Chapter 209: Dullahan Saving Project (3)

After reattaching Darian's neck.

When I returned to the recovery room, I saw the people from the Ducal Family.

"Darian!"

Darian's fiancée, Isolde, ran to Darian on the bed.

And she tightly grasped the hand of the still-sleeping him.

Without even glancing at me, who had worked so hard.

"Ahem, ahem."

The Duke, standing behind her, cleared his throat and approached.

"Thank you. And I'm sorry. Normally, my daughter would be the one to thank you, but... as you know, she is meeting her fiancé after ten years, is she not? I hope you'll understand."

"Not at all. If anything, a reaction like this makes the surgery worthwhile."

I removed the crow mask and waved my hand.

Of course, it feels rewarding to receive thanks from a patient's guardian immediately after surgery.

But I wasn't particularly hurt that she passed me by and went straight to the patient.

A precious person nearly died and came back to life.

I could understand a hundred times over.

I wasn't hurt.

Really.

...Honestly, I'm a tiny bit hurt.

Still, she could at least glance at me after all my hard work.

I forced those feelings down and spoke to Isolde, who was holding her fiancé's hand tightly.

"The patient's condition is good. His breathing is stable, and all the other values are normal."

"Then when will we be able to see him wake up?"

"For other patients, he would wake right away, but because his strength has weakened from a long time in bed, it will take a little time."

Honestly, I don't know when he'll wake up either.

I'm not an anesthesiologist.

But from experience, people who have been bedridden for a long time take time to get up.

"I'll explain how the surgery went."

I took a glass vial from my pocket.

Inside, a bone was rattling around.

It was the patient's ‘What is this? Give it back!’

"The bone was successfully removed. After that, the calf bone settled in well, and the cut area was repaired with Regeneration."

If it had been another patient, he would have had to live without a leg bone.

But this patient was a VIP receiving the Ducal Family's generous support.

There was no reason to leave him in a state missing a bone.

"And I'd like you to keep this bone, Duke, and deliver it to the patient later."

"Why are you giving this to me?"

"The patient asked for it. He said he wanted it as a souvenir."

"Heh heh... This fellow, even at a time like that... I'm sorry again, Lord Saint."

The Duke let out a dry laugh.

"You worked so hard to save this friend, and the man himself was only thinking about playing pranks... Good grief. Between my youngest daughter and now my son-in-law, I have no face to show you, Lord Saint."

"Not at all. It's a request I receive often."

"You receive requests like this often?"

"Yes. More often than you'd think."

They happen quietly often.

People who ask me to keep the part I removed in surgery because they want it as a souvenir.

So when I got this request, I wasn't flustered.

"Why something like this..."

"He says he wants to leave a trace that he overcame his illness. Apparently, there are people who gain strength from seeing something like this when they face hard times ahead."

Some people would say to throw away any trace of their illness because they can't bear to look at it.

Some people gain strength from the trace of their illness.

I overcame even this, so what's this next thing? I can endure it too.

That's roughly the feeling, I hear.

"Still, I wonder if it wasn't a nuisance. You must have wanted to focus solely on the surgery."

"This much doesn't interfere with surgery, so it's fine. If anything, it's a good sign. It means the patient is full of the will to live."

I like this kind of thing.

It has romance.

Most doctors probably feel the same?

Rather than a patient who looks gloomy and says they'll die when this flower wilts,

a patient who vows to go home with a trophy makes surgery feel worthwhile.

"You... truly think of nothing but patients."

"I'll take that as a compliment, Duke."

"Understood. I'll have this bone properly worked, and when this friend takes up his sword again, I'll return it to him as a gift."

The Duke placed the bottle containing the vertebra into his bosom.

Just as I was about to finish reporting the surgery's progress to the Duke.

"Oh? Lord Saint! His finger moved!"

Isolde, who had been kneeling by the bed, urgently called me.

My head snapped around.

I was surprised too.

'His progress is really fast?'

No matter how well the surgery had gone, I had thought it would take some time before he could move.

Usually, post-surgical edema presses on the nerves, so time is needed.

But perhaps because the divine magic's effect was strong.

The patient began moving his fingers as soon as the surgery ended.

"Darian. If you can hear me, try moving your fingers."

Twitch, twitch.

Look at that.

Even though there's no strength, he's moving them well.

"Darian. Can you open your eyes?"

"...Isolde."

Darian's eyelids trembled.

Soon his eyes slowly opened.

His unfocused gaze wandered the ceiling for a while, then turned toward the voice urgently calling him.

"Ugh... Isolde..."

"Darian! Yes! I'm here!"

Isolde nodded urgently.

Her hands gripped Darian's hand even harder.

As if she were afraid of losing him.

"Isolde..."

"Darian!"

"Isolde..."

"Darian!"

The two called each other's names in turn.

The patient's weak voice and Isolde's desperate voice answered each other in harmony.

