Garrett submitted his thesis and felt a weight lift off his shoulders, returning to his work with renewed focus. At Oak Grove Clinic, the new batch of students began by memorizing anatomical structures while assisting with tasks, learning the principles of sterile technique. The later batch, such as those from the Royal Maternity Hospital, had mastered basic anatomy. They needed to find cadavers to practice on before moving on to dissecting pregnant rabbits, dogs, and sows. The earliest batch of students was now capable of performing surgeries independently, though Garrett still oversaw and corrected them. Each day, Garrett performed five surgeries himself, each taking fifteen minutes. Observing surgeries, however, took an hour per operation. When would these students improve their speed? Increasing speed required familiarity with anatomical structures, which in turn needed more cadavers. Acquiring more cadavers meant tapping into the reserves of the Necromancy School. “Hurry up! Is the rabies vaccine paper finished? The Black Crow Swamp has been waiting for almost a year!” This project was specifically authorized by the Black Crow Swamp. Completing it would earn goodwill, making it easier to request cadavers from them. This was no small feat. For the rabies vaccine project, nearly all stray dogs in Nevis City had been captured. This injured child was found through a network of alumni, two hundred miles away, and brought in urgently by a flying horse. Upon inquiry, Carlos immediately presented the work. Garrett reviewed the paper thoroughly, checked the experiment records and medical case history, and found no errors. He then listed Carlos as the first author. Carlos was apprehensive. Garrett patted his shoulder, “Well done. This is what you deserve. Keep it up; there are many more projects waiting for you.” Carlos was diligent and talented. The dark gold skeleton given by the Immortal might one day belong to him. With the paper in hand, Garrett headed to the Tower of Heaven to submit it. And then he was caught… “You finally have time to come,” said Grand Mage Edgar, grabbing Garrett. His gaunt face twisted into a semblance of a smile, sinister and unnerving. “Do you remember the previous project?” Garrett was bewildered. It wasn’t that he couldn’t remember, but there were too many projects at hand. Just the collaborations with the Necromancy School included a smallpox vaccine, a rabies vaccine, a paper on attenuated vaccines to deceive the Radiant Church, and a cellulose patent. ℝ𝐀₦ỗВʧ Planned collaborations (to swindle them into funding) included a cholera vaccine and a vascular cast. Not to mention tuberculosis and plague, for which they needed to find patients to test streptomycin. They needed to find, not create, patients. Seeing Garrett’s vacant, unfocused look, Grand Mage Edgar waved a hand before his eyes. Behind him, a dark gold skeleton holding equipment mimicked the gesture. “Mrs. Alva’s project! The one about treating the child of that lord across the strait!” Garrett finally remembered and felt a bit excited. “They finally agreed to treat the child? They sent the child over?” A new case at last! Without new cases, Garrett feared he might be renamed Garrett, Director of Obstetrics, Nordmark. “They haven’t sent the child over,” Grand Mage Edgar explained as they walked to the Tower of Songs. During this period, they had been working with the Enchantment School on a brainwave project, becoming quite familiar with each other. The Enchantment School needed the Necromancy School to help with cranial surgeries, while the Necromancy School needed the Enchantment School for brain region research. Tʜe sourcᴇ of thɪs content ɪs 𝗻𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹•𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑒•𝙣𝙚𝙩 Despite initial conflicts, they had gradually repaired their relationship. Moreover, the aftermath of handling Mr. Arezzo’s case brought them closer. Naturally, whenever Grand Mage Edgar encountered Garrett, he would bring him along. “They only sent the information. If you think it’s treatable, they’ll send similar patients over to evaluate your methods. After all, it’s their child, and they want the best chance of success…” Garrett fell silent. It was inevitable that only the wealthy could afford treatment in this era. Sometimes, whether a poor person with a rare disease could receive treatment depended on whether a wealthy person invested in research. In essence, the rich and powerful funded medical advancements primarily out of fear for their own lives and those of their families. Meanwhile, the poor with similar conditions served merely as research subjects. Like the child with congenital heart disease from the viscount’s family, who was only brought for treatment after ten similar cases had been successfully treated. “Where is the information?” The information was at the Tower of Songs, specifically with Mrs. Alva. Due to its connection with the intelligence system, it couldn’t be freely disseminated and was directly handed to her by intelligence personnel. Magical energy surged, and a light and shadow image rose from the crystal, standing before them. Garrett took one look and frowned deeply. A child stood in the image, or rather, leaned, with one shoulder high, one low, one leg long, and one short. Unable to walk properly, the child moved sideways like a crab. “Apparently, he was born ,” Mrs. Alva said worriedly, glancing at Garrett. “In this state, he can’t become a knight. According to the Radiant Church, he’s a sinner by birth and can never serve God. They had to secretly raise him in the countryside… Can you treat this?” Garrett remained silent, examining the severe spinal deformity, likely accompanied by lower limb deformities. Whether there were pelvic, thoracic, or internal organ deformities required further examination. Treatment would need orthopedic, cardiothoracic, and even neurosurgical expertise. He was neither an orthopedist, a cardiothoracic surgeon, nor a neurosurgeon. “Honestly, it would be easier for them to have another child…” He muttered to himself. That lord, injured on the battlefield, was supposedly infertile. But as long as there were intact testicles, even just one, assisted reproductive techniques could enable them to have another child. “That’s feasible! What method?” Mrs. Alva’s eyes lit up. Solving the problem was all that mattered, regardless of the method. Simpler solutions were preferable to challenging ones. But Garrett saw it differently. Solving the parents’ problem was one thing, but addressing the child’s issue was another: “Please inform them that I might have a solution, but I need time to research…” Please take a moment to rate this novel at Novelupdate.