A Hospital in Another World?-Chapter 836: Sir, I Did Not Steal Bread

From the time the parliament and the Netherlands' envoys reached an agreement to the envoy's return for confirmation and the execution of the agreement, a long period passed.

The situation in the Netherlands slowly fermented until the spark ignited a prairie fire, which also required a long time.

However, the disaster still came according to its predetermined pace, irresistibly and overwhelmingly.

Lynn wrapped his fur cloak tightly around him as he walked silently by the creek. The wind and snow stretched endlessly, covering his entire vision with a vast expanse of white, leaving only the vague outline of the creek bank discernible.

Through the wind and snow, from his feet to the creekside and then to the distant lake surface, the whole world was a scene of pure white snow.

Lynn sighed, listened carefully to the wind for a while, and then continued forward. As he walked, a sudden "crack" echoed under his feet, the clear sound of breaking ice.

He had no time to retreat;his foot broke through the ice and stepped into the creek. The icy water flooded his boot, making him shiver uncontrollably.

This was June.

This was June!!!

Although Garrett had warned that the climate this year would be abnormal, with June possibly being unusually cold, and even frosts and snowstorms might occur, it was still hard to believe without seeing it firsthand.

He bent down and gently patted his boot. A mage trick skillfully swept away the creek water from inside his boot. He thought about it but still decided not to cast the [Cold and Heat Resistance] spell on himself.

Even as a Level 7 Mage, his long adventuring life had taught him not to waste any spells, even Level 1 spells, because one might never know when a Level 1 spell could save a life.

Moreover, the presence of [Cold and Heat Resistance] would dull his sensitivity to environmental changes, slowing his reaction speed. In the wilderness, in unsafe places, this could be fatal.

"Boss, let me lead the way," a small head peeked out from the fur cloak's collar. It sniffed the air, leaped down, and its form expanded and stretched, transforming from a palm-sized kitten into a leopard.

Not the usual black panther at home, nor an enlarged version of the black cat with a white scarf and white paws, but a snow leopard with grayish-white fur and black spots. Its fluffy tail swept the soft snow aside with each movement.

"In such heavy snow, of course, the great Mr. Troka should lead the way."

The snow leopard rolled on its back, got up, and shook itself vigorously. Snow exploded in all directions from its body, and if Lynn hadn't stepped back quickly, he would have been covered in snowflakes.

"Give me a break! If you can walk here, I can still sink in with one step!"

Lynn grumbled. Mr. Troka pranced ahead, his large paws treading on the snow without slipping, his tail swishing and thumping the snow:

"Boss, what are you talking about! That was just a mistake! An accident! Boss, look, if my tail can pass through, the unbroken ice is safe for you!"

Lynn sighed and silently followed him into the snowstorm. After a few miles, at a creek bend under a cliff, a group of wild cattle huddled together, protecting the cows and calves in their midst.

The bulls lowered their heads, desperately pawing at the snow to nibble on the grass beneath. The snow had been dug into a large pit, but little grass was visible.

The younger bulls behind them were emaciated, their ribs clearly defined, and their manes dull and tangled.

Lynn closed his eyes slightly, then opened them again. Even without using magic, his innate sensitivity as a Level 7 Necromancer clearly told him:

These wild cattle were close to death.

"Alas..."

He sighed lightly. He was not afraid of hunger. Before departing for the New World, Garrett had obsessively stuffed a space bag capable of holding 1000 pounds with 600 pounds of food:

Freshly slaughtered beef, intensely dried in the barbarian way into tough jerky;

Milk dried in high-speed hot air into powder, packed into glass jars stacked like small mountains;

Fat combined with salt, sauce, vinegar, pepper, chili, and various seasonings, boiled into brick-like blocks, then cut into small pieces and carefully wrapped;

White sugar cubes, which could quickly replenish energy when placed in the mouth, with Garrett fearing it was not enough, added several large bags of glucose powder;

Instantly freeze-dried vegetable packs, one pound per pack, stuffed fifty packs. And if that wasn't enough, two large bottles of sodium ascorbate for treating [Sea Plague]...

With these reserves, even if he fell into an absolute dead-end, he could survive for half a year.

Moreover, he wasn't disabled or unable to cast spells, nor had he lost Mr. Troka and the Golden Skeleton. Hunting, gathering, buying, or trading with local natives, a Level 7 caster could easily find food.

So far, he hadn't touched any of these reserves!

But he could survive;could these natives?

From what Lynn had seen, the area occupied by the parliament in the New World was only about a hundred or two hundred miles inland from the coastline. Further inland, along the rivers and lakes, the influence extended about three to five hundred miles to the indigenous inhabitants.

Beyond that, on the vast land, these natives, these creatures...