Pffft—!

The Head Butler, who had been quietly watching nearby, blew his nose into a handkerchief.

I felt much the same as the Head Butler.

The two of them did look heartbreaking.

So much so that I thought this must be what Romeo and Juliet would look like if they reunited.

However...

"Isolde..."

"Darian!"

You should know when to stop.

When is this going to end?

Unable to bear it any longer, I cut in between the two.

"Patient. The surgery is over. Don't move your head. If you can hear me, could you move your fingers once more?"

His brow tensed.

Only after Isolde let go of his hand did his finger twitch.

It was moving well.

"Good. You did well. This time, could you rotate your wrist?"

Rotate, rotate.

His wrist turned.

"Can you lift your arm?"

His arm rose with effort.

It couldn't rise far before it fell with a thump—.

So the guardians wouldn't misunderstand that his arm hadn't recovered, I spoke immediately.

"Good. His arm probably can't move much because his muscles have weakened from a long time in bed. Once he recovers, he'll be able to move it."

Divine magic restores injuries, but it cannot give back muscles lost over a long period.

If it could, Holy Knights would have built their bodies with it. (Gregor is the exception.)

"The details can be looked into slowly through rehabilitation after he recovers."

His fingers moved well, his arm moved well, and his toes wiggled well too.

At this point, the Dullahan surgery could be called a great success.

"Darian...!"

The Duke's daughter burst into tears.

"I'll help you walk. At first, just walk slowly. The garden has changed a lot. The rose vines you liked have now climbed all the way to the end of the corridor."

She smiled through her tear-soaked face.

"And... remember the clock tower we used to visit often? The bakery below it is still there. The owner changed, but the cinnamon bread is still sold."

Still holding Darian's hand tightly, the Duke's daughter continued.

"What do you want to see first? The garden? The clock tower? Or just... anywhere is fine. Anywhere you want to go, this time I'll take you everywhere."

Hearing those words, I turned toward the outside of the recovery room.

It seemed Romeo and Juliet needed quite a lot of time.

The Duke also followed me out of the recovery room.

Only after the recovery room door closed and the two voices could no longer be heard did the Duke speak.

"I can't believe it. You truly did it."

I smiled lightly.

"Didn't I tell you? It's a simple matter of reattaching a neck if it's cut."

Was it really as simple as I made it sound?

No?

Honestly, I was scared too.

Even in modern medicine, the failure rate for treating cervical spine injuries is quite high.

Especially someone with a severed neck—I was seeing one for the first time in real life.

I'd only seen things like this in case reports.

I mean, it was my first time operating on one myself.

Let alone seeing it succeed.

'I still wonder if this should even be possible.'

Nevertheless, there was one reason I maintained my composure.

It was because I believed in the protagonist's plot armor.

No matter what, I am the protagonist.

In a world with divine magic, wouldn't a little inexperience be corrected on its own?

My grand boast, thrown out with that thought...

As you can see, it ended up succeeding.

But the Duke, not knowing my feelings, looked as though he didn't doubt for a moment that this was truly my skill.

"...It seems I was the one lacking faith."

No, Duke.

Honestly, I didn't think this would work either.

But with divine magic and protagonist's plot armor added, it somehow worked out.

Now I'm curious just how far it can go.

"Thank you."

He bowed his head.

I returned the courtesy.

The Duke raised his head again and spoke to me.

"How should I repay you?"

Repayment, huh.

I thought for a moment.

Then something happened to come to mind, and I brought it up right away.

"I'd like to use a train."

"...A train?"

The Duke tilted his head slightly.

"Do you need a private train? That cannot be a reward. Don't you already have a private train?"

"I have a private train?"

"Why would you think you don't?"

Aha. Right. I was a major shareholder.

My intoxication with my own wealth was short-lived.

I shook my head and returned to reality.

"What I want isn't that kind of train. It's a dedicated train for wounded soldiers."

In case someone passing by might hear, I lowered my voice a little.

"I'd like you to operate trains equipped with operating rooms nationwide, Duke."

"You want me to operate that surgery car you ordered this time nationwide?"

"Yes."

The Duke stroked his chin.

He seemed to be picturing what I had said in his head.

Soon he nodded.

"I understand what kind of train you want. On the way here, I heard that just that surgery car prevented any deaths, so there's no doubt about its effectiveness. But is there a need to operate something even greater nationwide? Isn't bringing them to a fortress enough?"

"No. It isn't enough."

I had felt this keenly a few days ago, after the preliminary exam.

At the time, the exam had gone well.

The triage worked well, and there were no deaths.

The patients brought to me got past the critical point, and no one was left with a disability.

On paper, it was a successful medical system.

But strangely, it left a bitter aftertaste.

How should I put it?

A bitterness that's hard to explain in documents or ledgers, something only those on the ground can feel?

