Chapter 501: Wait, this isn’t the banner I wanted!

Garrett’s successful treatment this time could be described as a rise to fame overnight. As the clergy and guests from the evening returned home, his renown quickly spread among the nobility of Nevis City:

"Did you hear? Mage Nordmark healed the Cadelen family’s young son!"

"Did you hear? The newly born heir of the Cadelen family, born without the ’whatnot,’ was cured by the healer who developed the cowpox remedy!"

"Did you hear? Several high bishops from the great temples were there, all said there was no hope, just waiting for death. But Mage Nordmark stepped in and miraculously saved him!—Truly a disciple of the Lord of Thunder!"

"…Wait, what does the Lord of Thunder have to do with this? I thought the school of energy sculpting wasn’t known for healing spells?"

"Hey, even legendary mages in fields they’re not good at are still better than you!"

Regardless, Garrett’s surge in reputation was meteoric. Not only did his reputation skyrocket, but he also ventured into domains he had never touched before:

Previously, Garrett’s reputation in healing was mostly as "a magician who fiddles with odd things." These things could achieve the effects of healing spells and did so swiftly, efficiently, and painlessly.

Things like penicillin, cowpox, public toilets, biogas for hot water supply, all meant only for the poor. Noblemen wouldn’t bother using them!

But this time, the high bishops were helpless, deeming the child’s case hopeless, yet Garrett managed to save him!

And reportedly, the entire treatment process was quiet from start to finish. The highest level of divine magic used was a third-tier peace spell...

Historically, for such severe diseases, aside from limited wish spells or even more powerful major wish spells, who could save such a life!

Overall, the situation fermented and the spread of his fame far exceeded Garrett’s expectations. Moreover, after two days of word-of-mouth, his reputation as a "miracle healer" exploded suddenly:

When Garrett was brought back to the Mage Tower by Archmage Novak, after a good sleep in the tower to restore his energy and adjust to the time difference, he was stunned to see, upon arriving at the hospital the next day, a Red Cross banner approaching from afar…

The banner was brilliantly radiant. Under the sun, it shimmered from a distance, as if woven with gold and silver threads—or perhaps enchanted with a permanent glitter spell?

The banners grew closer. Soon, Garrett saw two knights, side by side on horseback. One held high the Red Cross banner, the other bore a complexly patterned banner, seemingly of some noble family’s war flag?

Garrett, whose grades in heraldry were not just average but terrible—since the Magic Council didn’t test on it and mages relied on their casting abilities to make their mark, not caring much about noble lineages—thus stared at the family war flag, feeling it somewhat familiar:

Is that ring made of wheat sheaves, pine branches, or thorns? Is that a flower, a daffodil or an iris? And that animal, distinguishing whether it’s a tiger or a lion was too difficult for him…

Following the two knights was a squadron of cavalry, and behind them, a group of nobles’ servants, escorting a line of supply wagons.

Arriving at the hospital entrance, the flag-bearing knights split to each side, and Viscount Cadelen stepped forward, taking the Red Cross banner from the knight, and held it high:

"Respected Mage Nordmark, thank you for treating my child two days ago. On behalf of my family, I present this banner to you!"

"A banner?"

Garrett slowly opened his mouth wide.

What, a banner?

This white satin banner, with a big red cross affixed from a great distance, visible by its reflection, you call this a banner?

This isn’t what I wanted!

I wanted that kind—deep red velvet with golden yellow borders, with words like "High Moral Standing, Exquisite Medical Skill," "Benevolent Heart, Miraculous Rejuvenation," words that the medical department can photograph, that can hang on the clinic wall!

Seeing his astonishment, Viscount Cadelen’s smile also stiffened. What are you doing?

Weren’t you the one who wanted a banner?

—Given your status, asking for a satin banner is already strange! If you hadn’t specified, we wouldn’t have sent it!

Nobles’ castles and armies are accustomed to using banners, but the materials are usually common. The poor use burlap banners, the wealthy use silk. As for satin banners…

Apart from the royal family, families wealthy enough to afford such are few and far between.

And mages, mages prefer arcane seals. After all, mages don

’t lead armies; at most, they have a few followers who carry banners wherever they go, which they see as quite foolish…

You ask for a satin banner—are you some fugitive prince of a country, or as a mage, do you simply not care about money?

But the banner, Viscount Cadelen couldn’t just not deliver it. After all, it was his family who asked first, and after they asked, Garrett immediately requested this…

If he had known this would happen, it would have been better to just give money directly!

