Garrett happily took a boat ride, closing his eyes and letting soone carry him back. This episode imdiately alard a large crowd.
The Dwarf Elder stood by his bedside for a quarter of an hour, murmuring for a while, then announced "All is well, the life force is strong";
Elder Buffalo asked about the causes and consequences, saying "This is a good thing, the spirit of the contract has reaped rewards, which can reciprocate to the master, congratulations";
Archmage LeBron ca over for a stroll, saying "It’s fine, just keep quiet and let him ditate";
Even Marquis Tergu of the Blood Clan generously offered "If it really doesn’t work out, I can give him so blood..."
"That won’t be necessary!"
Seraila vigorously pushed him out.
Garrett, in a ditative state, cald his mind, receiving wave after wave of relentless mories from the little snake. From hatching, growing, hunting, to occupying a lair.
Then, being taken by a young wizard as a contract spirit, he traveled through wind, frost, rain, and snow, tasted herbs, fought venomous insects, cured stubborn diseases, and battled fierce beasts...
After decades of solitude, he ford a new contract and saw sights he had never seen before under soone else’s control.
The contract spirit’s mories were complex yet simple. Vision, hearing, sll, and an extraordinary intuition all poured into his mind.
Garrett emptied his mind, firmly suggesting to himself:
"Therefore, there is no color in the sky, nor perception, thought, action, consciousness... no eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, mind, no form, sound, scent, taste, touch, phenona..."
It must be said, the scriptures learned in the hospital to comfort patients were sowhat useful.
During ditation, he was unaware of ti passing. People ca and went outside, the room was noisy then quiet, but Garrett did not care, wholeheartedly imrsed in ditation.
When he had sorted out all the ssages and opened his eyes, the cabin had darkened. A single light, dimd by frosted glass, illuminated only a square foot of the table.
A dinner was laid out on the table, its lid covered in steam, keeping it warm. Outside the cabin, the sea wind howled and water splashed, indicating they had left the island and set sail under the cover of night.
Seraila lay across the table. She had been waiting there for who knows how long, her face flushed and drooling slightly in her sleep.
Garrett peeked at her cautiously. Waking a sleeping dragon had unpredictable consequences, and he certainly wasn’t going to try. With a flick of his wrist, a cup flew over to him, and he cast a water creation spell, filling it halfway.
"Garrett! You’re awake!"
Just that slight noise had already awakened the young silver dragon. She rubbed her eyes and jumped down:
"How’s the little snake doing?"
"It seems to have grown..." Garrett showed her his wrist where the snake had doubled in size and thickness, curling around his wrist and flicking its tongue at Seraila.
Seraila was delighted and reached out to play with it. The little snake curled around Garrett’s wrist, rearing up halfway. Its head bobbed up and down, left and right, playing hide and seek with Seraila.
The snake was quick, but Seraila was quicker. Sotis, when she couldn’t dodge in ti, she would gently press on its tiny head.
It had swallowed many toxic dragon breaths, and Seraila’s fingertips were covered with a layer of luminescence, which surprisingly made contact with the incorporeal, pressing it flat on the table. For a mont, the cabin was filled with the clear, crisp laughter of the young girl.
Garrett let her play with the little snake while he wolfed down his dinner. Then he extended his wrist again, allowing the snake to coil back up, focusing as he communicated with it:
"I’ve prepared two saline solutions, can you tell the difference?"
The little snake wound around his wrist, looking puzzled. Garrett tidied up the dishes and drew two samples with a test tube: one 0.9% saline and one Ringer’s solution, clear and transparent, at the sa temperature, placed on the table.
The little snake dove into them. Soon, feedback ca:
"They’re different."
"How are they different?"
"..."
Clearly, this question was beyond the little snake’s ability to express. It coiled around Garrett’s wrist a few tis, nodding its head up and down, but no ssage ca through. Garrett wasn’t in a hurry, setting up an array of alchemical equipnt, continuing to prepare dications:
A pinch of glucose, dissolved in water;
A pinch of oral rehydration salts, dissolved in 100 ml distilled water;
Potassium chloride solution;
Sodium
bicarbonate solution;
Penicillin injection...
A saline solution mixed with cowpox...
The little snake "tasted" each one. Though it couldn’t describe the differences, it rembered which was which, and which were similar:
For example, Ringer’s solution and saline were quite similar, and sowhat like the oral rehydration salts;
The oral rehydration salts had a bit more of a glucose taste compared to Ringer’s solution, yet lacked sothing;
The penicillin solution tasted much like saline but had a very pungent scent, while the cowpox injection was much milder...
Garrett was both amazed and pleased. He quickly lined up a long row of test tubes:
Concentrated sulfuric acid, concentrated hydrochloric acid, concentrated nitric acid, dilute sulfuric acid, dilute hydrochloric acid, sodium bicarbonate solution, sodium hydroxide solution...
At a thought, the little snake moved from one test tube to another. Its head dipped in, stayed for a mont, then ca out; moved to another, dipped in, stayed...
Although it couldn’t distinguish the taste of acids and bases, it could still indicate to Garrett which were harsh and which were mild, arranging them in order from strong acids to weak acids, from weak bases to strong bases, without mixing any up.
Seraila, propping her cheeks under the light, watched happily. As the little snake tasted a drop, she followed suit; as it touched a drop, she took a sip...
"Hey, hey, hey! That’s concentrated sulfuric acid! You can’t drink that!"
"What? What?"
Seraila pursed her lips, her tongue lightly licking her palate:
"It doesn’t taste acidic?"
"Forget it, do as you please..."
Though he said do as you please, Garrett dared not try other reagents. What if the dragon race couldn’t withstand it? What if it blistered her tender lips and mucous mbranes?
Better switch to sothing safer...
He rummaged through his space bag, flipping out several test tubes. Blood, suspected hyperlipidemia; Blood, suspected gout; Blood, suspected diabetes; Blood, suspected anemia...
He set them up in a row, adding a test tube of normal blood, and pointed to the little snake:
"Go!"
In a short while, the little snake frantically transmitted a bunch of information:
"This one tastes bad! Bleh bleh bleh! A fatty taste!"
"This one tastes bad too! It’s like that—what you called acidic—but different..."
"This one’s so bland!"
"This one tastes good, kind of like that... that... what you said was sweet!"
Garrett was thrilled. The little snake was impressive! Though it couldn’t report specific values or perform quantitative analysis, it could at least qualify them!
A snake-shaped blood analyzer, indeed!
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