A Hospital in Another World? Chapter 919: Garrett: This Guy is Supposed to be a Cub?

Baronsimo immediately lifted his head.

This Level 12 Warrior seemed to have been cooking the whole time, constantly introducing dishes.

However, while cutting venison, washing pheasants, flipping meat patties, and listening to the sizzle on the pan and stone, he also perked up his ears, listening to the surrounding sounds of the camp.

According to his memory, there were no tribes or fixed trade routes nearby.

It was already winter, so anyone still moving through the snowy wilderness either had serious business like their group, or...

In any case, it was always wise to remain vigilant in the wild.

While vigilant, he didn't speak directly but quickly scanned the camp. The Silver Moon Deer pawed at the ground, raised its head slightly, and continued to stare at the meat over the fire;

Bernard silently gripped his big bone club;

Cirilla's fingertips glowed, and two points of light silently drifted out, landing on the barbarian and the Silver Moon Deer;

Baronsimo observed closely, noticing that his boss's eyebrows were relaxed, his steps were calm, and he looked across without any sign of surprise. Baronsimo sighed inwardly and continued cooking:

"A Nature Priest..."

In the wilderness, in the forest, such individuals had an unfair advantage. Before anyone else had spoken or even before Baronsimo heard someone approaching, nature had probably already warned Garrett, right?

Garrett indeed had known long before. Not only did he know, but he also knew there was only one person on the other side. The big tree he was leaning against told him, "It's just a cub..."

Garrett then watched as an indigenous man stepped out of the forest, crunching the snow underfoot, and for a rare moment, Garrett was stunned.

The man was tall, about half a head taller than Garrett, though still shorter than Bernard.

His physique was not particularly robust, with broad shoulders but a not-so-thick back, a thin layer of fuzz covering his upper lip. His exposed upper arms were bulging, but his wrists were still slender.

He smiled brightly, with round cheeks and a bit of baby fat...

Garrett wanted to go back and shake the tree behind him. "A cub? This?"

The "cub," actually a young man who had just transitioned from youth to early adulthood, smiled and waved his left hand at them.

His right hand lifted slightly, displaying a half-grown wild deer he had dragged along, already dead. If Garrett remembered correctly, the pattern on the deer's fur indicated it was at least a Level 5 magic beast:

"Your food smells great! Can I join you?"

Garrett scrutinized him. This indigenous youth looked only 16, no, 15, maybe 14 years old.

Garrett wasn't great at judging the age of New World natives, maybe an X-ray of his bones would be more accurate?

However, as he crunched through the snow, he didn't intentionally hide his footsteps. The bow and axe on his back and the long knife at his waist were not adjusted for easy access as he approached.

Additionally, his wide-open arms and palms facing forward all conveyed goodwill.

"This guy isn't stronger than me, boss," Bernard quietly reported through the Mindlink. Garrett glanced at Baronsimo, who nodded slightly. Garrett then opened his arms with palms forward:

"Of course, come join us, sir. I'm Garrett, and these are my companions. And you are?"

"Ah, I'm Radon, from Patuxet, here for my coming-of-age trial," the young man replied cheerfully, pointing to his bow, knife, and axe:

"I'm only allowed to bring these three items and survive alone in the wild for an entire winter! Though I'm not worried about starving or freezing since I can build shelters, the monotony of eating wild game every day is tiresome!"

"He's from the Children of Dawn, the largest tribe on the mountain. Boss, handle with care," Baronsimo warned quietly through the Mindlink.

Radon took a deep breath. Spreading his arms wide, he inhaled deeply as if trying to draw all the delicious smells into his lungs:

"Pepper! Cinnamon! Marjoram! Sage! Your food smells amazing! I'm sorry, but I can't resist. Can I join your meal? I'll give you half a deer!"

Garrett smiled warmly. With a slight gesture, the ground beside the campfire rose just enough to form a comfortable seat. Radon casually tossed the deer and pulled out a birch bowl from his bag, scooping up some snow:

"Ah—it's been so long since I've had anything with spices! I thought about hunting some game to trade with nearby tribes, but they were all gone!"

"Gone?!"

Garrett's expression turned serious. He cut a piece of meat and used Mage Hand to place it in Radon's birch bowl, leaning forward:

"We just arrived in the New World and are heading west over the mountains. Could you tell me what's happened in the past year or two?"

"Of course, of course!" Radon said cheerfully, using a sheep horn knife as a fork to eat the meat, juice dripping from his mouth:

"But I used to live in the mountains, so I'm not too familiar with this area. Anyway, I'll do my best..."

Accompanied by fragrant roasted white bread, steaming stew and tubers, sweet and sour venison patties, and tender pheasant baked in the earth, Garrett listened to a long story.

He finally learned what had happened on this continent during the Year Without Summer—

To support as many citizens as possible, the council had relocated about two hundred thousand people to the New World settlements. These two hundred thousand needed enough food reserves to survive the Year Without Summer and the spring famine that followed.

The council's solution was to send knights, mages, and all combat professionals into the wild to hunt as much game as possible. They then mobilized the settlers to preserve this food by any means necessary.

"I've never seen such a cold summer... Last summer, a blizzard hit overnight, freezing all rivers and streams..." Speaking of the recent Year Without Summer, Radon shivered involuntarily:

"Our roundhouses, shaded by chestnut bark in the summer, collapsed under the snow... Many people in the tribe fell ill during that time..."

Garrett's face was solemn. Radon rubbed his arms, his expression darkening further:

"Nothing would grow in the fields. Those of us in the mountains were better off since some game didn't migrate, but the tribes to the east... The wild cattle and deer were either slaughtered last year or migrated south and haven't returned..."

"A great famine."

Garrett said softly. It seemed the council had cared for their own citizens but ignored the natives' plight—

Or perhaps, the large-scale hunting of animals in advance made it extraordinarily difficult for these natives to survive the famine even by hunting.

"The newcomers are the only ones with food—only they have food," Radon muttered darkly:

"Some tribes tried to raid their towns and were killed or sold into slavery. Other tribes signed contracts with them, receiving enough food but only if they agreed to work for them—they all moved there and were ordered around..."

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