But really, you can’t just give money directly. They asked Archmage Novak about the payment issue, precisely because calculating the compensation was tricky.

Among nobles and spellcasters, there’s a customary way to calculate healing costs:

For example, a potion for treating severe injuries might be priced at 750 gold coins, so a standard spellcasting session would cost the same. If you hire a high-level healer, the fee increases according to the recipient’s rank.

Like if a viscount asks someone to make a house call late at night, even if the healer didn’t cure or even attempt to heal, they would at least get a travel fee…

But Garrett, how much should be given this time?

In terms of spellcasting, besides accelerating the growth of vines, he hadn’t made any obvious spellcasting gestures, at most a few minor healing spells;

In terms of not spellcasting, obviously, everyone saw Garrett’s consumption during the treatment and the results...

That’s hard to price.

And directly giving money also looks bad. Inviting clergy for treatment is done in the name of devotion to the gods, directly delivered to the temple. Inviting a mage, it’s more likely to gift magical materials than money.

Directly handing over money for goods?

It makes it seem like others are desperately short of money! Garrett, after all, is a disciple of the Lord of Thunder, you can’t disrespect him like that!

No choice, you have to do your best to deliver what was specifically requested. Not only do it well but also deliver it as quickly as possible. Delaying for ten days, half a month, a month—are you really sending it, or not?

To make this banner, Viscount Cadelen’s steward and staff racked their brains, scratched their heads:

How big should the banner be? What is the Nordmark family crest?

Should the crest be embroidered, or woven directly during fabrication?

The banner also needed a phrase; what should it say?

Finally, balancing aesthetics, sophistication, and production speed, Viscount Cadelen’s family could only come up with a rushed solution:

Use plain white satin as the base, snip, snip, cut out the center piece. Cut a cross from bright red satin, sew it directly on top…

As for embroidering a phrase, forget it, wait a bit. Get the banner made, send it over to show sincerity, and once communication is clear, find an embroiderer to add it.

After all, silk is already expensive, and damask even more so. A banner three feet long and two feet wide already costs thousands of gold coins; better not to waste it.

Garrett was confused for a second, then quickly put on a smile. He hurried down the steps and took the banner with both hands. Viscount Cadelen and he stepped up the stairs side by side, turning around, both displaying brilliant smiles—

Just short of someone coming up to take a photograph. Ah, this world doesn’t have medical offices or cameras...

Well, no matter how off this banner was, its promotional effect was still quite good. Garrett looked over the heads of the knights and servants, gazing into the distance:

Across the street, a huge crowd gathered, a dense mass of people. There were those in tattered clothes and those in splendid attire. It seems the viscount’s banner delivery was noisy enough to attract quite a crowd of onlookers.

Today, hang the banner in the main hall!

Assign someone, every time a patient comes in, to retell the recent cases!

The viscount’s family is really on point. Not only did they parade the family banner through the streets to deliver Garrett’s banner, but they also dragged along several wagons of gifts. Viscount Cadelen, joyful for his newborn son, was all smiles:

“These items are donated to the medical facility for research into healing techniques and for providing food and daily necessities to poor patients. Please do not refuse, let our family also contribute a bit to the city’s charitable causes.”

So this is the consultation fee?

Hmm, paying the consultation fee in the form of charitable donations is also a common practice among nobles and the wealthy...

Garrett, receiving an unexpected windfall, was in high spirits, smilingly inviting Viscount Cadelen inside. A patron after all, he deserves good treatment, even if not expecting donations, but hoping he’d spread the word and attract more donations!

Garrett pointed things out along the way, showing the viscount various

aspects of the hospital. There were deer antlers embedded in the walls (eighth-level magical beast materials!);

There were consultation rooms lined up next to the main hall (each staffed by an official priest);

There was the heavily guarded backyard, where about ten mages and mage apprentices busily went in and out, developing a rabies vaccine…

Whether Viscount His Excellency was sincerely impressed or just overly enthusiastic, he exclaimed continuously. After a complete tour, he found a secluded spot and mysteriously pulled Garrett aside:

“Mage Nordmark, are there diseases that healing spells can’t cure, or where the healing effect is poor, that you can treat here?”

“This… it depends on the situation, I’m just a level 5 priest…”

“Then, a friend of mine, someone with injuries or diseases that haven’t responded well to treatment, can I refer them to you?”

Garrett’s eyes lit up.

New patients being referred!

New nobles, wealthy people to shear for wool, to raise funds for the treatment of poor patients!

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