A Hospital in Another World?-Chapter 892: Garrett, Do You Want to See a Legendary Battle?

The Archbishop and other high-ranking clergy observed from high in the sky, silently studying. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝒆𝒘𝙚𝓫𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

In the field of expertise, if one were a mage, especially one who specialized in space-related conjuration magic, they could roughly estimate the destination of a portal, its scale, and the types of beings that could pass through based on the spatial fluctuations.

However, the servants of the Radiant Lord could only ascertain that this portal was immensely powerful. They surmised that several legendary mages could easily pass through it.

"What do you think?"

Archbishop Cassino inquired. The crowd fell silent before directing their collective gaze towards a black-clad bishop from the Inquisition.

This bishop was not a cleric, strictly speaking, but a mage. Although practicing magic within the Radiant Church's jurisdiction was punishable by death, exceptions existed within the church itself.

This black-clad bishop, trained from a young age by the Inquisition under the philosophy that "to defeat an enemy, one must understand the enemy," had a teacher who was a mage that fled from the Kent Kingdom and was taken in by the Inquisition.

The bishop's eyes glowed eerily as he stared at the hill, almost as if trying to bore a hole into it. He desperately wanted to rush into the mountain's core and study it closely.

As he observed and sensed, he subconsciously calculated, his right thumb tracing the pads of his fingers in sequence.

"To obtain more accurate information, we need to get closer."

"How close?"

"As close as possible," the black-clad bishop responded instinctively, leaning forward as if he might lose balance in mid-air:

"It would be best to land on that hill or even enter its core."

"That's out of the question," Archbishop Cassino immediately shook his head. Watching from high above was one thing, but landing on the ground would be another matter entirely. The Netherland Resistance was nearby, and the Ostend City garrison could launch an attack.

Long arrows, alchemical crossbows, expert-thrown javelins, and cannons—these could all pose a significant threat.

Even now, a few alchemical crossbows below had already targeted them, their operators waiting for the right moment to fire.

"Estimate from here," Archbishop Cassino commanded sternly.

"Based on your estimate, what kind of beings can pass through this spatial fluctuation?"

"It's hard to say, it’s still growing," the black-clad bishop shook his head:

"If it grows to its maximum, a few legendary beings could pass through."

Archbishop Cassino and the other archbishops collectively bowed their heads, instinctively tracing the holy emblem. Legends were legends, after all!

Legendary mages, priests, warriors—legends represented a fundamental leap in power, spirit, and even longevity compared to ordinary humans.

A common saying across the continent and among heretics was that the difference between a legend and a non-legend was like that between humans and ants.

If a legendary mage appeared, they would either have to retreat to a church and rely on its divine arrays and holy power or call for reinforcements. Preventing their arrival was crucial.

"Is there any way to interrupt this transmission?" Archbishop Cassino asked sternly.

The black-clad bishop thought for a moment, his face pained:

"A portal capable of transporting legends is far beyond my ability to disrupt. Without getting close, I can only suggest large-scale divine attacks... but..."

But the church’s divine spells were more effective against people than objects. Spells like Edict: Intimidation, Edict: Hold Person, and even Edict: Death could hit their mark with devastating precision. However, trying to dismantle a portal with them was another matter.

"Let's try."

Archbishop Cassino slightly ascended and began praying. The other archbishops exchanged glances and followed suit, their bodies glowing with white light that soon shot downwards.

"They're attacking."

"They’re attempting an attack."

In the Netherland Resistance camp, two mages watched through telescopes, then exchanged knowing smiles:

"The attack is ineffective."

"Of course, this hill was specially chosen, and the rocks beneath it... cough..."

"And the defenses in that cave!"

"It won't be easy for them. Will they use a grand spell?"

"Should we add some fuel to the fire?"

"No need. That thing down there can grow on its own..."

"Speaking of which, haha..."

They exchanged knowing glances and laughed. Meanwhile, in the sky, Archbishop Cassino and the others, finding their attacks ineffective, returned after half an hour:

"Scan the area with a grand divine array and look for any significant energy fluctuations;

Patrol beyond the strait's centerline to detect dense energy reactions and personnel concentrations;

Prepare all churches for the possibility of a full-scale prayer ceremony."

If necessary, they would use the Divine Descent Spell to eliminate any legendary mage that attempted to cross.

Meanwhile, in Nevis City, Garrett, drenched in sweat, was running laps in a weighted vest.

"Garrett, keep it up! I made some delicious treats for you! Apple pie! Chestnut cake! Egg tarts! You can have them when you finish!"

Aurora shouted from the side. Since returning from the battlefield, she had completed her mandatory duties for the council and no longer had to train as rigorously as Garrett. Instead, she spent her time happily experimenting and even learning to cook to tease Garrett.

You're going to get fat like this!

"Ugh... cough!" Garrett's distraction caused a stitch in his side. He pressed his fist against his ribs and tried to regulate his breathing:

What's the use of treats? I'm exhausted. Even if I finish, I'll be too tired to eat anything! And those overly sweet desserts—I can't stomach a bite!

One lap!

Two laps!

Three laps!

The weighted vest felt heavier with each step. Did it have gravity spells on top of the physical weight?

"What's so good about desserts? Boss needs to eat meat with all this exertion!"

Bernard fanned the flames, literally, grilling an array of meats.

Thanks, but no thanks, Garrett thought, too exhausted to even roll his eyes. Post-workout protein intake was essential, but this much meat?

The grill sizzled with fat, more than enough to overwhelm any protein benefits.

"Boss, don't worry about the fatigue! I'll give you a massage after training! I guarantee every muscle will be relaxed!"

Bernard shouted, brandishing a massive skewer. Garrett sighed internally:

Bernard, I appreciate the thought, but your massages make me feel like I've been disassembled. I'd rather be sore for a few days.

Finally, Garrett completed his ten laps, dragged himself to the edge of the training ground, and shed the weighted vest. A wooden sword was thrust into his hand, and old Morgan stood ready:

"Don't stop. Sparring on the hill now! You're close to becoming a knight. Push through today, and you might break through!"

Garrett: "..."

Ten days ago, twenty days ago, a month ago, you've been saying this. I keep pushing, yet I'm still getting beaten, no knight breakthrough in sight...

When will this end, no, when will I advance...

"Focus!"

"Watch your step!"

"Be aware of your surroundings! Immerse yourself in nature!"

"Smack!"

"Is little Garrett still training?" A flowing-robed figure appeared at the edge of the training ground. Aurora quickly set up a chair, Bernard moved the grill downwind, and Cirilla happily handed over a skewer of meat:

"Senior sister, he’s still at it! They say he’s close to breaking through, but it's been a month! So slow~~~"

She made a face. Senior Sister Filby laughed, took the skewer, and used a knife to cut the meat onto a silver plate. She slowly savored it, then waved a slender wind-borne message directly to Garrett's ear:

"Little Garrett, do you want to see a legendary battle? If you break through to a knight in the next two days, I'll take you to see one~~~"

Garrett stumbled. "Smack!" Old Morgan's wooden sword struck his ribs, knocking him to the ground.

"Seems hopeless," Senior Sister sighed:

"Cirilla, perhaps you should give him some pressure?"