A Hospital in Another World? Chapter >>>Tags A Hospital in Another Wor 1 Share Loading content Loading content Loading content Loading content$ USD•English (United States)•Sitemap•Rep...

Bernard and the Bull Warrior Hardigg stood facing each other, weapons in hand, and then turned. One step, two steps, each walked ten steps away, then turned simultaneously—

"Take it outside!"

Garrett shouted just in time.

There were so many patients here! How could they just start fighting where patients were lying around? Besides, Bernard's big bone club and the Bull Warrior's huge axe would make a noise louder than ironworking!

Realizing he wasn't the host here, his voice dropped by an octave at the end as he looked left and right:

"You do have a training ground, right?"

Seven or eight high shamans responded with kind smiles.

Bernard, embarrassed, carried his club out of the temple. In his busy schedule, Garrett tossed a Mystic Eye to follow him, healing while watching the live feed:

The so-called training ground was just an open space in front of the temple, not even separated by a gate. Maybe the warriors' battles were also a way to please the gods?

Are you really forging iron here?

Boom!

Boom!

Boom!

The ice and snow beneath their feet shattered, flying in all directions, hitting the spectators. A young warrior, caught off guard, got hit on the face and immediately started bleeding.

No one cared. Even the young warrior, after being pulled back, just wiped the blood off and continued to crane his neck to watch. A bone club taller than a man and a long-handled axe collided and bounced off each other repeatedly, looking evenly matched...

The bone club slashed, smashed, swung, and jabbed, while the axe hacked horizontally, vertically, diagonally, and upwards. Five minutes, ten minutes, neither gained the upper hand. Suddenly, the Bull Warrior roared, swung his axe twice, and jumped back:

"I'll call upon the blessing of the Bison God! Use whatever means you have!"

The Mystic Eye shifted, revealing a young shaman. Garrett hurriedly cast the last two Remove Disease spells and walked out quickly. Bernard, seeing him approach, waved with one arm and shouted:

"No need! I'll do it myself first!"

The Bull Warrior stepped forward with his right leg, lowered his head, and held his axe in both hands, ready to charge. Three steps to the side, the young shaman took out a silver-plated bull horn, brought it to his lips, and blew hard:

"Uuuu—"

A deep, cow-like roar echoed through the training ground. Garrett instinctively activated Detection Magic and saw a faint black light spread from the horn, covering the Bull Warrior.

Muscles swelled, skin defense increased, all basic enhancements... Garrett evaluated silently. In addition, in his meditative vision, he saw a dark glow on the warrior, extending outwards, forming bull horns on either side of the axe.

What's this...

Garrett wondered. The Bull Warrior Hardigg charged again, his steps echoing. On the last step, the ground shook.

Garrett squinted. In his meditative vision, ripples radiated from the warrior's feet, through the earth, hitting Bernard. For a moment, the barbarian's aura became chaotic...

No way?

War Stomp?

Perfect for the Bison God's blessing...

Taking advantage of Bernard's distraction, the long-handled axe swung down. In the crisis, Bernard roared, his momentum surging.

In the meditative vision, his figure burned like fire. The dark glow and ripples were repelled, and Bernard gripped his club, blocking upwards—

Boom!

Another crash. The axe flew high, circling, sweeping like a wheel.

Half a meter away, two ghostly bull horns emerged from the axe, stabbing at Bernard's chest and back.

"Watch out!"

"Watch out!"

Garrett and Cirilla exclaimed simultaneously. Garrett prepared a Protection from Arrows spell, ready to cast on Bernard. But the barbarian didn't dodge, raising his club, a bright light bursting from it, roaring skyward.

The Bull Warrior froze, his head tilting back as if struck. The light roared down, and Bernard's form was enveloped by a beastly shadow.

The bull horns hit the beastly shadow and bounced off. The beast turned its head, bent slightly, and "crack," "crack," bit off the horns like crisps...

Bernard, wielding his club like a windmill, charged forward. Compared to before, his strength, speed, and pain tolerance had all increased significantly.

If he was a level nine warrior before, now he could match a level ten.

"Self-induced berserk?"

A low, surprised voice came from Baronessimo. He shuffled to Garrett's side, whispering:

"Boss, your follower has mastered self-induced berserk? And he can use beast souls?"

