A Hospital in Another World?

Garrett received a summons within half an hour.

Magic research was common, but apprenticeships were not. In a mage tower, only a handful of apprentices were trained each year. If luck wasn't on your side, you might go years without success.

Mage Gellman, stuck in his research, was glad for the chance to meet the new apprentice Garrett. At least it offered a change of pace.

After confirmation, Garrett's status was immediately elevated to that of an apprentice.

- A new set of magical robes.

- A single room within the mage tower.

- Paper, ink, candles, and all necessary personal items.

Even the servant guarding the gate, with a worried expression, held five silver coins, wanting to return them to Garrett. The reason being that a mage's mount could be stored in the tower, so there was no need for payment...

Though he didn't take the money, Garrett remained in good spirits throughout. As he entered the city, returned the horse at the military camp, and made his way back home, people kept greeting him:

"Garrett, that robe... Are you a mage now?"

"Congratulations, Garrett!"

Garrett happily responded along the way. By this time, the sky had darkened, and the cottages along the road were starting to light up with scattered stars.

Arriving at his doorstep, just about to pull out his keys, someone dashed out from a side alley. Their shoulders collided, causing Garrett to step back with an "Ouch."

The person who dashed at him also exclaimed, "Ouch." He stumbled back more, almost tripping. Then, with a glare and a raised dark fist:

"You—"

Suddenly, he froze, gazing fixedly at the staff emblem on Garrett's robe's cuff. Without a word, he turned and ran away.

Garrett silently looked at his cuff.

So, becoming an apprentice had its perks. Not bad at all.

Humming a tune, Garrett entered his house. The person who collided with him ran quite a distance away, only stopping at the tavern. A man, reeking of alcohol, was waiting by the back door and asked upon his arrival:

"How did it go? Did you get him?"

"You almost killed me! That kid, he's an apprentice mage!"

"An apprentice mage?" The man at the tavern was astonished. "Are you sure? He only went to the mage tower a few days ago!"

"How could I be mistaken? That kid was wearing a robe, with a staff embroidered on the cuff. I saw it clearly!"

The man at the tavern pondered. Meanwhile, the one who collided had extended his hand, fingers splayed out, pointing near his eyes:

"Money!"

"No business, yet asking for money? Come on!"

"You didn't mention he was an apprentice mage! If you ask for more money, I'll report to the city guard, saying you hired someone to murder!"

"You!"

The two began a scuffle. Garrett was oblivious to all this, first heading to the military camp to report his apprentice status and future residency at the mage tower. Then, he went to the Temple of the God of War to inquire about the progress in crafting surgical instruments.

...Still not finished. And it seemed it would take another ten days or so...

"It's going to take this—long—still?" Garrett sighed so deeply that it felt like his lungs might burst. "But I'm supposed to start staying at the mage tower from tomorrow..."

"Yeah, yeah, congratulations on your mage robes," the bald bishop chuckled:

"Since you're going to reside in the mage tower, let's practice the healing process you mentioned again!"

"No, I want to go home—"

"Tonight, you're staying at the temple! Tomorrow morning, I'll send a carriage to take you to the mage tower!"

Garrett's objections were in vain. The bald bishop extended his big hand, lifting him along with his mage robes, like grabbing a chick, and took him to the back hall.

Garrett was busy in the temple for the whole night. The next morning, when the Temple of War's carriage was sent to take him out of the city, he was completely asleep inside, not even willing to open his eyes for a moment.

And so, he didn't see two people not far from the city gates, pointing and speaking with grim faces towards the carriage.

He was also unaware that on that same night, a middle-aged woman entered the lord's mansion, tear-streaked face, wailing:

"Roman is also your son! The temple has put him in confinement, saying they can't help. A scoundrel like that harmed him, and you say you can't do anything! Are you still the lord of Hartland City? Do you still care about him in your heart?"

"Don't shout so loudly. It doesn't sound good if Roman's identity is yelled about." Lord Joanne, with drooping eye bags, slowly replied:

"That kid... he's become an apprentice mage."

"He's harmed Roman! My Roman! His hands are ruined!" The middle-aged woman grew more agitated, her once graceful face contorting with rage:

"You said he's a city guard, then you say the Temple of War values him, so I can't seek revenge. Dragging it out like this, and now he's an apprentice mage! I finally found someone to teach him a lesson, and they won't lay a finger on him!"

"You got someone to attack him?" Lord Joanne suddenly lifted his eyelids:

"Fool! Do you know why the city guard protects him? Why the Temple of War values him? He healed an injury the bishop couldn't! When you're a healer, you avoid making enemies if you can!"

"But my Roman..."

The woman cried bitterly. Lord Joanne sighed, patting her arm gently, soothing her softly:

"If it's for Roman, you shouldn't trouble that kid even more. Do you know what that kid has been doing lately? He's working on something, saying it can heal Barren's hand."

"Barren's hand?" The woman immediately stopped crying. Barron's skills with the bow and arrow were among the best in Hartland City, but he couldn't shoot properly after injuring his hand three years ago. "That scoundrel says he can heal it?"

"The Temple of War's information claims he can," Lord Joanne sighed:

"So, for now, endure a bit longer. Don't go after that kid. If Barren's hand can really be healed, I'll approach the Spring Temple and have them release Roman to treat his injury. Even if the temple is strict, they wouldn't deny treatment, right?"

The woman gradually stopped crying. But then, she became anxious:

"What if he refuses to treat him? Before, I mean..."

Recalling the conscriptions, dragging people to the temple, each thing added up to antagonizing someone. If that scoundrel held a grudge, refusing to help, what then?

That's why, why did you try to get someone to attack him...

Lord Joanne wanted to sigh again. However, the woman was his lover, and Roman, although a bastard, was still his. He was the only knight among his illegitimate children, usually quite amiable and cared for. He had to care for him at least a bit.

"It's okay, I'm here." He softly reassured:

"If Barren's hand can't be healed, then so be it. But if it can, I'll ask for help from the Temple of War. With the temple and the lord's mansion behind it, that kid wouldn't dare to refuse treatment."

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