Extraordinary Voyage-Chapter 470 - 431 Limb Replantation
After meeting up with Mr. Roddy in the Kingdom’s territory.
The group of four entered the Charles Territory of the Phaletis Autonomous Colony, not too far north from the Far Sails Territory.
The western part of this colony is the steep Cumberland Mountains, which are part of the Abayachi Mountains that run north-south across the eastern region of the New Continent, rich in coal and iron ore.
It is also currently the steel metallurgical center of Phaletis in the New Continent.
Even the low-carbon steel used in the previous refitting of the Storm Horn’s iron keel came from here.
However, due to the high initial investment required, the metallurgy industry here is just beginning, with a small scale, only a few scattered iron mines, coal mines, and small to medium-sized metallurgical workshops.
But prospecting experts believe that larger scale mineral resources are hidden within the mountains, possibly even large open-pit deposits of immeasurable value.
This is the driving force behind the colony leadership’s eager readiness for further westward expansion!
"By the way, Roddy. I’ve never asked you, how did you come to know about this Dr. Taylor?"
"Ah? Oh! You might not know because you’ve spent less time on the continent; many dignitaries actually know this medical doctor who travels the New Continent.
My uncle, Mr. Hodge, is a major plantation owner in the Kabushir Colony, an upper-house member, and also a Governor’s Council committee member.
He once received help from him, so that’s how I know this excellent doctor."
Upon hearing Aiven’s question, Olivia was slightly taken aback.
But she immediately came up with a prepared excuse, for which she thanks the boasts of the true Mr. Roddy, who has already moved on to another world, about his "family background."
In fact, Olivia’s knowledge of Dr. Taylor came from her mother, the Nymph, which is also the source of her confidence in this doctor’s abilities.
Because Dr. Taylor is not a mere doctor but an Official Wizard leaning towards the medical path, and moreover, many members of his Vesalian School are wanted by the Church.
Grave robbers, heretics, blood-sucking demons, messengers of death... such terrible titles have been forcibly placed upon them.
Olivia suspected that possibly because of this, he found it hard to survive in the Old Continent and thus fled to the New Continent.
"Is that so? I guess I’m uninformed. Speaking of which, I am a registered legitimate Pharmacist of the Kingdom; perhaps I could try to exchange some knowledge with this medical doctor."
At this time when modern medicine is just beginning, bloodletting therapy is still widely practiced, and many doctors’ methods aren’t too different from witchcraft.
Yet the most frightening thing for patients is that these "witchcraft" users themselves possess no casting abilities...
To ordinary sailors, even simple wounds, the best cure or, rather, the only medication post-injury is strong rum.
With slightly better conditions, one might have a bottle of subpar "Holy Water" diluted an unknown number of times.
This era even had a saying where the better the medical conditions, the higher the mortality rate. That is, the survival rate of dignitaries with medical services was lower than that of poor people relying on their immune systems.
It is imaginable how unreliable the medical practices of this era were!
Thus, Aiven fully understood how rare it was to have a doctor who mastered real scientific treatment in this era.
He was even considering.
If this person indeed had true skills, he might attempt to invite him to become the ship doctor of the Storm Horn. Even if that didn’t work, he should maintain a good relationship so that the crew could often get medical assistance from him.
Everyone in the group was at least of the Extraordinary Tier of an Official Knight, had excellent mobility, and even while chatting along the way, they quickly reached their destination.
An iron mine of a not-too-large scale surrounded by mountains.
"Is this the place?"
"Yes, it has a name and a look, combined with vague guidance from passersby earlier, Divination can’t be wrong."
Milan replied confidently, as the spirit pendulum in his hand defied the rules of gravity, pointing diagonally forward, as finding people or objects was really a piece of cake for him.
Standing at the entrance, they could already see quite a number of aboriginal miners and Nimansite overseers coming and going in the mine. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝒆𝒘𝙚𝓫𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢
A few Nimansite guards belonging to the mine spotted the group and immediately approached politely to inquire:
"Sirs, may I ask who you are...?"
"We are here looking for someone. Is there a Dr. Taylor in the mine?
If someone could show us the way, that would be great. If worried about us stealing iron ore, feel free to send someone to follow us."
Aiven explained their reason for coming, but seeing the guard’s bewildered expression, it was evident they knew nothing of any Dr. Taylor.
"Ah, welcome to the Camodo Iron Mine. If you’re looking for someone, please feel free to do so, and should you need anything else, don’t hesitate to ask."
The corpulent mine manager came rushing over upon hearing the news, with an even better attitude than the guards.
Whether in ancient times or in the modern age, the first impression strangers give is always from one’s appearance, though judging by appearance is not advocated, the prevalence of such behavior holds a certain rationality.
