Chapter 213

Chapter 213

With the endotracheal tube in place, fresh air flowed into the airway, and the complexion of Aurora Worton immediately eased. His hands, which had been clawing at his throat, fell relaxed by his sides as a steady stream of air flowed through his airway. Garrett Nordmark helped him sit up, and surprisingly, he managed to remain seated while breathing.

The most nerve-wracking and critical moment had passed. Garrett breathed a sigh of relief and began urging loudly, "Is the workstation ready?"

Whether it was mild, moderate, or severe chlorine poisoning, oxygen therapy was crucial. However, Garrett didn’t have pure oxygen on hand...

As the saying goes, when you’re desperate, you make do with what you have. Garrett could only wait anxiously here while directing the mages to electrolyze water on-site. Not only did he have to direct them, but he also had to instruct them on how to test it: "The gases produced by two graphite rods are different! Remember to check! One will ignite with a blue flame, while the other will cause the flame to suddenly increase when a wooden stick is inserted! I want the one that increases the flame! Collect a bottle of it and bring it to me quickly!"

"How troublesome!" The silver-haired mage assigned to perform gas extraction waved his hand dismissively, and two identification spells flew over...

"It’s this one! The flame of ignition! Quickly collect a bottle and bring it over!"

Garrett: "...So, it’s been several months, and you still haven’t given it a name?"

But that wasn’t a big deal. Whether it was called the flame of ignition or the breath of life, it didn’t matter. As long as they quickly gave him a bottle of pure oxygen, they could call it whatever they liked.

He reached around his waist and first pulled out a large stick—a stethoscope in the form of a copper tube. Having a space bag would have been great; then he could carry all these necessary tools with him... emmmm, there was some wet rales in the lungs, fortunately not diffuse, and it wasn’t considered severe chlorine poisoning. Even so, it was best to give him oxygen quickly!

"Is it ready over there?"

"Not yet! Only halfway through!"

The speed of producing oxygen was quite annoying. But Garrett couldn’t intervene too much, mainly because he didn’t know if increasing the voltage or current would improve oxygen production efficiency or blow up the oxygen generator first. He could only rely on himself, work hard, and start with a healing spell on the patient’s lungs.

Seems like there was no response. Another one? ... Another one?

He cast five "minor healings" in a row. The wet rales under the stethoscope finally lessened a bit, seeming to indicate a transition to dry rales. Garrett felt a slight dizziness and a throbbing sensation in his temples. He knew he had overused magic in a short period. He dared not release another healing spell, so he withdrew the stethoscope, rummaged through it, and then threw out a bunch of stuff.

Dwarf version of a ventilator!

Uh... let’s skip the bucket for now, and the face mask too. Just use the air pump and rubber hose for now...

The group of mages gathered around, stretching their necks to watch curiously but fearing to disturb Garrett’s treatment, not daring to approach within two meters. Only one mage rushed over from the workstation:Geett the latest novels at novelhall.com

"It’s ready! Here’s the first bottle! You use it first!"

"Good!" Garrett responded, quickly calculating. The air pump was relatively large, and the volume of the oxygen cylinder was about half that of the air pump... at most sixty percent, right? That should be enough. In any case, for high-flow oxygen therapy like this, the oxygen volume fraction should be at most 70%, pure oxygen shouldn’t be used. So, next is...

He pointed at the air pump of the ventilator and shouted, "Who will help me transfer the gas into here!"

Five or six hands stretched out like a forest, hesitated for a moment, and the mage squatting in the middle "clapped", "clapped", "clapped", knocking away the hands of his companions and took two steps forward:

"I will! I specialize in wind magic!"

"It’s you! Hurry up!"

Garrett simply handed him a bottle of oxygen. He himself reached out and picked up the endotracheal tube, tapped it gently on the soft vine at the end, the vine elongated, expanded, wrapped around the rubber hose, and quickly tightened. While he finished here, the wind mage happened to finish his work:

"It’s done!"

"Well, you listen to the breath sounds, they’re different on both sides..."

Garrett generously handed him the stethoscope, then tore off the endotracheal tube and removed the connected air pump. Since one lobe of the lung had already healed, continuing to administer oxygen was unnecessary and could even be harmful. When the senior mage finished listening to the breath sounds on both sides and reached out to press on the patient’s right chest, Garrett crouched beside him, pointing to the patient’s throat:

"He’s also got a problem here, his throat is swollen, he can’t breathe... Master, could you please heal his throat? Once it’s healed, I can remove the tube!"

The senior mage of magic looked at him deeply, lightly touched the patient’s throat, closed his eyes to sense for a moment, and then threw another healing spell. Garrett confirmed that the swelling in the throat had disappeared, nudged forward, and held the endotracheal tube with both hands:

"Shrink, revert..."

The tender green vines swayed gently. Inch by inch, they were pulled out from the patient’s trachea and returned to seeds in Garrett’s hands.

"All done! I’ll take care of the rest!"

The senior mage’s palm was already raised, and then gently lowered. With a curious gaze that seemed to ask why he dared to compete with him, he glanced at Garrett. Garrett smiled at him, lowered his head, and pointed to the patient’s neck from a distance of seven or eight centimeters:

"Healing minor injuries!"

First, he healed the trachea, then moved the mage’s hand, allowing the pulled tracheal front tissue to return to its original position. He guided a bundle of healing energy to brush over it, healing the slight injuries from the pull... Healing the subcutaneous tissue layer by layer! Healing the skin! Perfect!

The senior mage’s eyes narrowed slightly. When Garrett finished everything, he handed him a badge:

"Your healing method is quite interesting. I’m Garen Nowak. If you’re interested in exchanging healing techniques, you can find me on the 75th floor of the Mage Tower."

"Hey!" Archmage Carlisle exclaimed discontentedly. Nowak chuckled:

"All right, all right, we’ll talk later. I’ve got a bunch of things to do, and I was pulled over halfway through... Little Garrett, come play when you have time!"

He waved his sleeve and left. Archmage Carlisle got up to see him off. When he returned to the laboratory, he cast his gaze on Garrett:

"What happened?"

Between his going and returning, the silver-haired mage who had stepped forward earlier, Carlisle’s senior disciple, had already cleared the scene. All the mages who had come out of other rooms to watch the excitement, the transmutation mages busy with experiments, and the apprentices who had lent a hand—all of them were ushered out one by one.

In Laboratory No. 6, only Carlisle’s direct disciples and Garrett, who was busy taking care of Aurora Worton, remained. When Archmage Carlisle inquired, there was nothing to hold back:

"What accident happened? How did Walton get poisoned?"

In Archmage Carlisle’s view, it was probably because Garrett had made a mistake while experimenting, and his own disciple had rushed forward to save him—otherwise, how else could he explain why the level two mage was unharmed, while the level five mage was knocked down? But even if his disciple was injured as a result, he couldn’t blame Garrett too much. At most, he could use this as an excuse to advise Garrett not to do dangerous experiments...

Unexpectedly, Garrett remained calm, without a hint of shame. Instead, his junior disciple trembled slightly and mumbled:

"It’s my fault... I imitated his experiment without permission..."

What?! Archmage Carlisle grew angrier as he listened. When he heard the end, he waved his hand, and a transparent giant palm shot out, sending Walton flying:

"You rascal!"

---------------

Your invaluable feedback and ratings mean the world to me. Please take a moment to rate this novel at Novelupdate.If you come across any mistakes within this chapter, kindly notify me in the comments below, so that I can make the necessary corrections.