A Hospital in Another World? Chapter 966: Treasure! Treasure! Offer Treasures to the Silver Dragon!

The six Golden Eagle Warriors exchanged glances. They stood shoulder to shoulder, looking at the White Eagle Warriors collapsed on the ground, their expressions grim:

"Indeed, very strong."

"There was no warning at all, just a point of the oak staff, and it was already activated. I suspect even that point wasn't necessary."

"The White Eagle Warriors fell immediately. Even we were affected... If it were the Black Eagle Warriors, wouldn't they be wiped out instantly?"

"Let's report back this way... The Plague Maiden has already been dealt with. There's no point in holding people back..."

Each of the six took a syringe and, following Garrett's instructions, injected the White Eagle Warriors one by one. Three hundred people! Each Golden Eagle Warrior had to inject fifty people! How long would this take?

Fortunately, as the potion entered their bodies, most of the people showed improvement. Although still lying on the ground, moaning incessantly, the rash covering their bodies had subsided considerably. Their throats weren't as hoarse, and their temperatures had dropped slightly...

The Golden Eagle Warriors felt slightly relieved. They formed a circle, took off the golden wings from their backs, and prayed softly. The White Eagle Warriors who could still move struggled to stand up, lining up behind them.

In the uniform prayers, the golden wings floated up, forming a ring, gently flapping. In the distant Great Temple, the eyes of the statue of the Eagle God suddenly shot out two beams of golden light:

Garrett and Cirilla flew away, not looking back. They skimmed over forests, streams, and battlefields littered with flesh and blood. Looking down at the hillside on the edge of the battlefield, a scene of jubilant celebration was already unfolding:

Tall tents formed a large circle. In the open space before the tents, bonfires blazed, and warriors sang and danced. One hand held wooden or clay bowls filled with wine, the other held large skewers of roasted meat, waving, kicking, stomping, and singing loudly:

"Chop the wood, hey, huh ha!"

"Cut the wood, hey, huh ha!"

"Throw the stones, light the torches, hmm yo, hey ha!"

"Defeat the prey, carry the meat back, ho ha!"

The flames flickered, sometimes soaring high, sometimes blown low by the wind, casting the warriors' faces into light and shadow. The colorful feather crowns on their heads and the complex totem lines on their faces looked even more terrifying in the firelight.

But at this moment, no one found these faces frightening. Every face beamed with a bright smile, and smiles are the most universal expression of human emotion:

Two warriors, not from the same tribe, not knowing each other, not even speaking the same language, would raise their roasted meat when their eyes met, open their mouths wide, and laugh heartily:

"We won!"

"We won!"

"We are safe!"

"No more fear of the Plague Maiden!"

Cirilla's sharp eyes spotted a black panther, several times larger than a tiger, lying in the crowd, squinting its eyes, its tail like a steel whip gently swaying. It chewed on roasted meat, oil dripping from its mouth, while several warriors diligently brushed its fur...

"Look! A panther!"

She shouted, pointing down. Garrett, holding her hand, floated down, immediately greeted by several chiefs and high shamans, who bowed to him:

"Respected Son of the God..."

"Respected Lord of Plague..."

"Oh, not today!" Garrett waved cheerfully:

"We fought a big battle today, we won, everyone is tired, it's time to celebrate! Let's not talk too much, come eat meat, drink wine!"

"Eat meat, drink wine!" The crowd roared in agreement. Immediately, two warriors carried over a freshly roasted calf, placing it in front of them. The chief of the Wild Bull Tribe personally wielded the knife, cutting off a piece of tenderloin and presenting it to Garrett:

"Son of the God, please!"

Garrett: "..."

To be honest, roasting meat like this is a bit wasteful... Why not roast it piece by piece, each piece with its own flavor, and less likely to burn...

While complaining inwardly, he took out his own knife, selecting the best piece to give to Cirilla. Just after he finished, two more warriors carried over a roasted lamb, offering him a piece of lamb fat...

Garrett: "..." I don't eat this! Take it away! What's so good about pure fat! It's too greasy!

The two of them ate and drank heartily until Garrett, clutching his stomach, lay on one side hiccupping. Only then did several chiefs approach him, placing their hands on their chests and bowing deeply:

"Respected Son of the God, we are very grateful for fighting alongside us and defeating the Plague Maiden. Your courage and kindness will always be remembered in our hearts. Please accept our gratitude and offerings..."

"No need—"

Garrett blurted out. Before he could finish, several large baskets made of vines were brought up by the warriors, lined up in front of him.