Cold and death permeated the land. As a Necromancer, his spirituality surged and soared, almost rejoicing. The richer the deathly atmosphere, the faster a Necromancer advanced.

But, but...

Such suffering, such sorrow, was truly unbearable to watch!

Lynn felt his heart growing softer. Especially after staying with Garrett for so long, watching him tirelessly study ways to heal and save lives in his Mage Tower.

Over time, it seemed that the death of a "person" had become an unbearable sorrow.

Lynn tightened his cloak, identified the direction, and continued heading south. As he walked, faint beast roars came from the snowstorm ahead. Before Lynn could react, Mr. Troka leaped in front of him:

"Boss, be careful! Ahead there are—"

Wolves.

There were packs of wolves, bears, and leopards hunting a sizable herd of wild cattle. Lynn squinted and casually cast a detection spell:

Among the beast herd, an unprecedented, intense magical glow shone.

Not just magical beasts, this was—

A Nature Spirit!

A Nature Spirit was personally leading the carnivorous magical beasts in this area to hunt!

"Go!" He summoned a Phantom Steed and mounted it. With a flick of his fingers, he cast every acceleration and protection spell he could think of on himself and the Phantom Steed:

"Mr. Troka! Get on! We're leaving immediately! Head south, to warmer places!"

Though the south wasn't necessarily safe either. After a disaster, there would be a great plague. Moreover, further south, the areas bordered the territories occupied by the Radiant Church, with occasional small-scale conflicts. But as a Necromancer, perhaps he could do something...

"Head south! Head to warmer places!"

On the Great Wasteland, Elder Rana's face was ashen. Like Elder Brock, they had received advance notice from the Magic Council, but their region, compared to the [White Eagle] Brock's tribe, was closer to the east—

Which meant less interaction and mutual understanding with the parliament, and more distrust of their messages.

While the White Eagle tribe and dozens of surrounding tribes heeded the advice and hoarded grain with all their might, their precious wealth was still being squandered on spirits, jewelry, gold cups, silver plates, and even light, dazzling silk.

This led to the situation where, as the white blizzard swept everything and the thick ice refused to melt, his tribe and many surrounding tribes were already running out of food.

The dozens of tribes participating in Akura sent representatives to him, and the result of their deliberation was—

"Head south! We'll head south! As we always did, to warmer places, to rob, to kill! Let those cowardly southerners hand over food, livestock, and wine! Winter in their thick, sturdy houses!"

War beasts roared.

The barbarians tore off their heavy cloaks, baring their chests, howling into the north wind.

Robust women pinned down rams, slit their throats with stone knives, filling stone bowls with gushing blood. They lit dried moss and cow dung, cooked mutton in clean water, and fed the warriors to prepare them for the long journey.

Children ran around in the large house, waiting to pick up leftover bones...

Groups of warriors, tribes gathered, marching south with spears and great axes, seeking a lifeline for their tribe. Whether they could rob enough food?

Would they encounter fierce resistance?

Would the south, stricken by disaster, have enough food for them to rob?

Most barbarians didn't know, even Elder Rana who made the decision didn't know. The Elder Council and the warriors only knew from experience:

"No matter how bad the disaster, the south is always better off than us! Head south! Head south! If we can rob, we live!"

If they couldn't rob enough, then after enough people died, the remaining food would naturally be enough for the survivors.

On the vast Great Wasteland, the barbarians surged south like an iron flood. Meanwhile, to the east of the Netherlands, Earl of Askan, [White Wolf] William bent down and picked up a hailstone, gripping it tightly:

"...Hey!"

Spring had come late this year, summer was cold, and the grain harvest was extremely poor. The few crops that had

struggled to grow were now being hammered by hailstones!

Ice shards scattered from his fingers, flying in all directions. The aged Level 15 Sky Knight's thick white eyebrows knotted as he gazed at the vast fields of flattened wheat, deeply worried:

"We are this cold;the north, the north... those barbarians..."

Every time there was a disaster, they rowed over in small boats, swarming to shore! They robbed food, livestock, women, children, anything they could carry!

The Askan family, as frontier earls, had defended against barbarians for generations. He was nearly a hundred years old, having witnessed countless small skirmishes and large-scale invasions over ninety years!

"Send the orders." Earl Askan's face was heavy, colder than the hail, greener than the flattened wheat fields:

"Recheck the coastal watchtowers, lighthouses, and beacon fires, ensuring all are fully prepared. Make sure any approach by the barbarians is detected;

"Harvest the crops, gather even the flattened wheat and corn for feed as quickly as possible;

"Clear the fields and retreat the populace into the castle;

"Increase cavalry patrols, ready to intercept and eliminate any threat..."

