priests were present, or how unconventional the methods were—just like when treating orcs, rashly opting for surgery...

If Garrett heard his thoughts, he would definitely retort: Of course, I should take charge of the rescue! In terms of healing spells, high-ranking priests might outperform him; but in resuscitating critically ill patients, he could proudly claim: I am the professional!

...In fact, some professional knowledge was excessive. Like adjusting oxygen flow, concentration, temperature, and humidity, these were tasks for an anesthesiologist, not just any priest capable of casting pain relief spells. Garrett silently complained, never stopping his efforts.

A surgeon treats the disease, an anesthesiologist keeps the patient alive; like adjusting oxygen flow, concentration, temperature, and humidity, all tasks for an anesthesiologist!

Fortunately, the high-flow oxygen treatment was absolutely correct. After a series of efforts, Master Talbert finally stabilized, leaning back in bed gasping for air. Garrett finally stopped, wiping sweat off his brow:

"We’re out of immediate danger... Tonight, don’t let the master lie flat, keep him propped up, maintain low-flow oxygen... just keep this oxygen supply device running without stopping. Avoid exertion in the next few days, no smoking, keep a stable mood... and no smoking in the room, try not to light fires, but keep warm..."

He listed the medical instructions one by one, fearing any omission might worsen the condition. It took a while before he finished, exhaling deeply:

"There’s nothing else to be wary of. Take good care of the master, I’m leaving..."

"Garrett!" Gavin rushed over, grabbing him:

"Isn’t there any other way? Grandfather, aside from being careful all the time, is there no other way to treat him?"

Garrett silently shook his head. Pneumoconiosis is irreversible, especially in the late stage with extensive fibrosis and widespread infection in the lungs, basically leaving only exhaustion and death. —At least, that was the case in his former world.

Here, if divine magic could cure pneumoconiosis, then many dwarves wouldn’t suffer from the disease. To put it another way, even Master Talbert himself, a level 13 priest, wouldn’t be unable to heal himself if it were possible.

Gavin’s shoulders slumped in disappointment. However, Viglan stepped forward, blocking Garrett’s path, and looked at him eagerly:

"What about those experiments you’ve been doing recently? That thing... lung cleansing? Is it available for use now?"

"No!"

"Absolutely not!"

Two voices responded at the same time. One was Garrett’s, the other belonged to Mage Simond. While answering, the mage made his way through the crowd and grabbed Garrett:

"That technique could choke an animal to death; it cannot be used on humans!"

"But... Garrett has been experimenting on 20 rabbits these past few days, and not a single one has died!"

The young lad doesn’t share anything with anyone, making it impossible to keep up with him. Mage Simond cursed silently, about to argue back when suddenly a commanding voice echoed from a corner of the room:

"What is this lung cleansing? Can it help?"

The dwarves instantly parted ways. Mage Simond, following the opening, could only release Garrett and bow respectfully:

"Your Majesty."

"Your Majesty." Garrett followed in bowing. He then lifted his head, explaining earnestly:

"Lung cleansing is about pouring clean saline into the lungs and then drawing it out to remove the dust accumulated there. This technique is extremely dangerous and could easily drown the patient. —And besides, Master Talbert is too old and frail; he wouldn’t survive such a procedure!"

He explained as thoroughly as possible, aiming to dissuade the dwarves from the idea—after all, Master Talbert was too old, with too many contraindications, definitely not a candidate for such surgery. However, after listening carefully, the king smiled and said:

"So, this method of yours is to help us expel the dust from our lungs and restore health?"

"Yes—yes, that’s correct..."

"So, what about me? Would I be a suitable candidate for it?"

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