A Hospital in Another World? C.195

Just like the necromantic faction, within the elemental mage faction, more than one archmage had their eyes on Garrett.

There was Archmage Lorenz, the mentor of Garrett from Hartland City;

Archmage Carlisle who pulled him from the battlefield and brought him to the council headquarters;

Archmage Zeifal, specializing in sonic magic, who presented Garrett’s thesis to the council;

And then there was the one in the Tower of Heaven, even banging the table, keeping a close eye on Garrett’s movements, afraid he might slip away, even if it was just for the sake of his own reputation.

Naturally, once Garrett’s thesis was submitted, this news landed on the desks of all these archmages.

"The upgraded version of the Burning Hand? Is it the one I saw?"

Archmage Carlisle’s eyes gleamed.

He indeed detected powerful magical fluctuations on the magic compass and later witnessed the white flames spewing into the sky. One after another, it even burned down the renowned Sanctuary Spell of the Radiant Church, leaving a profound impression on him.

And back then, Garrett was just a level one apprentice mage; he couldn’t have been mistaken!

Unfortunately, the Magic Council guarded each mage’s unique magic very strictly. An unfamiliar mage, a mere level one apprentice, creating a powerful magic spell on his own, even Archmage Carlisle, despite being a level 14 archmage, couldn’t bring himself to deceive or coax the other party into handing over the magic.

He could only hope that the other party would finish writing the thesis soon, submit the magic to the council, so he could go through the proper channels to exchange for it...

"So, is this the white fire magic then? What about the attached magic? Has it not been approved yet?"

Archmage Carlisle tapped the table. A small bird with a fan-shaped crest on its head and three or four black and white stripes on its wings fluttered over and landed in his palm. Archmage Carlisle turned the bird in a direction facing its mouth and cleared his throat before speaking:

"Vincent, that upgraded version of the Burning Hand magic, the one Garrett Nordmark just submitted, if it’s approved, let me know, I’ll exchange for a copy."

The bird spread its wings and flew out. It returned shortly, opening its mouth. From its sharp, slightly curved beak came another deep male voice:

"A level one mage’s magic, and you’re urging me to approve it? Carlisle, you owe me a meal! Remember that bottle of wine you snagged last time! From the Melor Winery!"

Archmage Carlisle chuckled and shook his head. Just half an hour later, a woodpecker flew towards the magic barrier outside. Its hard beak continuously pecked against the barrier, its head bobbing up and down, almost leaving a blur:

"Knock knock knock knock knock knock..."

The pecking sounds intensified to about ten knocks per second. Archmage Carlisle rubbed his forehead and had to wave his hand to open the barrier. The woodpecker folded its wings and rushed in. Before it could steady itself, it eagerly opened its beak. The previously deep male voice now became sharp, and its speech rate doubled:

"Carlisle! Where did you find this kid! He’s boosted the Burning Hand from level one to level four with just a tweak! Level four! Is he your disciple? If not, I’ll take him under my wing!"

Alright, here comes another poacher...

Master Carlisle smirked. He handed a handful of crushed magic crystals to shoo away the woodpecker, then headed to the mage tower exchange office, brushing his own badge. However, the White Fire spell was nowhere to be found on the exchange list. Growing impatient, Carlisle decided to go directly to the 27th floor to ask Vincent for the thesis.

As soon as he stepped out of the elevator, he sensed something amiss. The atmosphere on the entire floor was unusually oppressive, like the feeling before a storm hits the shore, making it hard to breathe. Fifth, sixth, and even ninth-level mages passed by, all looking tense, instinctively walking along the edges of the corridor.

Frowning, Carlisle strode to Vincent’s office door and knocked. Before he could even strike the first blow, a furious roar erupted from inside:

"Get lost!"

"Vincent, it’s me, Carlisle!"

"Get out!!!"

Carlisle paused. Instinctively, he took two steps back, then stepped forward again, listening intently. Soon, he heard Vincent pacing back and forth inside, his footsteps echoing like thunder, moving frantically like a trapped beast:

"It can’t be... It can’t be like this... It’s impossible... But... But..."

"Vincent! What’s wrong with you!"

