Chapter 48

Knight Balun left with a thousand thanks. Even if the treatment hadn't started or hadn't worked, the effort Greta had put in was enough to earn his heartfelt gratitude.

Greta was indifferent to his gratitude. Before he left, she held Balun's hand and repeatedly urged him:

"Don't smoke! Don't smoke when you get back! — If you smoke, your hand won't heal easily!"

"Why?"

"Just listen to me!" Greta pushed him out the door with all her might. Tobacco, nicotine, nicotine causes blood vessels to spasm, making it harder for wounds to heal. The most obvious example is that reattached fingers can easily become necrotic. Although Knight Balun was having wrist tendon surgery, it would be better to minimize the impact.

But do you want me to explain what nicotine is?

Thanks, but no, just listen to me!

After seeing the guest off, Greta returned to her desk and began drafting. — To say that getting rich is joyful, with two thousand sheets of paper at home, she could write whatever she wanted, and it didn't matter if she tore one up. She no longer had to be frugal and write in the margins!

She organized her thoughts, first writing the medical records in a flowing script, then dipping her pen in ink and writing down the steps on the draft paper:

Anesthesia, hemostasis, disinfection, surgery.

Anesthesia: Ask the Temple of War if they have any ready-made divine spells; if so, conduct experiments to confirm the results; if not, ask the alchemist. Hemlock, mandrake, henbane, belladonna; ask if there are corresponding spells;

Hemostasis: Tourniquet, hemostatic forceps, divine hemostasis

Disinfection: Hand washing, preparing strong alcohol, sterilizing all instruments and clothes at high temperatures

Greta put a question mark next to the word "instruments." By Hippocrates, she wasn't exaggerating; she only asked for two hemostatic forceps and three tissue forceps. What if something unexpected happened and the instruments became contaminated and needed to be used again?

Holy light disinfection?

Flame disinfection?

If I could use the Mage's Hand instead of tissue forceps... that thing isn't physical, so it probably wouldn't need to worry about contamination...

So, I need to work harder on my magic!

She recited the vocabulary list she had copied today and yesterday, then fell asleep. The next morning, she went to the city guard's barracks, led out a horse, mounted it, and headed straight for the magic tower.

The horse was borrowed from the city guard—or rather, Captain Flynn had given it to her as a favor. At the magic tower, it was kept in the stable, and she paid the gatekeeper 5 silver coins per month. When she returned to the city, she would return the horse to the barracks. The saved time allowed her to copy 20 more pages of vocabulary each day!

She had money!

She could afford to keep a horse!

And her living standards had improved!

Her monthly salary had increased from 5 silver coins to 15 silver coins, and she had received a large one-time payment of 10 gold coins. She didn't have to worry about the cost of copying books in the short term! Greta took a bite of a cheese sandwich and a piece of cured meat, feeling very content.

After finishing lunch, she hurried to continue copying the dictionary! Once the dictionary was finished, she would translate the magic book and see what spells could be used for surgery!

Just as she was thinking happily, the door behind her creaked open. Greta turned around and saw a little boy bouncing in. From his attire, he was clearly from a wealthy family, with a shirt and tie, riding breeches, leather boots, and a velvet coat with a row of shiny silver buttons.

Seeing Greta looking at him, the boy immediately slowed his steps, put on a serious face, and crossed his arms. Though he was only a little over ten years old, he had an old-fashioned air about him, which made Greta want to laugh.

A new person has come?

Oh no, I can't copy books today!

I don't know how long this child will stay. If he stays here, I'll have to find other ways to copy books... Luckily, I put everything away while I was eating lunch...

Greta thought quickly and greeted him casually, "Hello." As she spoke, she raised her eyes and saw the person behind the boy, immediately standing up:

"Magician Elliot."

Magician Elliot nodded at Greta and turned to leave. The boy watched him go, then suddenly darted to Greta's side and made a face at her:

"Who are you?"

"I am—"

The boy clearly didn't intend to wait for Greta's answer. After making a face, he darted to the corner and started rummaging through Greta's backpack. After a few moments, he pulled out a stack of paper and flipped through it:

"What are you doing? Wow, you're copying books!"

"Shh!"

Greta quickly stopped him. She wanted to grab the paper, but was afraid of tearing it, so she hesitated. Suddenly, she turned around and saw Magician Elliot looking over from outside the library. He met Greta's eyes, then walked away as if nothing had happened.

Greta felt a bit more at ease. Inside the room, the boy was already giggling, shaking the papers loudly. He held them in front of him, then hid them behind his back, running around the room:

"You're copying books? You're in trouble! The magician said, only look, no copying!"

The paper was already not very sturdy, and with his constant shaking, it tore with a "tear" sound. Greta panicked:

"Hey, give it back!"

She lunged to grab it. The boy dodged left and right, giggling, and suddenly slipped under the table. Before Greta could bend down, the boy shouted:

"You're still trying to grab it! You're copying books and still trying to grab it! — Mr. Elliot, someone is secretly copying books! Mr. Elliot!"

The boy's voice was loud and shrill, and the echo filled the bottom floor of the magic tower. Greta couldn't stop him in time. Just as she was about to cover his mouth, a stern voice came from outside the library:

"What's going on?"

Greta stopped and turned. Outside the door, Elliot was already bowing:

"Teacher."

Oh no... caught red-handed. Greta inwardly groaned and followed suit:

"Magician Sir."

"What are you arguing about?" Magician Gehrman stepped in. Still wearing the tight red robe around his belly, still with those sharp eyes, he glanced around, and the scattered papers floated up and flew into his hands.

There's no escape... I wanted to show some results before asking for help, but it's only been two and a half days! Can two and a half days show what I'm doing? Can it move this magician?

Or, should I join the necromancers now? Maybe I'll be killed by a fireball? No, probably not, this is the library, they're afraid of fire...

Greta's thoughts were a mess. Her heart pounded, her breathing quickened, and cold sweat trickled down her back. She was clearly nervous, with adrenaline surging, constricting her blood vessels, and increasing her heart rate...

Greta was surprised she had time to think about this. She took a step forward, stood tall, and looked straight into Magician Gehrman's eyes. Her tone was steady as she defended herself:

"I'm not copying the book. I'm just making some notes and summaries to help me remember."

"You are still copying!" the boy shouted. Magician Gehrman raised a hand to stop him. His thick brows furrowed, and he looked through the papers in his hand, then suddenly said:

"Where are the others? Bring them out."