"How did it go? How did it go?"
As soon as Gret reached the foot of the mountain, his companions swarmed around him, eagerly asking questions. Gret lowered his head, looking a little dejected.
"Magister German said I could sit in on his lectures for now..."
He lowered his head and recounted the negotiations. To his surprise, his companions were all excited, especially Captain Karen and Young Priest John. Captain Karen had seen a lot of the world, and was the first to offer comfort.
"That's already a pretty good deal. Little Grete, you have no idea how many children from noble families in the city aren't even qualified to sit in on lectures at the Magic Tower!"
"And he's waived your tuition!"
The young priest cared more about that. He even brought up the experiences of his own companions to comfort Gret.
"There are plenty of distant noble relatives and knights' children at our temple who couldn't afford to study magic, so they had to come to the temple to train!"
Couldn't afford... to study magic?
Gret managed a weak smile. His tuition as an auditing student was waived, but he had to provide his own materials to copy spells. He didn't have to pay extra to attend Magister German's lectures, but heaven knew whether his disciples would be willing to help him if he didn't pay them.
He could swallow his pride and make do with black bread for meals, but was he supposed to run back and forth between the city and the Mage Tower every day?
Everything cost money.
And his predecessor's monthly salary was only five silver coins. After paying for enough food to fill his stomach, he could barely afford clothes made of rough hemp.
Gret was full of worries, but he didn't dare let them show, afraid Captain Karen and the others would worry too. He rode into the city with the squad, heading toward the barracks. As they went, he studied the streets, and the more he saw, the more worried he became.
The City Guard barracks were near the north gate. Gret and the others had entered through the west gate and were circling halfway around the city. The streets they passed weren't the busiest, but they shouldn't have been all that bad. Yet everywhere Gret looked, the roadsides were lined with dilapidated wooden houses, their windows and doors crooked and drafty.
The hems of the women's skirts were covered in patches upon patches. Gret saw a little girl of six or seven peering out from the doorway of a wooden house. When she noticed him looking, she shyly ducked back inside, then cautiously peeked out again. The hem of her dress was tattered, barely covering half her thighs. A younger boy played naked in a corner...
At the bakery on the street corner, almost all the loaves on display were black bread.
The streets weren't paved with stone, there were no drains along the sides, and there were no public sanitation facilities of any kind. Garbage lay in heaps and dirty water ran everywhere. The horses' hooves sank into a fresh mud pit with every step.
Blackish-yellow mud splattered up again and again. Gret really didn't want to think about what might be mixed into it.
In a word, poverty.
In such a poor city, Gret had no idea how much he could earn to support himself.
Hopefully the barracks would be a little more generous... No, even if they were, that had nothing to do with him. Were they going to give him a promotion and a raise, too?
He'd be spending every day at the Mage Tower from now on. He'd be lucky if the City Guard didn't fire him.
Uneasy, Gret followed Captain Karen into the barracks. His predecessor's memories gave him a general idea of what the place looked like, but once he stepped inside, he was still a little surprised.
The City Guard in Hartland City wasn't all that large, with only about two hundred people—not even as many as a county police department back in his previous life. Of course, whether this small city had as many people as a county back in his previous life was anybody's guess.
But it wasn't small, either. After all, all two hundred of them gathered, trained, and sparred on these grounds. Gret had already seen how powerful a knight was when he witnessed Roman Knight in action. They'd need plenty of room to throw their weight around...
Just like now. On the training field, which was even larger than a school's sports ground, two knights were fighting amid billowing clouds of dust. Gret could hear the boom of their weapons clashing from halfway across the field. Captain Karen stopped at once.
"The commander and Knight Xiluo are sparring! Our company captain's here, too. Come on, let's head over..."
The two hundred City Guards had one commander, Stephen Nolan, a seventh-level knight, and four company captains, all of whom had the strength of knights—around level five or higher as warriors. Gret vaguely remembered that his predecessor's father had also been a company captain in the City Guard before he died in battle.
As for old warriors like Uncle Karen, whose strength had never reached the level of a knight and whose bodies were starting to decline with age, they could only remain squad captains...
The company Captain Karen's squad belonged to was led by Knight Flynn, who looked to be about thirty-five or thirty-six, in the prime of his life. After hearing Captain Karen's report, he glanced toward the Spring Goddess's temple and sneered.
"So they say something and that makes it true? Do they think the City Guard is there for anyone to push around?"
Gret felt a little relieved. Knight Flynn beckoned him over and asked with a smile.
"You've figured out a healing spell? And you want to study magic, too? How many times a month will you be going?"
"Magister German said I could go every day," Gret answered honestly. Then he hesitated, looking embarrassed.
"Captain Flynn, could I... could I ask you a favor..."
"What is it?"
Knight Flynn asked with interest. Gret did his best not to blush.
"It's just that I'll be going to the Mage Tower to read these next few days, so I won't be able to go on patrol. Could you... not deduct my pay for now?"
In Gret's previous life, he'd never heard of taking a long leave without using paid time off and still expecting to get paid. He stammered awkwardly, struggling to get the words out. But as soon as he finished, Knight Flynn burst into laughter.
"Little Grete, you... you!"
Gret froze. Knight Flynn laughed so hard that tears came to his eyes. He wiped them away with one hand.
"You're worried about having your pay docked! Silly boy, you... you... Hahahahahaha!"
His laughter rang out across the field. The two knights sparring nearby were distracted, too. Knight Xiluo's weapon slowed, and he failed to block in time. With a bang, he was sent flying!
"Ah!!!"
The watching warriors cried out in alarm. A crowd of them rushed forward, and Gret had only taken a few steps when he heard someone shout at the top of their lungs.
"Priest! Get a priest!"
The voice was urgent and frantic. It sounded just like the families in the emergency department in his previous life, shouting for a doctor.
Gret quickened his pace. He pushed through the crowd and peered between the people. His breath caught in his throat.
The injured man was curled up on the ground, his lips blue-purple, both hands reaching desperately toward his chest. His eyes bulged like a goldfish's as he opened his mouth wide and gasped for air, as if he were about to suffocate. The veins in his neck stood out like earthworms. Sweat poured down his face as he struggled with all his might.
This was...
"Take his clothes off! Hurry!"
The warriors beside him were already tearing at the injured man's clothes before Gret could say anything. Among the warriors, removing an injured person's clothes right away so the priest could treat him was practically common sense. Once the clothes were off and the wound came into view, Gret's brow furrowed at once.
The injured man's chest was unnaturally deformed. His ribs were broken, his chest wall had caved in, and jagged bone ends were pushing up against the skin. More dangerously, the right side of his chest was abnormally swollen.
The gaps between several ribs were visibly wider. With every breath, the sunken area of his right chest alternately caved in and bulged out.
Taking into account his blue-purple lips, distended neck veins, and difficulty breathing, Gret immediately thought of a term:
Tension pneumothorax!
Before you continue