Under the torches, the gleam of gold and the brilliance of colorful jewels dazzled the ground.

Cirilla's eyes quickly reflected gold. Garrett glanced at her, wisely keeping his mouth shut.

"So much gold..." Cirilla exclaimed softly. She squatted down, picking through the items one by one:

Unlike the trophies given by the White Horn King, which were covered in mud and dirt and buried who knows how long, the gifts from these human tribes were at least intact. Cirilla casually rummaged through the nearest box and picked up a gold artifact:

It was a gold mask. Its design was very unique, not fitting closely to a human face like the masks Garrett had seen in Nevis, but two or three times larger.

The sides extended outward, the pointed ears with membranes raised, resembling a bat. The top of the mask was adorned with a circle of bright feathers, below which hung a circle of gold ornaments, the front mostly painted with cinnabar...

Cirilla picked up the mask, turned it over, and put it on her face. Behind the mask, her silver-blue eyes sparkled, and the teardrop-shaped pendant between her eyes swung gently, emitting countless rays of light.

"I like this!"

Cirilla announced happily. She let go, and the gold mask naturally adhered to her face. She reached into the box again.

This time, she pulled out a long gold staff, topped with a gold eagle with spread wings, pecking downwards. A gold snake coiled around the staff, its head raised, neck swollen, ready to strike the eagle.

The eagle's feathers and tail were intricately detailed, and the scales on the snake's body showed a difference between contraction and relaxation.

Not to mention the green gems in the eagle's eyes and the red gems in the snake's eyes, which seemed to burn. Even without considering the craftsmanship or the size and quality of the gems, this gold staff was already beautiful enough.

"I like this too!"

Cirilla raised the gold staff high. Her slender fingers spun it around swiftly, then she lifted it towards Garrett, pretending to strike:

"Bang!"

"...Thank you, I think the oak staff already hurts enough..."

Garrett murmured, clutching his head in mock pain. Cirilla laughed happily and continued searching the box. The gold plates, gold bowls, gold bracelets, and gold ornaments that weren't interesting enough were left aside, probably for decorating the bed later—

After much searching, only a watermelon-sized natural gold nugget and a gold bracelet shaped like a spirit snake that coiled around her arm and trembled caught her eye. She wrapped the bracelet around her arm, shaking it again and again:

"Look at the eyes of the little snake!" She pulled Garrett close, twisting her arm to show the bracelet in his face:

"See, when you turn it down, it's this color, turn it up, it's another color!"

A refreshing and sweet scent wafted from the girl. For some reason, Garrett, who didn't feel anything wrong while flying side by side with her during the day, suddenly felt his heart pounding wildly.

He praised her randomly, saying he was going to check on the wounded, and quickly walked away. After a few steps, he found the chief of the Red Hawk Tribe:

"You are too generous..."

"Ah, this is nothing." The chief of the Red Hawk Tribe laughed, his brick-red, blue-gray, black and white spotted feather crown shaking above his head. He looked at Cirilla, who had just picked out a long string of beads, wrapping it around her hand to examine, his eyes crinkling into fine lines:

"These are just things we occasionally find or loot from invaders, used for trading. Compared to the lives you saved, they are nothing. We only dare present them because the young lady likes them."

So, this is not all of it?

Garrett thought about it. The gold in these baskets probably weighed about a hundred kilograms, equivalent to 100,000 gold coins, about one-eighteenth of the bed entirely made of gold coins... uh... in Cirilla's room.

Even in Nevis, this amount was more than enough to buy a full-powered shot from a level 9 mage. Even if the mage encountered danger during the process, as long as it wasn't life-threatening, they wouldn't complain... And this isn't all?

Of course, the value of gold varies in different places, which is understandable. Garrett tried to keep his expression steady, nodding calmly:

"And then?"

"You saved the lives of our tribesmen and spared us from the Plague Maiden. We can only repay your kindness by offering our most precious treasures. The cores of powerful magical beasts, refined weapons, rare treasures..."

He glanced at the warriors singing and dancing by the bonfire, his eyes beaming:

"These are stored in the tribe's great hall. Now that we've won, I've already sent people to fetch them. Besides, if you have any other requests, we will do our utmost to fulfill them!"

"That's right!"

A huge wild bull stepped out of the darkness. The White Horn King lowered his head, his gentle eyes fixed on Garrett, his voice deep:

"Respected Son of the God, whatever you need, just ask. If we have it, it will be yours!"

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