Garrett was utterly flabbergasted.


    It wasn’t the extended stay that troubled him. He could manage the food and accommodation; it was the Dwarf Kingdom’s method of selecting their king that left him astonished. He quietly asked Harry the mage:


    "Do we really start with mining? What if I can’t do it?"


    Mining, sorting ores, smelting, forging, taming mounts, wilderness survival, combat... The skillset required was vast! Could one person really master all these skills? And why would a king need these skills?


    In the entire process, it seemed only leading a small team—a team of seven—had some relevance to ruling a kingdom! Could a king selected this way truly be reliable? Surely there wouldn’t be any issues?


    And maintaining a friendly relationship with the Dwarf Kingdom, which selects its king in such a manner, that’s fine for the Magic Council?


    "How could it not be!" Harry gave him a disdainful look:


    "Every dwarf learns mining and smelting from a young age, including princes! Only the best miners can learn blacksmithing, and only those who can forge their own weapons can become warriors!... Can’t learn? Start learning at 40 and by 80 you’re an adult, what can’t you learn?"


    Okay... alright...


    The difference between long-lived and short-lived species is real. You have long lives; you can afford to be willful, okay?


    Garrett took a deep breath and calmed down. Shifting his perspective, this method of selection at least ensured the ruler chosen was grounded. From the people, back to the people—it’s not bad, right?


    Besides, each race has its own customs that should not interfere with each other. Just like the empresses of Northern Wei who had to forge a golden figure for their coronation... as long as you’re happy...


    He bowed his head and quietly continued eating. After the banquet, the old king indeed summoned the trade delegation, warmly consoling them and expressing that they had indeed worked hard. Then, the conversation shifted—


    "However, such an important agreement shouldn’t be finalized by an old man like me. Could I trouble our distinguished guests to wait another month, until the new king is selected, to negotiate with you?"


    Garrett: "..." I knew it.


    Returning to the trade delegation’s quarters, he dove back into his research. After treating that orc, Garrett exchanged ideas on bloodline magic with the orc’s elder shaman, gaining a lot of inspiration. His research on blood oxygen monitoring magic was progressing well.


    He had conducted whole-lung lavage experiments on various animals like rabbits, goats, elk, and wild boars, with a success rate exceeding 90%! He was just one crucial step away from completion! Once done, clinical trials could commence!


    If he left now, where would he find so many patients?


    Garrett calmly went about his days, treating the dwarves by day—accumulating case and physiological data, building relationships, developing a backup patient pool—and conducting animal experiments at night with the rewards from his patients. After finishing the experiments and dissections, he would send the results to the kitchen, ensuring extra meals for the entire trade delegation the next day.


    Life was bliss.


    If not for the unforeseen events, he could continue this for another month without tedium.


    Unfortunately, disasters strike swiftly like a tornado. On the third night, the eve of the selection team’s departure, urgent knocking shattered the delegation’s tranquility.


    Several high-ranking mages hurried over. About an hour later, they all returned, and then Archmage Serrano personally knocked on Garrett’s door.


    "What’s up?" Garrett’s hand twitched. Distracted, the tendrils retracted swiftly, and he cried out, rushing towards the operating table:


    My deer!


    My deer!


    His mouth curved downwards:


    "Today, the young priests of the Firehammer clan held a banquet for Priest Jis’s farewell. Unfortunately, the wine was bad, and most of the priests were incapacitated."


    So, it might be their doing too?


    He inquired in a low voice. Archmage Serrano frowned:


    "Evidence is insufficient for now, it’s premature to conclude. But, firstly, the capable young priests of the Firehammer clan were essentially knocked out, and secondly..."


    Secondly, two accidents in a row, both heavily suggesting human intervention. In Archmage Serrano’s view, even just to counterbalance the involvement of the Radiant Church, the mages must take action.


    "Garrett, we really need your help!" Gavyn pleaded, clutching Garrett’s right hand, nearly pulling him over:


    "You’re a level four priest and a level four mage, much stronger than a mere priest! Plus, with time so short, we can’t find anyone else. It’s not feasible to seek help from other clans..."


    "—But I’m human!"


    Garrett stated blankly. Could humans even participate in the dwarves’ king selection? Wouldn’t that disqualify them?


    "No worries, we’re not particular about that." Gavyn waved his hand dismissively:


    "The Ironbone clan often includes barbarians in their team, and the Wildhammer clan—the one on the far east—always has orcs in their king selection team. No one minds. From mining to forging, candidates must do it themselves. How well the work is done, whether they slack off, everyone sees. If it’s done poorly, it won’t win people over!"


    Mining? Forging? Garrett’s vision darkened:


    "I can’t mine! Nor can I forge!" I can’t even tame goats! Climbing mountains, Archmage Carlisle warned me not to when we set off!


    Joining their team as a sedentary mage, wouldn’t I just be a burden?


    "Magicians do what magicians do best." Archmage Serrano gestured dismissively:


    "I’ve discussed it with them, and they all accept. You focus on healing, and if there’s a chance, assist them with magic. That’s enough. Don’t worry, you won’t have to mine or swing a hammer!"


    Of course, the price is Bernard mining and hammering for two... Archmage Serrano had reached an agreement with the dwarves on this point. Of course, Bernard could also help Garrett tame goats, accompany him on mountain climbs, and ensure his safety.


    What?


    Dragons on the mountaintop?


    The dragons are in the northern part


    of the Black Gate Mountains, hundreds of kilometers from the royal court, no need to worry about encountering one while climbing...


    "Just received news." The wooden door creaked open, and Mage Simond entered with a grave expression:


    "The candidate from the Blackrock clan, his selection team now includes a priest from the Radiant Lord."


    ---------------


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