Carlisle raised his voice in concern. For a mage encountering novel and subversive theories, it could be both a boon and a bane:

If he could accept it smoothly, it could propel his magic forward by leaps and bounds, possibly becoming an opportunity for advancement;

But if this theory conflicted starkly with his existing beliefs, he would have to acknowledge its correctness, even if reluctantly...

The meditation environment of each mage was constructed based on their own understanding of the world. Beyond the fifth level, meditation environments tended to stabilize; beyond the tenth level, they began to materialize; and beyond the fifteenth level, a mage could even absorb external elements based on their meditation environment, directly constructing a semi-plane.

However, once the meditation environment, already solidified and stable enough, clashed with one’s understanding of the world, the mage could either stagnate or, worse, suffer severe consequences.

The development of the Magic Council, every advancement, every theoretical innovation, was built upon congealed blood and milky brain matter.

The footsteps and muttering continued in the room. Archmage Vincent circled seven or eight times, then suddenly jumped up:

"I need to verify it! Yes, I need to experimentally verify it! Before verification, I won’t believe anything! Someone! Prepare the equipment and materials according to this list for me!"

The office door burst open. Archmage Vincent strode out, his robe billowing, his brown beard exploding like a lion’s mane. Lower-ranking mages swarmed in, taking the list, organizing the experimental table, setting up retorts, and collecting samples...

Carlisle quietly stepped aside. 𝑓𝓇𝘦𝘦𝔀𝓮𝒷𝘯𝓸𝓋𝓮𝘭.𝓬𝓸𝘮

He and Vincent had been friends for many years. Sneaking into his office now, rifling through the thesis, the more he read, the more he frowned:

The Elemental Theory is wrong?

Is burning dependent on combustibles and that... that thing named O?

If this is true, it completely overturns the foundation of the elemental mage faction’s theories on combustion, on fire elements! And that apprentice named Garrett has already improved the Burning Hand spell according to this theory, personally verified by Vincent!

What should he do? He studied the branches of wind and water elements, while his old friend excelled in fire elements! Once a theory he had believed in for years was proven false, it would be almost a fatal blow to him!

Carlisle hesitated for a moment. Seeing that the glassware in the laboratory was ready, and the fire was lit, he had no choice but to make several copies of the thesis, tuck them into his robes, and head directly to the Tower of Heaven nearby:

"Master! Master! There’s an important thesis, please, you must take a look!"

Ten days later, on the 378th floor of the Tower of Heaven, the laboratory of legendary mages stood in profound silence. Led by the legendary mage of the Elemental School, Master Decart, followed by Master Carlisle, a dozen mages stood closely packed, their eyes fixed on Vincent, who was conducting experiments.

Mercury turned into red powder upon heating.

The volume of air in the container decreased by one-fifth.

The remaining gas couldn’t support combustion nor sustain animal respiration.

Upon further intense heating, the red powder decomposed into mercury and a gas, the volume of which precisely equaled the previously decreased volume.

Inserting a dying stick into the newly decomposed gas, it immediately ignited fiercely, emitting a dazzling blaze.

Using the newly decomposed gas as the spellcasting material, Vincent unleashed the enhanced Burning Hand spell, the power of White Fire nearly equivalent to a fourth-level Dragon’s Breath spell...

Every detail in the thesis was verified one by one.

Vincent’s complexion grew paler with each experiment. Trembling hands released the final spell, the White Light of the enhanced Burning Hand, leaving his lips as pale as paper. There were no more excuses, no more arguments; the essence of combustion, the essence of fire elements, indeed, was not elemental...

He subconsciously closed his eyes. In an instant, the fire elements in his meditation environment erupted violently.

"Vincent! Stop meditating!"

Master Decart thundered. His voice rolled like thunder, and simultaneously, the magic array in the laboratory pressed down, severing all elements within a one-square-meter radius. Vincent’s whole body shook, blood oozing from his nostrils and ears, collapsing weakly to the ground. Carlisle reflexively rushed to his aid, extending a supporting hand: "Master..."

But Master Decart paid him no heed. With a flick of his robe, the legendary mage levitated, stepping towards the floor-to-ceiling window. His left hand, trembling violently behind him, while his right hand extended forward and upward, pushing straight out—

"Boom!!!"

A deafening explosion shattered the dense clouds outside the Tower of Heaven.

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