A Hospital in Another World? Chapter 1000: Serpent God, What Price Will You Pay for Divine Power?
Previously on A Hospital in Another World?...
The temple fell silent for a moment.
Tlatoani carefully examined Garrett, from head to toe and back again. Garrett raised his face, unwavering under the scrutiny, while silently musing:
"Vaccines aren't that fast... but verifying transmission methods is very quick... testing multiple possibilities simultaneously, in ten days to half a month, it should be clear..."
Garrett would never forget the example of yellow fever given by his epidemiology professor in his previous life:
"In 1802, Stubbins Ffirth, a doctoral student at the University of Pennsylvania, applied the vomit of yellow fever patients to his wounds, dripped it into his eyes, inhaled the vaporized vomit, swallowed dried and compressed vomit, and directly ingested diluted vomit..."
The classroom was filled with sounds of disgust. The professor continued, unperturbed:
"Each time, he remained unharmed. Later, he repeated the experiment with the blood, saliva, sweat, and urine of patients, still unharmed. He concluded that yellow fever could not be transmitted from person to person."
The classroom was abuzz with chatter, students shaking their heads, both admiring Ffirth's perseverance and pitying his needless suffering. The professor pressed on:
"In 1900, U.S. Army physician Walter Reed allowed mosquitoes that had bitten yellow fever patients to bite him, proving the disease was mosquito-borne—"
The classroom noise grew louder, with murmurs of "he must have been celebrated after that" and the like. The professor then delivered a sobering note:"He died."
"......"
"......"
The classroom fell silent, students lowering their heads in respect for the brave pioneer.
By the year Garrett crossed over, there was still no specific cure for yellow fever, only supportive treatments to prevent complications. In 1900, infection was essentially a death sentence.
Of course, that wasn't the case now. With "Remove Disease" and "Healing Light," lives could be saved. Hence, in urgent situations, Garrett agreed to use prisoners of war for experiments—
After all, firstly, they wouldn't die, as healing spells could save them; secondly, the disease wouldn't spread, as all mages carried mosquito-repelling magical items, and every room had a targeted mosquito-repelling magic array...
Just as he thought of this, black mist began to swirl around the Serpent God's statue, condensing and solidifying, giving the statue's black scales a shimmering glow.
Then, the statue's eyes lit up, its mouth opened, and it hissed. A barely perceptible, yet very clear wave passed through the hall, directly into Garrett's heart:
"Plague Lord, are you here to take my divine power?"
Where did this come from?
Garrett was momentarily stunned, thoughts racing as he reviewed his recent actions. He shook his head firmly:
"Why would I need your divine power?"
"Only my divine power can protect the warriors from the plague!" the Serpent God exclaimed, the black mist roiling and hissing:
"You want to eradicate the plague, how else but with my power?—I'll tell you, it's impossible!"
Garrett: "......"
Should I say it's fortunate I'm a priest of the God of Nature? My healing spells might come from nature or elsewhere, but definitely not from you!
Otherwise, relying on such a stingy god, I'd still be stuck at level one priest!
Never mind, can't expect too much from indigenous gods. At least it's not an automatic response machine of faith, but a living, speaking being—
If negotiations fail, I can always ask Senior Brother to take action and beat it up. With that in mind, there's no need to be too picky.
Garrett comforted himself silently, trying to smile at the Serpent God:
"I don't think I need your divine power to defend against the plague—at least, my defense approach is different. But just to be sure, could you explain how you protect your warriors from the plague?"
"Where my divine power reaches, all disasters retreat naturally!"
The Serpent God replied without hesitation. Garrett rolled his eyes:
"Well, if it's all about divine power, we can't have a conversation. Even divine power must have a mode of action, right?"
The Serpent God seemed agitated, hissing and roiling. Suddenly, Archmage Byerbo coughed lightly:
"If you say it like this, we can't have a conversation. How about calling in a warrior—preferably a low-level one—and covering him with divine power so we can see how it works?"
