A Hospital in Another World?

The temple guards froze in their sneaky movements.

The necromancer's bone staff slammed onto the ground. Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, dozens of white bone pillars shot up from the hall floor.

Temple warriors, Priest Donald, Knight Roman, and a few soldiers from Garrett's squad lay strewn across five or six separate enclosures, staring at each other from a distance.

Garrett blinked. He'd heard of this but seeing it for the first time—was this the bone cage?

He examined closely. Those bones were ghastly pale, each over a meter in length, some even longer. Garrett's interest waned: not human bones, not intriguing. He wasn't a forensic expert or a paleontologist to identify their exact origin...

Better to use this time to plead for his team rather than delve into bone classifications.

"Um..."

Garrett attempted to speak, but the necromancer cut in sharply, "Don't worry, not killing them. Just don't want them wreaking havoc. Tomorrow morning, I'll release them."

With a gesture and murmured incantations, dark wisps gathered inward. In moments, shattered stone ghouls reformed and began patrolling.

Well, with stone ghouls around, it's safer in these enclosures... and sleeping here has its perks, sheltered from wind and rain...

Considering the recent mess in the hall, Garrett found no words to argue with the necromancer's decision. His teammates, Priest John and Big Brother Raymond, gestured for silence.

Feeling assured, Garrett took a couple of steps with the necromancer, then saw Priest Donald leap to the enclosure, yelling, "Wait! Let me heal him! Please, let me heal him! He'll die otherwise!"

Knight Roman lay unconscious in another bone cage, while two soldiers tried to revive him to no avail, only worsening his injuries.

Garrett fell silent. Truth be told, seeing Knight Roman in that state gave him a slight sense of satisfaction. As for healing the knight...

Ah, after that impact, wouldn't he have severe bleeding inside his head or abdomen? Maybe he's gone already?

The necromancer glanced at him. Seeing Garrett's lack of reaction or plea, the necromancer's face hardened, "No!"

The priest flinched. The necromancer didn't hold much disdain for him. Pausing for a moment, the necromancer asked, "Got any healing potions?"

"I do, I do!"

The priest nodded vigorously, fetching three vials of healing potion. Extending his arm through the enclosure, he handed them over. The necromancer inspected them, pointing to one vial, "Pass this over."

The black cat agilely leaped, carrying the potion to Knight Roman's enclosure.

The soldiers, surprised and relieved, administered the potion. The healing elixir from the priest was far more potent than little John's basic potion. As soon as it touched the knight's lips, his breathing became heavy. He groaned, opening his eyes.

"He's awake, my lord!"

The soldiers rejoiced. The knight, awakening, spotted the potion and eagerly grabbed it, pouring it onto his wrist.

"Don't!"

Garrett blurted out. The knight's hand trembled, almost dropping the vial, glaring at Garrett, "What are you doing?"

Garrett flinched at the reprimand.

He hadn't cared much about the knight's situation and had been in a daze, disturbed by the city guards' call. Shouting out was more of an instinctual response than anything. Since he had shouted, he had to face the knight's anger, taking it in stride, "This wound can't be healed like that... just external healing won't work, the internal damage needs attention first..."

"Who's listening to your nonsense!"

The knight snorted, tipping the vial. As the healing potion dripped onto his wrist, the wound healed instantly, leaving his skin flawless, just like before.

Only his right thumb still bent slightly, an unnatural posture.

Garrett sighed and turned away.

The necromancer observed their interaction with interest, smiled, and casually followed with the golden skull. The stone door behind them creaked shut, and with a snap of the necromancer's fingers, the lights brightened. He chuckled at Garrett, "So? Want me to get rid of him for you?"

"Um..."

Garrett hesitated. While the offer was tempting, he knew who had called the city guards earlier and understood the appearance of the stone ghoul wasn't without reason. But when it came down to actually eliminating the guy...

"...No, thank you?"

"Really don't want?"

The necromancer raised an eyebrow. His brown hair and blue eyes, along with his thin frame, made him resemble a walking skeleton. That wasn't all, the black cat on his shoulder interjected, "That guy isn't nice to you. When I pounced, he used you as a shield!"

"A cat... a talking cat!!!"

Though this was a magical world where skeletons walked and conversed, it was astonishing that a cat could talk.

Garrett involuntarily stepped back until his back chilled against the stone door. Truth be told, he had a bit of a fear of cats in his previous life. There were five or six stray cats in the hospital that nurses often fed, but Garrett never dared to touch them. Now here he was, encountering a combat-savvy talking cat!

Garrett braced himself against the stone. The black cat jumped down, landing in front of him. Its tail flicked against the ground, taking a step forward, lifting its head high, baring its teeth.

The cat's semi-transparent whiskers twitched. Due to Garrett's address, its mood seemed a bit off:

"That's so rude! I'm the great Mr. Troka! Don't call me Black Cat! Black Cat!"

Oh, a talking—not just talking, a sentient being...

Adrenaline surged through Garrett for a moment, but gradually, he calmed down. He didn't fear talking cats; he feared lack of intelligence and strong fighting abilities. Silent, agile, and powerful, that's what would really concern him...

Well, this was a world with magic and mysticism. Skulls picked up their own heads, cats talked—what's odd about that?

Thanks to countless animations and various games from his past life, Garrett quickly accepted the premise of "talking cats." He stepped forward, politely nodding at the black cat:

"Hello, esteemed Mr. Troka. I apologize for earlier."

"No worries!"

The cat graciously waved its paw. As it lifted its paw, the pink pads bunched up cutely, making Garrett's fingers itch to pinch them. Sensing this ill-intent, the cat agilely leaped away, raising its head, grinning widely:

"Seriously, don't want me to get rid of him for you?"

"No need."

Garrett gradually relaxed. He gazed into the cat's golden eyes, exhaled slowly, and smiled confidently:

"He's already done for. If he won't mend tendons before healing, who can blame anyone?"

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