Chapter 72
With two big shots around, Garrett Nordmark wouldn't come to harm. As he tumbled down, Elder Elwin Wilkinson didn't even glance his way but quietly extended a vine from his foot. It wound around Garrett's waist, lifting him high and gently placing him down.
Garrett sat on the ground, drenched in sweat, rubbing his knees and panting, feeling lucky: Having big shots as teachers is great!
Finally shifting the blame, Garrett rested on the ground for half a minute before limping to survey other wards. Elder Elwin and the bald Archbishop were busy while Lord Joane, the city master, was leisurely chatting away in his carriage.
Accompanying him was an aged mage, the one who sat beside Mage Gelman earlier. The old mage glanced left and right and suddenly exclaimed, "That hawk?"
A hawk incessantly circled above the shop. Its cries echoed, the red cloth on its talons fluttering like a flag. Lord Joane gazed up and exclaimed right there.
As a city lord, revelry and dalliances were fine, a few mistresses didn't matter much, even if his martial prowess didn't measure up. But one thing had to be remembered: What extraordinary organizations existed in the city, how strong they were, and what their distinctive traits were when they acted!
"Animal companion..." Lord Joane murmured, "This... This is a distress signal from the Radiant Church!"
Sending out an animal companion for help... How bad was the situation over there?
Lord Joane gripped the window frame tightly. The carriage moved on, and soon, reports from the North Main Street streamed in waves:
"17 injured!"
"29 injured! All transferred to nearby shops, no deaths for now!"
"10 severely injured, 19 lightly injured! Five are unconscious!"
This is troublesome... Lord Joane frowned deeply. Meanwhile, the nobles in the convoy, with each new piece of information, grew increasingly agitated:
"Oh no, my niece was on North Main Street!"
"My grandson said he was going out to play today!"
"My mother-in-law was taking my little sister-in-law out shopping, could they have run into this?"
"Baroness Lona! My son is injured!"
"Franz! Hurry to North Main Street, find that young priest—what was his name?—and tell him to treat my nephew first! If he heals him well, he'll be rewarded; if not, I'll break his legs!"
The convoy sped up and surged forward. The crowds surged too, making it difficult to navigate through the city celebrating the midsummer festival. Knight Nolan led the way, clearing the crowds, while two squad leaders shouted incessantly:
"Make way! Make way for the City Lord!"
"If they don't move, whip them!" shouted a knight guard beside Lord Joane's carriage. Knight Nolan glanced over but said nothing; the two squad leaders didn't crack their whips either, just kept shouting:
"Move aside! Quickly, move aside!"
Joking aside, young Garrett was already overwhelmed with work; adding a bunch of whip wounds wouldn't let him live!
The convoy raced and jolted, splattering mud and unknown substances from under the wheels, finally arriving at the shop's entrance. Agile guards dismounted, rushing to assist Lord Joane out of the carriage. Once the city lord stood firm and turned around, he immediately grabbed someone to inquire, "What's the situation? How many casualties?"
"Reporting to the City Lord!" At the shop entrance, the city guards maintaining order stood upright, sounding infinitely proud, "Up until now, no one has died!"
"Thank goodness, thank goodness..." Lord Joane immediately relaxed. He hurried into the shop, where Elder Elwin and the bald Archbishop were each chanting healing spells. He approached them, expressing gratitude repeatedly, "Thank you both! It's all thanks to you two that these commoners' lives were saved!"
Elder Elwin nodded in acknowledgment without speaking. The bald Archbishop chuckled, "It's not our doing. When we arrived, young Garrett had already organized everything. Young Garrett!"
"Here!"
A person rushed over from the red zone. Lord Joane squinted and saw a sixteen or seventeen-year-old youth. His linen shirt was soaked, blood stains adorned various places on his sleeves. Wet black hair clung to his forehead, sweat trickling down his cheeks.
- He's just an ordinary lad from a common family. But if the Archbishop of the War God's Temple would mentor him, he couldn't be overlooked.
Thinking so, Lord Joane solemnly nodded, complimenting the youth's eyes, "You're Garrett Nordmark? Well done!"
Originally, there would have been a handshake, a pat on the shoulder, and then a reward, but seeing the lad in this state, let's skip to the third step.
Lord Joane reached for his purse. Suddenly, the Grand Priestess of the Spring Goddess, who had entered with him, interjected in surprise, "Him? But isn't he a mage?"
A mage? Wasn't he a healer? Lord Joane paused. He had heard about Garrett Nordmark before; the bald Archbishop had spoken for him regarding healing Roman Knight's wrist. But what was this about being a mage? Had there been a mistake?
Lord Joane turned to look back. Just as he was about to inquire of the Grand Priestess, the old mage who had traveled with him staggered into the shop. Glancing around, he was immediately taken aback:
"Oh, a real mage indeed!"
To the old mage's eyes, the injured were marked with red, yellow, green, and black, clear signs of magical intervention. A city guard stood by the door holding a signboard with rows of large characters in red, yellow, green, and black, unmistakably written with magic:
"Level 3 and 4 priests to the red zone!
Level 1 and 2 priests to the yellow zone!
Priest apprentices to the green zone, clean wounds, stop bleeding and bandage!
Please adhere to the arrangement, treat according to the markings, that's the way to save the most lives!"
Quite interesting!
The old mage couldn't help but laugh. Categorizing the patients with priestly methods and then marking them with magical tricks, the apprentice in charge was an interesting kid...
"A real mage?" Lord Joane furrowed his brow. The old mage grinned and nodded, "Yes, indeed, a real mage, a new apprentice of the Mage Tower..."
A mage can also oversee healing?
And command a group of healers?
Didn't the bald Archbishop give him credit?
Lord Joane hesitated, uncertain whether to question it. The Grand Priestess had already spoken, "Are you saying Garrett did all this?—He's just a mage's apprentice!"
In a few short sentences, the nobles had disembarked one after another, crowding outside the shop. The shop was narrow, reeking of blood, deterring most from entering, only peeking heads remained outside. Upon hearing the Grand Priestess's words, they whispered amongst themselves:
"Mage's apprentice?"
"A mage's apprentice doing a priest's job?"
"Can it be real?"
"Didn't the Archbishop say this apprentice was in charge?"
"Oh, the temperament of the Archbishop, you all know..."
"A mage doubling as a healer? Who
would believe it? The temple must be mad..."
"Yeah, teaching knowledge and fostering faith, it's been so hard all these years! Teaching someone and then they leave for another place, which temple would agree!"
The discussions grew louder, and Lord Joane's suspicion deepened. His hand that held the purse withdrew:
A few coins didn't matter, but rewarding the wrong person would be embarrassing. What's going on with this lad? An apprentice causing so much trouble!
"Are you truly a mage's apprentice? Or a healer?" Lord Joane asked with a furrowed brow. Garrett was about to respond when Elder Elwin finished casting a healing spell and interjected with a smile:
"Yes, indeed, Garrett here is my disciple!"
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