These words were spoken calmly, slowly, with a slight smile. The black mist stopped swirling, shrank back slightly, then swiftly swept through the hall.
"......Ahem."
Tlatoani, as if receiving an order, coughed lightly, stood up, and raised his hand.
Soon, a Black Hawk warrior on guard outside the steps walked in quickly, first saluting the statue, then saluting Tlatoani and the two guests.
Then, he put down his weapon and carefully stood in front of Garrett.
A wisp of black mist immediately covered him. Very shallow, very faint, almost invisible if not paying attention. Garrett's eyes widened, staring intently at the warrior, quickly switching detection spells:
"The energy intensity isn't very high, about second-circle... a stronger second-circle... infrared vision... Senior Brother, his body temperature dropped!"
"I saw it!" Byerbo replied indifferently. Garrett murmured softly:
"Serpent God, huh? Serpents are ectothermic, always cooler in temperature, so making him look cooler is possible too... wind... no wind around him... scent..."
Muttering to himself, he studied the warrior for a while, circling him several times.
Until the black mist expanded and contracted, showing signs of impatience, Garrett confidently concluded:
"The Serpent God's blessing simulates the blessed object as a snake in terms of temperature, scent, and waves. This makes jungle pests and mosquitoes ignore him, right?"
The black mist fell silent, adhering to the statue, silent and still. Garrett looked up at the statue, spreading his hands:
"That's why I said, my approach is different. My idea is to use magic to repel pests—if we can determine which creature spreads the disease, we can lower the cost to near-zero-circle magic;"
He glanced at Archmage Byerbo, who nodded, indicating "no problem, it can be done." Garrett, encouraged, continued:
"The second approach is to find repellent plants in the jungle and make potions to apply on the body. Of course, this requires thorough communication with the jungle's natives or the power of nature priests..."
Byerbo: "......"
What kind of tone is that?
Why does it sound like you're planning to bring in native nature priests?
Little Garrett, did you forget you're a level 10 nature priest?
Even if you're too lazy to go into the jungle, if someone brings back those plants, you can ask them and find out which ones repel mosquitoes!
Never mind, teaching or beating the junior brother shouldn't be done in front of outsiders. Byerbo observed, listening to Garrett's explanation:
"Another method, which I'm currently focusing on, is to develop resistance to the disease. Just like I made them resistant to smallpox, they can be bitten but not fall ill!"
The black mist surged again, extending a whip-like tendril that lashed at the warrior, who then quickly left. The mist detached from the statue, coiling and straightening, swelling at the tip, hissing loudly:
"Isn't that still diluting my power? Isn't that still stealing my divine power! With your smallpox cure, many people stopped believing in me! My power, my power! If they all hoped for me, feared me, begged me, how could I... how could I..."
Garrett lowered his eyes silently. How sad, he thought, this is the nature of divine power—
No matter how powerful, no matter how formidable, when no one believes in him, worships him, fears him, or even calls his name...
Even gods must return to dust like mortals. And because they are stronger, they endure longer periods of fear and suffering before their demise...
"Enough!"
Lost in his thoughts, Garrett was interrupted by Byerbo. The Archmage stared at the swirling black mist in the temple, eyes gleaming slightly:
"Isn't it just some divine power? Isn't it just the fear and worship of the people? Fine, once Garrett creates something, teaches you how to use it, or gives it to you, you can distribute it in the name of divine protection, agreed?!"
Garrett didn't need this belief power!
To him, every bit of belief, every chant of "Plague Lord," was poison, a hindrance to his progress! Offloading it, finding someone else to take it, was ideal!
"That would be great!"
The black mist condensed, coiling into a snake, lowering its head. Byerbo leaned back contentedly:
"Of course, these things aren't free. Hey, Serpent God, what are you willing to trade for them?"
"We'll discuss it once he's created something!"
The black mist straightened. Byerbo nodded calmly:
"Of course, we'll wait until he's made something. Once he has, something that can protect one, a hundred, a thousand people from the plague, what will you offer in return?"
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