"I'm exhausted..."
"Totally wiped out..."
"Feel like my body is drained..."
Garrett spread his limbs and lay in the soft grass, groaning. In one day, he had run around the bay, visiting four quarantine zones, and accelerated the growth of plants four tis—
Two of the quarantine zones were for the poor, with a wide coverage but lower quality requirents. Basic fences made of ordinary plants and apprentice-level soothing herbs were sufficient for calming the mind;
One quarantine zone was for artisans, craftsn, and wealthy rchants, covering only a quarter of the poor's area. These people were generally healthier and often had so magical artifacts, so the quality of the plants had to be slightly higher;
The last one was for the noble army from Nederland, here for rest, treatnt, and ship repairs. This quarantine zone—
"Why am I so tired... Why am I so tired... When I accelerated the growth of an entire mountain's worth of thorns in the Land of Inheritance, I wasn't this tired..."
That's because, in the Land of Inheritance, most of the spell consumption was borne by the oak trees...
Bernard silently muttered to himself, supporting his knees and bending down to check on his boss. He looked pale, sweating profusely, and his voice was trembling. But since he was still able to complain, it ant his energy wasn't completely drained.
According to the boss's usual standards, it shouldn't be necessary to drag him for ergency treatnt yet.
"Boss, do you want to drink a glass of... glucose water?"
"No!!!"
Garrett scread as if his tail had been stepped on. Are you kidding? In his previous life, after exhausting himself from surgery, suffering from low blood sugar, he would drink glucose water. In this life, after exhausting himself from casting spells, lying down, should he drink glucose water again?
What have I done to deserve this torture! The taste of glucose water is terrible, strange, and it scratches the throat when drunk!
Even though in this world, all glucose is produced by my Mage Tower, and no one would say, "Does this bottle of water count as part of the surgery fee..." it doesn't change the fact that it tastes disgusting!
As soon as he yelled out, his mouth cooled, followed by a "crunch" sound, and his upper and lower jaws were pinched together. Garrett was caught off guard, his teeth clamped together, and a burst of juice splashed out, the sourness shooting straight to his brain—
"Mmmmm!"
Garrett's eyes widened, his cheeks twitched. He instinctively wanted to spit it out but couldn't, wanted to swallow...
"Cough, cough, cough!"
Not good, almost choked into the trachea!
Garrett rolled over onto the lawn, coughing his lungs out. Cirilla squatted beside him, continuously patting his back:
"Oh dear, oh dear... Sorry, my hand was too quick... Are you okay now? Feeling better?"
Garrett coughed for a long ti before raising his tearful eyes, supporting himself on the ground and taking a few breaths:
"Cirilla... where did you get this fruit... who gave it to you... why is it exactly like the one my teacher used to sour last ti..."
It woke him up instantly, refreshed his mind, and quickly replenished his ntal power. Just one fruit, and before he even finished eating it, he already felt his mind clearing, limbs strengthening, and no more cold sweats. Feeling drained? Nonexistent!
"Hee hee, it was given to by your teacher last ti when we went back to your hotown." Cirilla squatted beside him, chuckling:
"The elder said these fruits were carefully cultivated by him, eating one would fully replenish exhausted ntal power! Don't waste it, chew it up!"
"Chew what? My teeth are already soft..."
Such a sour fruit, would it corrode the enal? Enal, once eroded, cannot regenerate! Well, maybe in this world, there's a way to grow a tooth directly with a healing spell?
Anyway, in one day, Garrett had visited all the quarantine inspection points around the bay. He confird personnel arrangents, material reserves, operational procedures, and made up for any gaps. Finally, the day of effectiveness testing arrived—
"Hurry! Hurry! Everyone, move! The ship has arrived!"
At the village entrance lookout tower, the guard soldier shouted loudly. As he shouted, he picked up sothing unknown—maybe a gong—maybe a basin—and banged it.
Imdiately, a team of soldiers and villagers rushed out from the quarantine zone. Under the soldiers' guidance, villagers moved tables, chairs, various supplies, opened water gates, and released water... In the specially set-up kitchen, smoke started to rise.
A chaotic bustle ensued. Before they finished, a weather-beaten wooden ship swayed into the dock.
"This ship is pretty big, I wonder how many people will co down..."
The leading mage beside Garrett stood on tiptoes, stretching his neck to look from afar. Garrett gently shook his head:
"Not big, only about 100 tons. It can hold a hundred people at most... at most... two... hundred..."
