Chapter 615: The Child That’s Hard to Save

A Hospital in Another World?

Garrett Nordmark had dealings with Count Agar.

Count Agar was one of the most influential local lords, deeply rooted and personally strong—a 15th-level grand knight. His burly physique and booming voice made the ground tremble with his every step, resembling a bear.

Garrett had met him during a meeting to promote cowpox vaccinations. The Count strode in furiously, his voice thunderous enough to nearly overturn the heavy conference table—

Actually, his intentions were good; he was there to warn them that someone was tampering behind the scenes. But to the uninformed, it looked like he was about to give Garrett a beating.

Respect was due to such a man, and favors had to be acknowledged. Garrett got into his carriage, with Bernard riding Apar behind him, departing in a winding trail—

The Silvermoon Deer, having not been ridden by Garrett, was greatly dissatisfied and nudged him repeatedly with its nose.

The carriage rattled into the mansion. Garrett followed the leading knight swiftly upstairs and into a large room, where Count Agar stood imposingly, his thick brows furrowed. The whole atmosphere around him was somber, as if enveloped in an invisible gloom.

A curtain divided the room into two areas. Shadowy figures moved vaguely inside, and a woman’s crisp voice spoke softly. In the outer area, a circle of healers sat on sofas. Garrett glanced around, recognizing almost everyone.

Priests from the Temple of the God of War, the Church of the Nature God, and the Temple of the Spring Goddess were all present, along with two medical mages. The gold embroidery on their chests, sleeves, and belts indicated that the leaders were at least level 10.

This level of assembly was even more lavish than the one at that viscount’s house—the one with the child who had congenital anal atresia. It seemed the situation with the Count’s female relatives was truly troubling...

Garrett thought to himself as he approached Count Agar. The Count took large strides forward and shook his hand simply, nodding deeply:

“My daughter returned to her parental home to recuperate two months ago after losing her husband. Lately, her condition has worsened, and we had no choice but to call you all here. Please, save her—and if possible, her child as well.”

After speaking, he gestured with his hand, and a maid immediately turned to Garrett, curtsying and leading him toward the curtain. As they passed the sofa area, the seven or eight healers whispered among themselves, discussing nonstop:

“I sense something is off. The life force in her is very weak, not what you’d expect from a strong child.”

“Maybe it’s just the mother who is weakening?”

“Do I sense a curse? Is that possible?”

I don’t know much about curses… This is beyond my handling...

Garrett nodded to them and followed the maid behind the curtain, where he saw a woman in her twenties lying on a bed. Her face was pale, swollen, and her hands, exposed outside the blanket, were so pale that the veins on the back were distinctly visible.

Beside her sat a priestess from the Temple of the Spring Goddess, holding her hand and speaking softly, continuously comforting her. Occasionally, a soft white light rose from her fingertips, sprinkling onto the pregnant woman, slightly improving her complexion each time.

Garrett frowned slightly. Divine magic was immediate in effect but truly taxing on the vital energies. According to Garrett’s understanding, this likely sped up metabolism and healing at the cost of significant nutrients.

The patient was already weak, and continually using divine magic on her was like quenching thirst with poison.

He sat down by the bed, smiling warmly:

“Madam, I’m Priest Garrett Nordmark, invited by your father to examine you. How many months pregnant are you? And where do you feel uncomfortable?”

“Caroline Agar Womit,” the pregnant woman replied faintly. After pausing and catching her breath, she closed her eyes for a moment, struggling to nod to the priestess beside her:

“You speak…”

“Miss Caroline is five months pregnant,” the priestess took over quietly:

“Since losing her husband two months ago, her sorrow has severely impacted her health. The pregnancy has been unstable, and she has been bedridden for the past half month.”

Five months pregnant, unstable fetal image, prolonged bedrest to preserve the pregnancy. Garrett thought briefly:

“May I look at her abdomen? Can we lift the blanket?”

“Is that... appropriate? Can’t you sense her life force?”

Actually, I can’t. Garrett’s weakness was such that Elder Elwin once joked that even a log was better than him—a log at least feels the sun and the rain. He shook his head slightly:

“Then let’s try this: please extend an arm so I can measure your blood pressure?”

Blood pressure 140/88, heart

rate 77, still within the normal range. But the following examinations were refused by both the priestess and the pregnant woman. Garrett had to turn around, pulling out a stethoscope:

“Then how about this: I’ll turn my back, not looking at anything. Please place this disc on her lower abdomen, around the navel, and move it slowly. I’ll tell you when to stop—is that alright?”

The priestess reluctantly agreed. Garrett turned his back to the bed, closed his eyes, and concentrated on listening. Soon he frowned:

“Madam, are you sure you placed the disc correctly?”

“Of course!”

The priestess replied without hesitation. Garrett shook his head, still facing away:

“No, that’s not right. What I’m hearing is bowel sounds, very clear and normal bowel sounds. Given this lady’s weakness, it shouldn’t sound like this—did you perhaps test me by placing it on yourself?”

Unseen to him, the priestess raised her thumb slightly to the pregnant woman and mouthed:

“He’s quite skilled…”

The chest piece of the stethoscope was lifted and set down again, and this time, it was in the right place. Garrett, with closed eyes, directed the priestess to move the stethoscope slowly around the woman’s navel, listening attentively:

“The fetal heartbeat is very weak... At five months, it shouldn’t be like this... May I touch the stomach? I can cover my eyes, but I must touch the skin directly...”

“No! No!”

Miss Caroline cried out sharply. After several shouts, her face turned pale, and she bent over to vomit. The priestess quickly rubbed her chest and patted her back, while maids rushed with copper basins, hot water, and towels, causing chaos:

“Miss! Please, don’t get agitated! Miss!—You, leave! The miss is bleeding!”

Garrett was promptly pushed outside the curtain. Facing away from the curtain, he mulled silently:

Five months along, the mother’s body weak, still vomiting, bleeding, it’s hard to keep this child... Later, we must try to do an ultrasound...

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by Aunomay