A Hospital in Another World?

What?

You?

Lung cleansing for you?

Garrett almost thought he was hallucinating. Your Majesty, I just mentioned that Master Talbert is too old for a lung cleansing... but he’s only 350 years old! You’re already 400, aren’t you?

400 years old!

For a moment, Garrett seemed to hear a powerful song echoing in his ears:

"I really want to live another five hundred years—"

He shook his head vigorously. At the same time, Mage Simond stepped forward and pulled him back.

Garrett: "..." That’s not necessary...

"No, you can’t do it either," Garrett said sternly. He broke free from Mage Simond’s grasp, stepped forward, and stood right in front of the king:

"Your age is too great. This treatment is suited for younger patients with milder symptoms."

Specifically, it works better for patients with Stage 0 and Stage I pneumoconiosis, less so for Stage II, and even less for Stage III. Of course, there’s no need to go into details...

"Ah, I may be old, but I’m still in good shape!" the king said with a beaming smile, refusing to step aside. He raised his palm and patted his chest, producing a "clang" sound:

"Don’t look at me being four hundred years old, I was a level fifteen warrior in my youth! Even now, young man, you might not have more strength than me. How about we arm wrestle to see?"

If you were really in good health, you wouldn’t need to step down!

Garrett silently critiqued. He took a deep breath, ready to argue further, but Vigran had already stepped forward, half-turning his body to face the old king. The stocky figure stood in front of Garrett, and though it barely blocked any view due to the height difference, it didn’t stop him from speaking loudly:

"Your Majesty, let me do it! I’m younger and in better health!"

"I’ll do it!" Gavin jumped up: "I’m even younger! And in better health! The sick one is my grandfather, it should be me trying it!"

"You still have to participate in the king’s selection! I’ll do it!"

"Me!"

The dwarves became a ruckus. Their short, stout arms waved at each other, almost starting a fight right there. Garrett stepped back once, twice, then again...

Hey, doesn’t anyone care if I’m willing to do it or not?

"Do you still want to do it now?" A soft chuckle sounded. Garrett suddenly turned around, meeting Mage Simond’s smiling eyes, a mix of indulgence and curiosity in his smile:

"You’ve been fussing about this since on the ship, I thought you wanted more bargaining chips. But now that the negotiations are over, you’re still trying. Do you think it can help them?"

Garrett quickly looked around. Mage Simond shook his finger:

"Don’t worry, I’ve set up a sound barrier.—Ah, back to the point, is lung cleansing really effective?"

"It really works, one cleansing for the mild symptoms can alleviate two to three years of discomfort without chest pain. But it’s also very dangerous... It took me so long to make all animal experiments successful..." ŗÄ

The two mages chatted quietly, retreating to a corner of the tent. As they did, Garrett suddenly felt something hard behind him. He turned sharply to see an old dwarf standing behind him, his right hand holding a staff aloft, the tip glowing faintly. Garrett recognized him as one of the elders attending the banquet. He was about to salute when the old dwarf winked at him:

"Mr. Mage, you need a younger patient for certainty, don’t you?"

"I never said I would cure!" Garrett almost jumped. The old dwarf smiled, his eyes squinting kindly but with a hint of slyness, waving his hand:

"Ah, I saw everything you just said. —There’s no helping it, living a long time, you end up learning a thing or two, like human languages, or lip-reading..."

Garrett wanted to roll his eyes. However, the old dwarf suddenly became serious and said:

"Mr. Mage, I’ve lived nearly 400 years. I can see clearly what’s well-intentioned and what’s not. You are a friend to us dwarves, here with a heart to help."

He stepped forward, gently placing his hand on Garrett’s wrist:

"The harm from mining and forging has troubled us for thousands of years. If you have a way, even if it’s just a fifty percent chance, we would like to ask you to try."

After finishing, he stroked his beard and bowed deeply to Garrett. The dwarf’s stature was already low; with the bow, his head nearly touched Garrett’s knees. Garrett hurried to help him up:

"Hey, you—"

It took all of Garrett’s strength to lift the old dwarf, and he was sweating profusely by the end. With the conversation having reached this point, there was no use beating around the bush anymore. Mage Simond simply pulled everyone together to sit down and have a serious talk:

First, the dangers of lung cleansing were significant; it wouldn’t be surprising if half of those who underwent the procedure died. If anything indeed went wrong, the Dwarf Kingdom would not hold anyone accountable, ensuring Garrett’s safety within the royal city;

Second, those undergoing the procedure would volunteer themselves, and Garrett would choose who he would treat. No one he decided against treating would be forced upon him;

Third, from the dwarves’ side, they would provide the best healers to assist, always ready to offer healing magic to ensure safety...

Each point was clarified, and even a magical scroll was spread out for drafting the contract solemnly. The elder dwarf led a prayer to the Father God, and in a flash of white light, the king bit his finger, pressing a blood fingerprint onto the scroll.

From the council’s side, led by Archmage Serrano who had hurried over upon hearing the news, along with Mage Simond and Garrett, they successively left magical marks. Once all procedures were completed, Garrett turned around—

To face Prince Rothergar, Gavin, Gina, and Master Talbert’s disciple Vigran at the forefront, surrounded by a bustling crowd of twenty or thirty people.

"...What are you doing here?"

Garrett felt a headache coming on just from looking at them. The prince raised an eyebrow and smiled confidently:

"If something is beneficial to our people but also dangerous, I should naturally be the first to try it. Isn’t that right?"

Garrett: "...Get lost!"

Despite the commotion, which stirred not just a few but hundreds within the Firehammer Tribe, the operation began bright and early the next day, with a crowd standing layers deep outside. By Vigran’s bedside, apart from the elder who had overseen the signing, stood no fewer than five priests:

"Don’t be afraid, as long as you don’t die on the spot, we can bring you back!"

Garrett: "...It’s not that dangerous..."

He had already become proficient with rabbits; switching to dwarves just meant injecting a bit more fluid. With local anesthesia applied, the vines, carrying the Arcane Eye silently entered, barely making half a turn before the dwarves in the room began pointing at the light screen projected by the Arcane Eye, erupting into discussion:

"So dark!"

"Yes, pitch black!"

"All our lungs can’t be filled with this, can they?"

"No wonder the more we work, the more uncomfortable our chests feel. With all this dust, how could it not?"

Garrett smiled slightly, not at all surprised. Seeing him look so confident, the dwarf priests trusted him even more, their twelve eyes glued to his hands, waiting for him to act, their voices quieting down.

Garrett, calm and collected, pinched a few seeds between his fingers, directing the growth of the vines. One vine grew to the left, another to the right; the one to the left swelled significantly, blocking the bronchus and infusing pure oxygen; the right one waited until the waste cannon completely deflated before injecting sterile saline...

Inject, extract!

"It’s coming out!" The five dwarf priests leaned over to watch. The extracted fluid collected in a vacuum drainage bottle, accumulating quickly:

"So much dust! The water’s turned black, no wonder it’s called lung cleansing!"

The saline was injected, then extracted; injected, then extracted again. Garrett strictly followed the operating procedures, performing three rounds of lung cleansing before supplying high-flow oxygen until the blood oxygen saturation returned to normal. Then, inject and extract again...

Three rounds made one cycle, for a total of nine cycles, until the extracted liquid went from turbid to clear. Then, he switched to the other lung lobe and continued the cleansing.

Once everything was finished and the anesthesia magic was lifted, Vigran sprang up.

"I’m fine! I survived the cleaning!"

Garrett: "...Get out! Anyone who didn’t know better would think I was giving you a bath!"

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