Chapter 328 I Have No More Magic, but I Can Still Save People

Never underestimate a magician, no matter how low his level.

This is the code of conduct that every magician who has experienced orthodox education has been taught. The power of a magician comes from wisdom and creativity. Even a low-level magician or even a magician apprentice may have his own unique secrets. The secret of a mage apprentice may not be solved instantly by a great magician.

If Gretel knew about this rule, he would definitely have the following translation: Elementary school math Olympiad problems and limited problem-solving methods may not be possible for college students.

Archmage Edgar walked around the cave several times. A series of detection magics were fired, but no trace could be found. It was obvious that the colleague had cleared his tail. He thought for a while, finally left the cave, found another place to open the mage shelter, and went in to spend the night.

——This cave was developed by the Order of the God of Nature, and the magic environment inside is closer to nature and life. For the Necromancer, although it is not uncomfortable to live in, it will slightly affect his performance. If an enemy comes over, this slight difference may mean the difference between life and death.

Archmage Edgar has been in battle for a long time, so of course it is impossible to ignore this. Although according to his intuition, it is unlikely that the colleague will come back and take action, a magician should never put his life on "should" or "maybe" just because he is lazy.

Archmage Edgar recharged his batteries, preparing to regroup the next day and find another way. But in the infectious disease hospital, Gretel's battle was far from over.

——In the eight spell rooms, the spell casters stopped working one after another. Even a group of high-level healers of level 7, 8, or even level 10 or above must be ready to deal with the splattering blood within five or six hours and hold on to the life that is about to disappear, which consumes their energy and attention. The end.

"I can't do it anymore." Bishop Sullivan was the first to withdraw. His healing skills were only 20% left, but after a few rounds of treatment, he felt dizzy and on the verge of collapse. He stopped and exited, and sat down in the rest area outside. After a while, the sofa beside him sank, and a somewhat familiar priest sat next to him.

The third, the fourth. People kept quitting, and the groups in the operating room split up and regrouped, regrouped and then split up. Finally, the eight operating rooms were cleared one after another, leaving only operating room No. 1, where voices continued to sound.

"Send the patient."

"Cleaning Technique."

"Throw a healing spell here."

"Throw another one away."

"Saline rinse."

"Okay, attract."

"The abdomen can be closed now. The treatment will continue, thank you."

"Send the patient down. Next one."

"The next one."

"...How long have they been doing this?" Next to Bishop Sullivan, a fifth-level priest stretched his head in and was slightly speechless. "I'm not surprised by the Archbishop and the High Priest, but if I remember correctly, that little mage is only at level three, right?"

"Yes, level three." There was not much surprise in the Bishop's voice. The day he met Grete, Grete stayed up late at night to perform surgery for a crew member. After that, I copied and wrote and explained the operation process to him. I was busy almost all night.

For a crew member to be able to do this, with so many patients in front of him, how could Gretel stop?

"But... his magic should have been gone long ago, right?"

Gretel's magic has indeed been exhausted.

He is only a third-level mage with only a small amount of mental power. Even though his mental strength is stronger than ordinary people, and he tries his best to only use low-level magic such as mage's hand and magic tricks, the huge number of patients has already drained his mana.

Since before Wutai's surgery, he had stopped casting spells and relied solely on his hands for treatment.

"Here, get a plate to hold it up."

"Let's do some healing."

"Help me get the blood vessel clamp... Can you use the mage's hand to clamp the blood vessel? That's fine, but be careful not to use too much force or damage the blood vessel wall..."

"That's it...send the patient down, you two have a rest, I'll wash my hands..."

Grete raised a tired smile and shuffled towards the sink. The main protagonist of the Temple of the God of War really can’t stand it anymore:

"Little Grete, that's it for today, right?"

The caster has a stipulation that the battle ends when the mage slots are exhausted. Of course, he could also understand Gretel's persistence: On the battlefield, the God of War priest had exhausted his spell slots, and might still carry a flail to fight on the front line, or treat the wounds of his comrades.

But such a delicate and complicated operation?

This is too much of a mental burden!

By forcing the caster to do this, he is simply making fun of his own foundation and future!

"Your Majesty the Archbishop, I can still hold on." Gretel replied in a hoarse voice. His face was pale and his hair was wet on his forehead. After washing his hands, he poured a handful of cold water on his face and rubbed his cheeks hard, which made his face look rosier. He put on his mask and surgical cap again, and the mage who was watching threw him a bubble spell:

"Little Grete, you have used up all your spells, take a rest!"

"But, there are still patients waiting." Grete looked back at the corridor. There are seventeen or eighteen stretchers parked there. In other words, there are seventeen or eight patients and seventeen or eight lives——

This must not be left alone!

"Don't worry! I can do this part without any healing skills or any extraordinary abilities. After treating this group of people, I can survive."

Gretel turned and walked inside. There is no mage's hands, no cleaning skills, he still has his own hands, and the surgical instruments that have just been sterilized. For more than ten years in his previous life, he, his colleagues, and his teachers have treated countless patients without any treatment skills. There is no reason why he can't do it now!

Gretel's steps were very slow, and he even staggered a little in the first two steps. After the two steps, he became more and more steady. Walking into the operating room, he raised the scalpel and made a steady cut.

"What a natural healer," exclaimed Bishop Sullivan. When he had just become the God of War Priest and followed him to the battlefield, he once dragged the wounded soldiers back desperately and stayed up late at night to clean and bandage the wounded soldiers. But then, meditate on time, get enough sleep, maintain your status and image as a bishop...

How long has it been since he worked so hard to treat patients?

He wanted to go over and help, but when he propped himself up on the armrest of the sofa, his head felt dizzy. His eyes went dark, and Bishop Sullivan closed his eyes subconsciously. When he opened them again, he found that he was not overworked: a black-robed mage silently floated past in front of him.

Gretel cuts open the patient's abdominal skin. When the dissection was about to continue, a familiar sound of footsteps slowly approached behind me:

"Let me do it."

Grete turned back. A somewhat familiar golden skeleton - it looked like Linn's model - stood beside him. Behind the skeleton, a disciple brought by Archmage Edgar smiled at him:

"Just rest and let me do it - I can at least help with the disembowelment."

"Me too, I can at least help with the flushing and closing of the abdomen." Another priest in light blue robes stood at the door. Before Grete could thank him, a third spellcaster came over and paused slightly at the door of the first surgery room. Nod to him:

"You may have to do the most troublesome part. My attention is really unbearable. However, we can save some of your time by finishing the before and after."

One drives the other, one inspires the other. Necromancers, priests, and priests got up one after another and walked to the magic rooms they were responsible for. The shouts came and went:

"Send the patient!"

"Send the patient!"

****

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