He issued commands one by one, each promptly recorded and transmitted. The sound of hooves echoed as the orders were swiftly delivered, and soon, half the entourage had departed.

Earl Askan sighed deeply, turning halfway to mount his horse, only to see his grandnephew, [Great Bear] Albert's grandson Otto, standing straight behind him, hesitant. Earl Askan paused:

"What's wrong? Is there a problem?"

"No, sir! Well, yes, there is a problem, sir!"

"What is it?"

"The holy water that was supposed to be allocated to us in the first half of the year, there's still thirty percent that hasn't been delivered!"

Otto stood at attention, feet together, nervously reporting. He was just a Level 5 Knight, facing the pillar of the family, the Level 15 Sky Knight, feeling immense pressure.

Moreover, as a distant branch of the family, his only hope for independence was to earn military merit and obtain a fief on the frontier. To achieve this, gaining the family head's favor was the most convenient route.

The black-haired young man's face reddened, the fine hair on his upper lip seeming to redden with him. Earl Askan chuckled at the sight:

"What do you think?"

"I think we should send more envoys to urge the Church, especially the local churches. Maybe we should also organize more public prayers? Didn't they say that sincere faith would bring more blessings from the Radiant Lord?"

The old knight slowly shook his head. He straightened his back, gazing far south as if looking at the sacred city bathed in light, never falling into darkness. After a moment, he waved his hand:

"Dismissed."

Otto bowed slightly and retreated. The old knight stared at the distant mountains for a while, then stamped his foot, slowly taking off under the awed gazes below.

A Level 15 Sky Knight was named "Sky" because, at this level, they generally possessed the ability to fly. Surrounded by an invisible aura, he overlooked the shimmering hail below and the glittering river in the distance, his voice resounding:

"We, people of the frontier, have steel in our bones and fire in our veins. We face all hardships and dangers ourselves! By holding this principle, we have stood firm at the frontier, generation after generation, year after year!"

"White Wolf! White Wolf! White Wolf!"

Below, the accompanying warriors raised their weapons, their shouts thundering.

Regardless of the decisions made by leaders, lords, or anyone else, the poorest people always suffered the most when disaster struck.

Even Garrett, who was holed up in the hospital conducting research, felt this:

In April, the poor pregnant women coming to Oak Grove Hospital had barely acceptable faces, nutritional status, and hemoglobin levels;

By May, these bottom-rung women were mostly emaciated, barely able to stand against the wind. Moreover, the hemoglobin qualification rate of blood donors had plummeted from seventy percent to less than fifty percent;

By June, the nutritional status of the poorest pregnant women had dropped to an extremely low level. The percentage of normal lactation within 72 hours postpartum had plummeted from eighty percent to less than fifty percent!

Garrett had to extend the hospital stay from three to seven days to increase their nutrition. The cost of this was doubling the number of beds, adding beds even in the corridors...

It couldn't be helped. They couldn't let the mothers starve to death right outside the hospital, with their babies dying in their arms.

Aside from the poor pregnant women, even the nurses working at the hospital were gradually getting worse. One day, as Garrett walked from the obstetrics building to the training ground after a surgery, he heard a distant commotion.

Someone was scolding, someone pleading, others watching, murmuring. The woman's voice was sharp and high-pitched, much higher than the man's. Garrett walked over, hearing the curses and quarrels more clearly:

"Thief, scoundrel! Wretch! Whore! Shameless creature!"

"You are shameless! You shrew—"

Curses, quarrels, murmurs, and even the sound of hair-pulling and slapping mixed into a cacophony. Garrett frowned slightly, walking closer, raising his voice:

"What's going on?"

Didn't they know the hospital needed to be quiet?

He swallowed the words, refraining from scolding. As a mage and hospital director, he had nearly unlimited authority over these nurses and laundry women, a single word could expel anyone.

The more power he had, the more restrained he needed to be—

So he just asked, casting his gaze at little Jenny, who had hurried over and squeezed through the crowd.

Little Jenny, now thirteen or fourteen, had been a head nurse for several years, gradually developing her own authority. She should be able to handle this situation, right?

Clearly, little Jenny didn't disappoint him. Standing at the center of the crowd, she gave a sweeping glance, causing all the nurses to lower their heads and step back, revealing the two quarrelling women.

Little Jenny glanced at them, her gaze falling on the collar and the ground around one of them, immediately asking:

"Maria, did you steal bread again?"

"I did not!" The laundry woman instinctively pressed her hand on her coat front. More crumbs fell from her collar, and she instinctively bent down, covering her abdomen with her right arm to block the crumbs:

"I did not! This is my own lunch! I just wanted to take it back for the children... The price of bread is rising, the children are hungry..."