His voice trailed off. On the deck, a large group of people poured out, walking cautiously along the gangway. One group disembarked, followed by another, and another, and another...
...Alright, my previous estimate of mariti mortality was based on two months of sea transportation, ensuring more people survived to reach the destination. From Nederland to Kent Kingdom, how many days does it take?
The narrowest part of the Holsea Strait is only a few kiloters, with favorable winds, it can be crossed in a day; to Inverness is farther, but it won't exceed ten days anyway?
In that case, the mortality rate would significantly decrease, naturally, more people could be loaded.
Garrett took a deep breath and stepped forward. A large number of weather-beaten poor people with terrified faces were driven down like ducks. As soon as they stepped onto the pier, soldiers rushed up, shouting:
"This way! This way!—Line up, don't push, I'm talking to you!"
Pushing and shoving, cramming and squeezing. The leading mage quickly stepped forward, and the priest who had just arrived at the quarantine point also stood out, silently activating the Life Observation Spell—
"Third row in the middle! Wearing gray clothes, with a limp!"
"Fourth row, second from the left! Holding a child!"
"Seventh row, first on the right..."
The priest identified individuals, the mage cast spells, and soldiers pulled people. For a mont, cries and shouts erupted in the crowd, so running, so blocking, so desperately diving into the crowd—
The soldiers pulling people shouted at the top of their lungs:
"Don't run! Don't run! These are all sick people! We're pulling them out to treat them separately, they'll be released after treatnt!"
No one listened to him! Garrett even heard the feedback from the poor people, crying, shouting, a chaotic ss, feeling like they weren't even speaking the sa language as the soldiers giving orders...
This is bad, as expected, I lack experience, didn't account for the language barrier. Sigh, many things can only be realized after practical experience, determining where the problems lie.
Garrett silently sighed. He took a few steps forward, didn't step out to shout, and knelt quietly on the ground. He pressed his hand to the grass, silently praying—
After a while, a gentle breeze blew from the land to the port, and everyone instinctively took a deep breath, showing peaceful and slightly serene smiles.
Only then did Garrett stand up. He cast a Flight Spell on himself, flying to the front of the pier, looking down. Without needing to speak, he already received a bunch of awe-filled glances:
Flying is the ultimate authority!
Flying is power!
Even the most ignorant poor people, not knowing this is an exclusive skill for fifth-level or above mages, would know that a powerful figure had arrived, soone they absolutely couldn't provoke!
"Who can speak the Nederland language!"
Garrett looked down, casting Amplification Spell on himself, and slowly asked. The soldiers and villagers glanced around, whispering, everyone shrinking back.
Finally, a small person timidly stepped out:
"Sir, I know a little... I worked at Inverness port, delivered food and water to fishing boats there, could chat a bit with them..."
Involving economic matters, with a large crowd at the pier, Garrett had no ti to listen to his foreign language background. He simply waved his hand:
"You step out and translate for them!—Among you, who can speak the Kent Kingdom language? Step out and help, each al will have an extra bread!"
This ti, he spoke to the Nederland poor. As a mage, with various spells supporting him, language conversion was unimpeded. Garrett didn't even need to spend additional ti learning another language...
Fortunately, there were many fishern among the Nederland poor who traveled between the two places, or had dealt with rchants from the Kent Kingdom. Garrett's shout, even without heavy rewards, only costing a bread per al, recruited seven or eight people:
"You, follow that person, repeat his words to your compatriots! Maintain their order!"
With soone diating, the crowd gradually quieted down. The leading mage breathed a sigh of relief, quickly arranging for the sick to be carried away to a small house on the other side, waiting for the herbalist to co and treat them.
The crowd continued to move forward. Before long, another commotion arose in another area. In front of the segregated baths, a woman with disheveled hair and clothes burst out:
"Don't go in!—They're going to strip us! Shave our heads!"
With a crash, the crowd erupted. Those near the baths turned back, those not yet close ran to the sides
, the gangway, the ship...
"Plop, plop, plop..."
In the midst of trampling and crying, Garrett glanced and saw at least three people falling off the dock...
Why bother, why bother!
At least the water in the bath was warm, the sea water here is freezing cold!
At this point, he didn't even want to soothe anyone. Seeing a mage and a priest retreating below, he quickly recalled their levels, pointed at them:
Web Spell!
Control them first, then persuade slowly! Physical persuasion, magical persuasion, first don't let them escape and trample each other, causing a bunch of injuries!
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