Is it a building?

A VIP ward?

The casters all turned their gazes. The Priest of the War God slightly pursed his lips, seemingly about to say "wow" or whistle.

They had been working with Count Agel for a long time, and such grand gestures were indeed rare.

The magicians clicked their tongues lightly, as if they wanted to marvel, "Nobles really are rich." Garrett had heard about the cost of that hospital; it was no small sum.

For a pregnant woman, a fetus, to pay such a compensation to a level-six mage, tsk tsk...

The priest from the Spring Water Temple slightly turned his gaze, then lowered his head in silence, busying himself with his belt. Clearly, he was somewhat indifferent to the count’s lavish spending.

Garrett indeed wanted a VIP ward. Having fixed VIP wards meant he could treat a large number of high-end patients;

With more high-end patients, the body data of the professionals would naturally be in his hands in large quantities;

Moreover, high-end patients were generally quite wealthy. With more money, he could expand the project on a large scale, training midwives, aiming to benefit more expectant mothers...

But the condition for obtaining this building was to save this fetus?

Garrett pressed his lips tightly together, shaking his head decisively. A gentleman loves money and gets it in the right way; some money, if it cannot be earned, then it should not be.

"Why? Can’t you do it?"

Count Agel frowned slightly.

He looked around at the casters, who were clearly older and higher in casting level than Garrett. Perhaps, in terms of treatment, the higher-level healers were more reliable?

However, after all, it was Garrett who had made a clear diagnosis and even presented undeniable evidence. The count thought for a moment, then tentatively turned to Garrett, proposing a solution:

"Or, if it’s a matter of insufficient treatment quantity, why don’t you come up with a plan and let others help?"

Garrett still shook his head. Providing a plan was useless; so far, he had seen no divine art capable of operating at the genetic level.

Besides, the fetus was very likely already malformed...

But he had no evidence. His ultrasound magic level wasn’t up to the standard of four-dimensional color ultrasound; he couldn’t output images in real-time, nor could he confirm the internal conditions of the fetus’s organs and blood vessels. Medical textbooks from his previous life?

Those were even less likely to be brought out.

He racked his brains, thinking about how to convince the other party. Count Agel was puzzled: weren’t they just some blisters? If removed, wouldn’t that solve the problem? Oh... couldn’t divine arts achieve this?

He paced a few steps toward the window, turned his head back, and paced a few more steps. Standing in front of Garrett, his gaze was fervent:

"Even if divine arts can’t do it, Mage Nordmark, I remember you can open up a pregnant woman’s belly, take out the child, and then heal the wound without a trace. So, can you similarly open up the abdomen, remove those blisters, and then heal the uterus?"

Uh, your idea is really a bit fantastic. Garrett opened his mouth but before he could reply, Count Agel had already continued breathlessly:

"Even if they grow back later, we’ll do it again, we’ll do our utmost to save that child, can’t we really?"

This is the concept of intrauterine surgery... Garrett looked at the count with new respect. But still, he shook his head firmly, without hesitation:

"Your Excellency, I’m just a level-six caster, in terms of divine arts, in terms of magic, my knowledge is extremely limited. But, with my knowledge, this fetus can’t be saved, shouldn’t be saved."

He stepped back, bowed deeply:

"If you decide to let the lady give up on this child, I am willing to help as much as I can. If you insist on saving it, I really have no way. Those blisters, over time, will erode the mother’s body, harmful to the mother, I urge you, my lord... to make a decision early."

He stared at the count, one step, two steps, three steps, firmly retreating, reinforcing his stance with his actions. The count’s expression darkened, staring at Garrett for a while, then suddenly said:

"What if I let someone else do it? Mage Nordmark, would you be willing to provide guidance?"

Garrett stiffened. Providing guidance meant suggesting that doing so was meaningful; but not providing guidance?

For a novice, even a cesarean section wasn’t so easy, a slip of the hand could indeed be deadly!

Moreover, as clearly written in the textbook of gynecology:

"During the curettage process, if trophob

last cells enter the uterine sinuses causing pulmonary artery embolism, even acute respiratory distress and acute right heart failure, timely cardiovascular and respiratory support treatment must be provided."

"For safety, it is advised that if the uterus is greater than 16 weeks pregnant, or if there are complications, transfer to a hospital with treatment experience for the curettage."

Garrett had no experience in obstetric treatment. But, he believed that of all the people present, even in the entire world, no one understood emergency surgery during the procedure better than he did.

Stick to principles?

Or the life of the patient?

Garrett closed his eyes deeply. When he opened them again, his gaze was clear, unwavering:

"I’m sorry, Your Excellency, but I still stick to my opinion. If you insist on surgery, you can ask any of these healers present—or any healer you trust—to learn the surgical method from me."

He raised his hand and swept it across the few high-level healers present, including the disciples and students they brought along. Everyone was included, not a single one missed:

"I will teach everything I know, without holding back. But I will not perform the surgery myself, nor will I agree to provide guidance."

The count’s gaze followed his gesture. The medical mage was the first to step back:

"I trust Garrett’s judgment. I didn’t see the condition of the fetus, he did, he says it can’t be saved, then it definitely can’t be."

Beside him, Priest Gavin said nothing, also stepping back a step.

The bishop from the Temple of the War God shrugged his shoulders, spreading his hands, as if to say don’t look at me. I’m a priest of the War God, purely here to provide divine arts, knowing next to nothing about childbirth.

Why would I learn how to perform a cesarean section?

Count Agel’s hopeful gaze finally fell on the high priest from the Spring Water Temple.

The high priest’s deep blue silk robe fluttered slightly, and the daffodil petals on his belt shone brightly. He hesitated for a long while, finally nodding almost imperceptibly. Count Agel immediately breathed a sigh of relief:

"Then I entrust this to you!—Mage Nordmark, please teach him quickly, I will pay for the learning fees! How much? In gold coins, contribution points, or magical materials?"

"None of that." Garrett shook his head solemnly. He turned to the high priest, looking directly into his eyes:

"I will teach you in detail, without reservation, the knowledge related to cesarean section. As a price for learning this knowledge—please use this method to save the lives of 20 impoverished mothers each year, free of charge, without asking for anything in return."

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by Aunomay