Garrett shrugged.

"He's mastered it long ago... If he hadn't, according to Old Morgan, he wouldn't qualify to venture to the New World..."

Baronessimo fell silent. Soon, Bernard, using his berserk and beast soul power, had the Bull Warrior retreating step by step. Finally, the chief of the Bison Tribe stepped in with two bone clubs:

"Clang!"

The clubs crossed above the chief's head, locking Bernard's giant club. The chief nodded, smiling:

"Honorable warrior, you have won. You have proven your strength. Your power is comparable to the strongest White Eagle warriors."

So not the Golden Eagle warriors yet... "So, how many Golden Eagle warriors are there in the Eagle Nation?"

"Golden Eagle warriors are the strongest in the Eagle Nation, their power and fame far-reaching." The chief answered without hesitation:

"There are always twelve Golden Eagle warriors, blessed by the Eagle God, each wielding a golden spear and golden wings. No more, no less."

"What if one dies?"

"They are replaced from the White Eagle warriors. As long as the Eagle God's favor endures, the Golden Eagle warriors' power will never fade."

God-given warriors?

Or warriors with specific powers from artifacts or magical tools?

Garrett couldn't decide. But the key wasn't here, it was about how much power he could muster against them if necessary. He looked around:

"Do you have any warriors of Golden Eagle level?"

The chiefs laughed. The chief of the Red Falcon Tribe stepped forward, head high:

"I myself can rival a Golden Eagle warrior."

"Our tribe has two warriors who can match the Golden Eagles," said the Bison Tribe chief calmly. The Black Panther Tribe followed:

"Though we are few, we can find two strong warriors! And our Panther God can take down two Golden Eagle warriors himself!"

Panther God?

Garrett was surprised. The God of Nature, Spring Goddess, God of War, and all the spirits he'd seen in the Redstone Tribe, White Birch Tribe, Reindeer Tribe, and Beaver Tribe never personally intervened.

At most, they triggered corresponding divine spells during rituals, like a vending machine storing divine power...

In fact, he was amazed the Reindeer Tribe could receive divine spells by raising and sacrificing reindeer yearly.

He wouldn't have agreed to it himself!

The Bison God had also granted power to the warrior. How strong it was, or whether it could fight personally, Garrett...

Well, he hadn't seen it himself.

"So, what is your Panther God like? Can it fight? Which gods can fight?"

Garrett asked sincerely, looking at each high shaman and scanning above their heads. Ah, if only someone could summon a god for him to see, or better, summon a god to fight...

Uh, that might be difficult... unless there was a tribal war...

"Honored guest, visit our tribe and you will see the Panther God." The Black Panther Tribe's high shaman stepped forward, bowing:

"He has been leading our strongest warriors against the Plague Maiden's attacks and cannot come. We are here to find ways to resist the plague and get more warriors into battle."

"So he is?"

"A powerful black panther in the nearby mountains, worshiped for many years."

Ah, a real divine beast, no wonder it could fight. Garrett looked expectantly at the Bison Tribe. The high shaman shook his head:

"Our Bison God is a sacred white bison. When we wandered the wilderness, lost, it appeared and led us to this fertile land."

So you worship it to this day?

Garrett's eyes asked. The high shaman proudly replied:

"Whenever we wear its hide, don its skull-helmets, and beat its leg-bone drums, it responds to our call, granting fertile fields and warrior strength."

Uh...

You win...

So you use beast soul binding and worship?

Garrett choked, unable to complain. The only comparison he could think of was the old ox in the Cowherd and Weaver Girl story, allowing the Cowherd to kill it, wear its hide, and fly to the heavens...

At the back of the crowd, the Great River Tribe's high shaman approached silently, making gestures. Instantly, a sparkling stream rose behind him:

In the rushing water, a roaring water column formed a vague human shape.

"Our spirit is our first chief. When the river flooded, threatening to submerge our settlement, he entered the water, which then receded. He merged with the river and has protected us ever since."

"In crises, he drives the water to repel enemies. If the Plague God comes, our spirit will fight to the death!"

Great, totem gods, ancestor gods, divine beasts, you have them all!

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