A Hospital in Another World?

This content is taken from (f)reewe(b)novel.𝗰𝗼𝐦

Since this was a lecture, it couldn't just take place out in the field. Captain Leon raised his hand courteously, inviting the bald-headed bishop, who smiled in agreement, and they made their way towards the council chamber in the military camp.

The priests hurriedly followed suit. Garrett fell back a few steps, lingering behind, joining the young priest John. John leaned in immediately, speaking urgently in a hushed tone:

"I told the bishop!"

"About the knight?"

"Yeah!" The young priest nodded quickly. Garrett smiled, patting his shoulder:

"Thank you!"

The council chamber of the city guards wasn't huge but wasn't small either. A long table occupied the center, clearly made from a tree trunk split down the middle, rough-hewn and unpainted. A large map adorned the wall opposite the entrance, and it could seat about twenty people if they squeezed in.

The bald-headed bishop and the captain of the city guards entered first. Seven or eight priests flooded in, quickly filling half the room.

Garrett slipped in among the four squadron leaders naturally. Those in the rear, the lower-ranking officers and soldiers, tried to squeeze in as well. The last squadron leader gave a stern look and was about to close the door.

"Wait!"

Sir Flynn intervened. He glanced at Garrett, who was constantly looking back, and couldn't help but smile, waving to Captain Karen:

"Karen, come join us too!"

A minor commotion stirred among the crowd. Soldiers who hadn't received permission jostled, semi-jokingly complaining:

"Captain, that's not fair!"

"Captain, we want to listen too!"

"Captain, this could save lives!"

Captain Karen made her way forward amid her comrades' envy. Garrett looked left and right, seeing Raymond and the others far back in the crowd at the hall's entrance, unable to push through. He thought for a moment, then turned to the captain:

"Captain, what I'm about to share is beneficial for everyone, helping in times of injury to preserve lives as much as possible. Do you think, perhaps..."

He gestured outward:

"We could find a larger space?"

Of course, that had to be possible! The captain readily agreed, and the bald-headed bishop had no objections either. The group exited the council chamber, heading to the hall. Before they reached it, the tantalizing scent of hot food wafted from the direction of the hall.

Garrett's stomach betrayed him with a couple of grumbles.

...How could he forget? The largest room in the city guard's quarters was the hall, used for ceremonies but serving as a dining room otherwise...

The soldiers and priests settled down to listen in the hall, and Garrett confidently took the platform. With no blackboard or chalk, he improvised, gesturing on himself to explain:

"Our breathing uses our lungs. When our lungs work, it's like a bellows stoking a fire. Expanding it is inhaling, compressing is exhaling. If the lung gets damaged, sometimes it creates a one-way valve. Air gets in but can't get out during exhalation..."

He explained as simply as possible how tension pneumothorax occurs and how to manage it during emergencies. Before the bald-headed bishop could pose more questions, he hastened and picked up pace: 𝔣𝖗𝔢𝖊𝔴𝖊𝔟𝔫𝔬𝖛𝔢𝖑.𝔠𝔬𝔪

"On the battlefield, there are many reasons for death. But, apart from immediate fatalities, many happen due to severe injuries that weren't promptly treated by a priest. Now, let me talk about how to administer emergency aid for different types of injuries."

The spirits of the soldiers lifted!

The junior officers and ordinary soldiers were especially excited. The captain and squadron leaders, being noble knights, usually found it easier to receive treatment on the battlefield. But for them, as commoners, it wasn't the same. Sometimes, a scratch on a noble's hand was deemed more important than their severed limbs...

They could have survived! Some comrades, if given timely treatment, could have survived!

"Young Garrett is impressive!"

Beside Captain Karen, a junior officer nudged his arm, whispering.

"Like his father," another junior officer added.

"Yes, the captain back then was just like this, always finding ways to take care of us..."

A group of middle-aged men murmured quietly, gazing at Garrett with appreciation and nostalgia. Garrett nodded to them, continuing without pause:

"There are many reasons for death on the battlefield, but mainly, they fall into three categories. First, excessive bleeding; second, cardiac arrest; third, inability to breathe. Let's first discuss how to swiftly stop bleeding on the battlefield..."

The hall buzzed with excitement.

Cardiac arrest and inability to breathe were, in the soldiers' eyes, mostly classified as fatal injuriesor could generally be considered already dead. If such situations arose, most people's first reaction would be to give up.

Except for bleeding. How many people watched helplessly as their comrades bled out, unable to stop it? The more they tried to staunch the flow, the weaker and more powerless they became, until they closed their eyes forever...

Young Garrett was going to talk about how to stop bleeding?

Fantastic!

"Wait!"

Suddenly, two or three voices shouted simultaneously. Everyone looked towards a couple of squadron leaders sitting in the second row, two of them urgently jumping up:

"Young Garrett, slow down a bit! We want to jot it down with pen and paper!"

The hall fell silent for a moment, then erupted into laughter.

Even Garrett couldn't help but chuckle. He gestured to Sir Flynn, who had stood up, trying to hold back his laughter:

"Uncle Flynn, could you get a couple of large papers and a board for me? What I'm about to explain needs some diagrams to be clearer"

He drew diagrams with his hands, explaining verbally, occasionally asking someone to come up and demonstrate bandaging techniques. Everyone was engrossed. As dinner time approached, bread and cured meat were brought in from the kitchen, and they paired it with vegetable soup for a meal, continuing the lecture.

Just as he finished discussing ways to stop bleeding from the head and arms, a distant commotion arose. It grew louder and closer.

Garrett glanced up at the hall's entrance, and simultaneously, several knights stood up, gripping their swords.

"Who?!"

"Who goes there?!"

"Captain, captain, captain!"

Footsteps echoed relentlessly. A city guard soldier rushed in recklessly, propping himself against the door, panting heavily:

"Captain, the Lord's Mansion is here to arrest someone!"

"What?!"

"What's happening?!"

"The Lord's Mansion is arresting people, why are they coming for the city guard?!"

The hall erupted into a cacophony of discussion. Over a hundred city guard soldiers exchanged whispers, shocked, angry, or bewildered. Someone even blurted out in confusion:

"Don't we usually do the arrests around here?"

Huff...

Garrett stood steady on the podium. At this moment, with the Lord's Mansion coming to arrest someone, he could guess roughly why, and indeed

The doors burst open. A well-dressed messenger accompanied by two guards strode arrogantly into the hall.

"On the order of the temple, Garrett Nordmark is summoned to answer questions"

I hope that helps!

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