Even in plain clothes, having not come by carriage, their attire remained neat, polished military boots; particularly, the air emanating from Aiven unequivocally highlighted the group’s extraordinary qualities.
It would take eyes to see such things; how could there be so many dogs looking down on people?
Moreover, just finding someone is not an unreasonable request.
"Then thank you."
"It’s my duty; this way, please!"
When Aiven and his companions found the traveling medical doctor by following the spirit pendulum, he was performing a surgery in an extremely rudimentary environment.
The patient was an Aboriginal boy whose hands had been chopped off, and he had already fallen unconscious.
Such situations were not uncommon among slaves. A glance at the man leaning against the wall explained the entire story.
He was a man dressed as a miner, covered in dust, and sobbing helplessly with his face in his hands: "Why punish my son for my failure to complete the task?!"
Even Apsuya, an Atrean like him, found it hard to bear but wasn’t overly indignant. This was simply the reality of life for slaves in small tribes, and managing their own tribe was the limit of their capacity.
They didn’t dwell on this human tragedy for long but were instead drawn to the doctor’s actions.
"Hmm? Dr. Taylor is a wizard?"
On a relatively flat wooden corridor, a semi-circular light-green barrier enveloped two figures.
One was the emaciated boy of about five or six years old, the other a middle-aged man in a robe, with a hint of white in his hair.
Two severed arms, wrapped in light-green orbs, floated beside him, with small blood clots continually being expelled from the stumps.
The middle-aged doctor skillfully and swiftly cleaned the wounds, adjusting the skin, muscles, bones, blood vessels, nerves...
Then he attached the limbs to the upper arms, securing the bones with screws of unknown material.
Using the child’s own hair as suture thread, he swiftly weaved through the flesh.
Perhaps due to the lack of an external blood supply, the doctor’s hands moved very fast, obviously racing against time.
Aiven saw clearly that this was a "dreamlike" limb reattachment surgery!
While employing magical assistance, the advanced medical knowledge at its core was undeniable.
This doctor’s knowledge system clearly included the concept of blood circulation, with no mistakes in the reconnections of arteries and veins.
From this move, Aiven knew that this was exactly the person he was looking for!
Everyone held their breath, quietly watching the near-artistic movements of the doctor.
However, as the operation quickly advanced beyond halfway to the nerve reconnection...
Tap.. tap.. tap..
Aiven, under the surprised gazes of his companions, suddenly stepped forward and easily passed through the Spiritual Barrier that created a sterile space.
Pop—
Then, with his hand flashing "Activated Spiritual Light," the nerves that Taylor had reconnected severed once more.
Then the sheath covering the nerve strands (myelin) split open, revealing the central nerve strand which extended into the originally severed distal sheath, and finally closed again.
"You..."
The doctor, who was fully concentrated on the surgery, had intended to stop this intruder from making matters worse, but was caught off guard when the child’s fingers twitched almost immediately.
Although his eyes showed joy, the doctor knew his patient was now most important and swiftly completed the final sutures.
Then the two of them collaborated, using only half the original time to attach the boy’s other arm.
When the surgery was completely done, the middle-aged doctor released the Spiritual Barrier and excitedly grabbed Aiven’s hand immediately:
"Hello, sir, you are also a doctor, right? Your understanding of the nervous system surpasses our current knowledge.
I originally intended to do all I could; whether these hands could regain normal function was uncertain to me.
Now I believe there is at least an eighty percent chance they will regain their original form. Can I exchange some experiences related to the nervous system with you?"
Looking at the excited doctor, Aiven smiled slightly:
"Hello, Dr. Taylor! I... could barely be considered a pharmacist, not as specialized as you.
Nerve reconnection is not particularly complicated once you understand it. I can tell you right now.
After a nerve fiber is severed, as long as the sheath covering the nerve strands (myelin) is aligned properly,
the central nerve filaments can travel along the superior myelin, enter the originally severed distal myelin, eventually forming new nerve fibers and resuming the function of transmitting nerve signals.
The key to nerve reconnection lies with the internal nerve strands, not the external myelin sheath."
"I see! I understand now!"
The middle-aged doctor was filled with sudden enlightenment, almost as if hearing a truth, and danced joyfully like a child, evidently having a deep love for medicine.
Seeing him lost in his own world, Aiven hurriedly restrained him: "Dr. Taylor, we were looking for you to request your assistance."
Saying so, Aiven produced the report on analyzing the "Super Cystic Fungus," and because of the other’s wizard identity, the analysis of the traces left by magical modifications was also presented.
"Is there a disease that even you cannot solve?"
Dr. Taylor took the experimental records from Aiven doubtfully and unfolded them to take a look.
The next moment, his face changed dramatically, as he exclaimed:
"Poison Plague School!"
