A Hospital in Another World?

Chapter 529: Another Day Dedicated to War

On the "Sperm Whale," with its passengers aboard, it sails through the waves, making a large circle on the sea. Besides demonstrating its combat capabilities, it also showcased other abilities:

"Large marine creature approaching fast! At three o’clock, within a distance of... less than 5 kilometers!"

Inside the captain’s quarters, a long, thin copper tube, flaring at both ends, connects directly to the deck below the third level. At the very front of the deck, a mage sits attentively, staring at a light screen that’s five feet wide and three feet tall, continuously reporting:

"At five o’clock, marine creatures are approaching rapidly! Medium size, more than 20 in number, power level... preliminarily estimated as level 4, leader at level 5! Expected to make contact in 30 minutes!"

"Twelve o’clock..."

The mage’s voice travels through the copper tube to the captain’s quarters, and from there, via other tubes, orders are conveyed to all compartments. The riggers, gunnery chiefs, and combat leaders each perform their duties, and in half an hour, they accurately meet the incoming marine creatures.

On the "Sperm Whale," 108 cannons fire at full force, turning the seawater a bright red.

"...So are we going to fight our way back?"

After two consecutive battles, the dwarven elder couldn’t help but express his doubts. The barbarian elder, Brock, nods:

The logic is simple—in a barren land like the great wasteland, if you take too much from nature in the first year, you will definitely go hungry the next!

"Ah, please, everyone, don’t rush," Knight Delock gestures with a smile. Around the third-level gun deck, one window after another opens, and sailors are seen lowering some alchemical equipment along the deck:

"As you all can see, ’Pharbetti’s Curse,’ this alchemical potion, can lure marine creatures to attack the contaminated battleship, greatly weakening its combat strength. The downside is, this potion does not differentiate between friend and foe—but now, we have a method to quickly neutralize this potion!"

The VIPs quiet down. An important part of the earlier discussion about attacking the Radiant Church’s fleet involved using ’Pharbetti’s Curse’ to contaminate enemy ships, reducing their combat effectiveness. Only when weakened sufficiently could a full assault be launched—

But this thing doesn’t differentiate between friend and foe! By then, if every ship is contaminated, can anyone even return?

Now demonstrated is the process of quickly neutralizing the potion. The battleship continues to sail away, and from morning till noon, from noon till evening, the gathering sea beasts become fewer and fewer.

Under everyone’s watch, in less than two days and nights, the effect of ’Pharbetti’s Curse’ has completely disappeared.

"It looks pretty good..."

"The effect is really strong!"

"With this, the feasibility has increased again..."

The big shots verified the council’s method’s effectiveness and then went back inside the VIP cabin, burying themselves in discussion.

Lower-ranked guests who aren’t privy to the battle plans scurry all over the ship, carrying fishing rods, pinching fishing reels, casting nets, all sorts of ideas to amuse themselves.

As for Garrett...

"Don’t rush, don’t rush! Line up, one at a time! Name, age, combat level, occupation—"

In front of him, a rack of test tubes is arranged. ’Mage’s Trick’ shaping, a 5x4 rack, instantly setting up four. Clearly, today’s task is to collect 80 samples.

To his left, a glass box contains sterilized needles, each individually sealed; to his right, a sharps box, storing used needles. Seraina sits to his left, furiously writing labels, sticking one on each test tube, and passing them to Garrett—

The entire process is conducted like a blood collection station at a medical center.

In fact, it is blood collection. Off-duty sailors form a long line, rolling up their sleeves to expose their elbows. Crowding together, they whisper:

"Is this really useful?"

"It really is! Didn’t you see the other day? Knight Entley’s severe injury, after a few bottles of blood transfusion, he recovered!"

"Yeah! If we get injured ourselves, and the bishop can’t heal us, we’ll have to rely on ourselves! Knowing our blood type might just save our life!"

"But... will they force us to give blood to the knight?"

"Hey! The sailors who donated blood that day each received a gold coin, a gold coin! A gold coin for that much blood, wouldn’t you agree?"

"But what if you don’t get the money?"

"

Are you stupid? What’s more important, life or money? Not just anyone’s blood can be transfused, if your blood type matches that of an officer, even if it’s to help him with a transfusion, in a pinch, won’t he pull you out of trouble?"

"Besides, if the knight recovers quickly, someone can hold the line in a big battle, and we can all survive a bit longer. Mutual blood transfusion is good for everyone!"

Garrett lets these discussions float past his ears, focusing single-mindedly on his task. He takes a labeled test tube, looks up to ask the name, checks it. Then, he picks up a needle, connects it to a vine, letting the other end stretch into the test tube, and passes it to the right:

On the right, Bishop Ampton nervously takes over, beginning his task.

Tying off a tourniquet, making the blood donor clench their fist. An alcohol swab cleans the skin, a fingertip presses to locate a vein, and the needle goes in—

"Ouch, ouch, that hurts! Be gentle! Look, no blood’s coming out in the tube! You stuck it wrong again!"

"Sorry, I’ll try again..."

Bishop Ampton apologetically smiles, casts a minor healing spell on the punctured site, and continues his work. Garrett, standing by, occasionally gives a few tips:

"Watch the angle of entry! Make it 30 degrees with the skin!"

"After sticking it in, lay the needle flat, at a 5° angle forward, enter the vein!"

"Once you’re sure it’s in the vein, push a little bit along the vein direction! Less than half a finger joint!"

"Ah, you’ve pierced through! Retract the needle! Try a different spot!"

If Garrett himself were to do it, he’d have finished with three people by now. But what can be done, he can’t always stay on the ship, in the future, for transfusions and such, the crew must do it themselves.

Better to teach the bishop first, then let him gradually instruct the assistants...

5 milliliters of fresh blood flow into the test tube, remove the needle, press a cotton ball in place. Garrett takes the test tube, drops in an anti-coagulation spell, inserts it into the test tube rack, next!

Every day, collect 80 samples, perform 80 blood type tests, produce 80 results. Write them on a strip, give each sailor their own to keep safe. Create a record book, hand it over to Bishop Ampton, and when it’s time for transfusions, they can call people by the book...

Hmm, after the big battle, the battleship’s chances of quickly regaining combat capability have increased by another point. Feels pretty great!

Of course, verifying blood types and such doesn’t actually need 5 milliliters of fresh blood. The rest, Garrett confidently keeps for himself, experimenting with the ’Bloodline Discernment’ spell, drawing images, letting little snakes taste...

Today is still a day for accumulating samples.

Still a day with no progress in blood magic.

Still a day of persistent effort!

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