A Hospital in Another World?

Chapter 362: A Death Cry - Call for a Priest

Hearing the call for a sermon and Holy Communion?

Garrett stopped in his tracks, involuntarily turning towards the source of the shout. Bernard called out from behind:

"Boss—"

What’s gotten into you?

What’s so interesting about the Radiant Lord?

Haven’t you forgotten you’ve killed several of their people?

Are you that hungry? When we dine together, just a couple of slices from my lamb leg are enough for you!

"Ah, I’m just looking, from a distance," Garrett waved his hand nonchalantly. Don’t ask; it’s just that their marketing tactic is too familiar, and he wanted to check it out. And, to see if their so-called Holy Communion was just stale bread and wine.

Garrett Nordmark, ever curious yet well-informed, true to his word, stopped about ten meters away from the preaching crowd. At this distance, he could hear the preacher’s words clearly:

"In ancient times, floods, droughts, and snowstorms were frequent, plagues rampant, and magical beasts and monsters roamed the wilderness. The Radiant Lord, in his mercy, spoke to his people..."

Boring.

This story isn’t interesting at all.

If you’re going to preach about the Radiant Lord in dwarf territory, at least tell a good story!

Garrett, who had been bombarded with movies and animations in his previous life, shook his head and decided to give them another minute of his patience. If the Holy Communion didn’t appear by then, he’d leave. However, before the Holy Communion could be presented, a roar shook the entire venue:

"You’re talking nonsense!"

Then, it was chaos. When Garrett came to his senses, a burly man had already charged onto the stage, grabbing the preacher and punching him while cursing:

"Charity my ass! Benevolence my ass! You bastards killed my entire family when I was a child! Took me as a slave! I’ve endured countless lashes from you! @#￥%*&..."

What followed was a series of furious roars, too explicit for the "Comprehend Languages" spell to translate. The preacher, dressed in a black robe and white scarf, was knocked down with the first punch, blood splattered with the second, and by the third and fourth punches, the effect was...

The only scene that came to Garrett’s mind was from a textbook:

"Judge Bao punches the western frontier’s bully."

The other members of the Radiant Church couldn’t just stand by. Two knights who had just carried a few baskets of Holy Communion saw the commotion, dropped the baskets, and charged in anger. The burly man let go of the preacher, turned around, and engaged them in a fierce fight, with punches and kicks whistling through the air.

In Garrett’s previous life, such a scene during a sermon (or receiving Holy Communion) would have caused screams and panic, with half of the crowd fleeing. But dwarves, being rich in martial spirit, and barbarians, even more so, didn’t flee. Instead, they tightened their ranks, forming a large circle around the fight, eagerly watching:

"That punch was solid!"

"What a man!"

"Hey—hey! Fight if you must, but no knives!"

Fortunately, half of the crowd were barbarians, not obstructing Garrett’s view. He instinctively moved closer to Bernard, looking around:

"Is this really happening? Doesn’t anyone care?"

"Personal grudges? Who cares?" Gavin shrugged, although his dwarven shoulders could hardly reach Garrett’s elbow:

"The fighter is a barbarian, and the beaten one belongs to the Radiant Church, not an envoy. Just wait; once they’re almost done, the patrol will come to end it."

He pointed in the direction they came from. Garrett turned to see a group of dwarf knights—shining in armor, riding robust goats—watching from a distance. Relieved, Garrett continued to watch the fight:

"An orc?"

He hadn’t had a chance to see clearly!

Upon closer inspection, the one fiercely fighting in the middle was indeed an orc. With hair seven parts black, three parts white, fluttering about, erect ears, and a protruding snout, distinctly different from humans. Garrett was observing these details when he saw the orc take a punch straight to the cheek, blood streaming from the mouth corner.

"If that’s dislocated, it won’t be easy to fix..." Garrett murmured. He had no idea about orc anatomy. Even if he did, he wasn’t a maxillofacial surgeon to just operate on someone.

The orc, fighting against two, didn’t seem to be at a disadvantage. Amidst the tumbling fight, a furry tail occasionally struck at the knights’ legs. When it hit, it left a bloody mark, immediately swelling.

"Tsks...tsks...tsks..."

Garrett

was impressed. Such skill was commendable; it seemed the Radiant Church would need more men to win.

Just then, a cloud of black mist exploded without warning. Two knights of the Radiant, one orc, and the preacher, now possibly lifeless on the ground, were all enveloped in the mist, followed by several screams.

"Ah—"

"Ah~...~...~..."

Garrett shuddered. Reflexively stepping forward, he immediately stopped. Bernard rushed forward, pulling his boss back, his large body protectively covering him.

The sound of hooves thundered, and dwarf knights charged in. Dwarves surrounded the area, shouting:

"A priest! Get a priest!"

"Call for a priest!"

Garrett peeked from behind Bernard. The black mist had dissipated, leaving the onlookers in a large circle, cries of shock overlapping:

"Dead!"

"They’re all dead!"

"So much blood!"

"They’re not dead yet; they’re still calling for a priest!"

Garrett nudged Bernard, pushing him forward. After several nudges, Bernard reluctantly led the way. When they finally made it through the crowd of barbarians, they saw blood everywhere, none of the fighters standing:

The preacher, his face a canvas of blood, unconscious. Garrett didn’t need to check to know the possibilities of concussion, intracranial hemorrhage, and more;

Two knights lay on the ground, one clutching his throat with blood seeping through his fingers, hissing sounds indicating a likely tracheal rupture needing stitches;

The other sprawled out, a gash on his neck spraying blood everywhere. One glance at the blood volume and spray pattern, and Garrett concluded:

Carotid artery rupture, beyond saving.

The orc, with a blade deeply embedded in his chest, was still conscious but unable to struggle, clearly in critical condition, hanging by a thread.

Garrett wanted to take a closer look but was suddenly pulled back behind Bernard. The next moment, a flurry of hurried footsteps approached, stopping right by the knights, followed by the sound of kneeling and fervent prayers.

Oh, so some of the Radiant knights got medical attention.

Garrett turned away coldly. He calmly stepped back, watching dwarf knights swarm in, separating the factions;

Saw two dwarf knights dismount their goats, trying to take the orc away, but blocked by Radiant knights in an angry standoff;

Watched a dozen orcs arrive, almost starting a fight, then both sides stepping back, leaving with their wounded;

Saw another dwarf knight urging his goat, shouting "Priest, priest" as he sped away...

Garrett quietly followed the orcs. Just as they turned a corner and rushed into a building, he called out:

"I am a priest!"

"Great! Come quickly!" Two orcs immediately made way. Garrett hurried inside, approaching the injured orc warrior, reaching out to check his pulse. Just as he kneeled, two heavy, urgent footsteps approached.

"How’s my brother? Master, please save my brother—"

"Coming, coming! Whoa, whoa, slow down..."

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