At the time, I couldn't explain exactly what it was.

But looking back over time, I think I understand.

I had heard noise.

The noise that arises when the field doesn't run smoothly.

And the name of that noise was...

"Currently, the military evacuation system is not maintaining the proper 'golden time.'"

It was golden time.

Of course, patients were receiving proper emergency treatment from healers in the field.

They arrived at the base camp before their breathing gave out.

And triage worked well, so those who needed it were sent straight to the operating room.

But this was only because of the special circumstance that was 'me.'

It was only a result made possible by my absurd spending.

Such a result could not be produced on other battlefields.

"On other battlefields right now, it takes far too long to reach an operating room after emergency treatment."

"So you mean to move the operating room to the battlefield where the wounded soldiers are?"

"That's right."

Divine magic is influenced by the environment.

A holy statue made of marble.

A magic circle through which holy water flows.

Various facilities that amplify and stabilize divine power.

Only when all of those are in place is an operating room completed that can stably use Greater Heal or Regeneration.

(Let's leave saints and saintesses as the exception. Not every battlefield has a saint or saintess.)

The problem was that such an environment could not be reproduced as-is in the field.

A makeshift operating room can be made somehow with just Rax and a tent.

But a genuine operating room capable of using even advanced divine magic is a different story.

That was why the final treatment of the severely injured from battlefields always took place at rear fortresses or large infirmaries.

It meant the patient had to arrive there alive.

But I reversed the idea.

Instead of bringing the patient to the operating room,

I would drag the entire operating room right up to the battlefield.

Having heard this far, the Duke raised a new question.

"Then a new question arises. Does it have to be a train? Would a carriage be difficult?"

"I wanted to make it in the form of a car too, but I was told it's technologically difficult."

I also wanted to make it with an automobile if possible.

There are automobile-like things in this world, after all.

But cramming an operating room into a single automobile was still difficult.

They said automobile engines weren't at the level to carry an operating room.

I tried throwing a lot of money at it, but they said it absolutely couldn't be done.

In the end, I gave up.

I'm not an engineer, so those technical limits couldn't be helped.

But with a train, it was a different story.

As a rule, technology is difficult to miniaturize.

In other words, if you give up on size, you can drag an operating room and infirmary around with you.

"If possible, I don't want to be satisfied with just a surgery car. I want to operate the entire train like a hospital."

Empty one passenger car entirely and turn it into an operating room.

Load medicines and instruments in the next car.

Convert the cabins into hospital rooms.

That would complete a running hospital.

"Move the wounded to a base close to the battlefield, and the train receives them there and goes to the infirmary. So they can receive treatment while waiting or while moving."

"You mean to make a running infirmary."

"Yes. At least it can reduce the number of people who die because they can't reach the infirmary."

"Heh heh..."

The Duke laughed as if dumbfounded by my explanation.

"How did you think of something like this? Turning a train into an infirmary."

The Duke was impressed, but to me it wasn't such a difficult idea.

Even in modern times, this was called a mobile hospital.

There are ones converted from buses, and ones converted from passenger planes.

They're usually equipment operated at disaster sites; you can think of them as the ultimate evolution of the ambulance.

Of course, here I'd have to settle for a train because of technological limits.

Soon, convinced, the Duke slowly nodded.

"Then, among the southern routes, an appropriate place..."

"The east, west, and north need them too."

His nod stopped.

"...There are no railways there yet."

"Yes. We'll have to ask you to start by laying the tracks."

The Duke looked at me.

I also looked at him while maintaining my smile.

"I don't mean to ask you to lay them across the entire empire immediately. First, start with routes connecting places where many wounded occur to rear infirmaries. I'd like to expand them little by little like that."

The Duke was silent for a moment, then asked.

"You mean to prioritize places where many wounded occur, rather than places where many people or cargo travel?"

"That's right."

"It won't be profitable."

"That's why I'm asking you as a reward, Duke."

Yes.

I know.

Even I, a layman in this field, couldn't help but know how much loss this would lead to.

Laying new railways wasn't the only problem.

Unlike the south, demonic beasts are still actively roaming in the east, west, and north.

Naturally, if we laid railways, the demonic beasts would gnaw at them, and maintenance costs would be considerable because of that.

Because I knew that well, I brought it up as a reward.

"Even if I am a major shareholder, it would be difficult to push this project forward. So I'm asking you while I have the chance."

If it had been a business that made good money, I wouldn't have needed to ask for it as a reward.

I would have come with a business plan.

"...Lord Saint, are you telling me to accept that much loss and expand railways across the country?"

"That's right."

The unit of loss might be a little large...

Still, if you count it as repaying me, couldn't the Ducal Family's standing handle it?

Or not?

Is my economic sense strange?

'...Somehow, I'm becoming like Teacher.'

Suddenly, I remembered Teacher whining to the board of directors to buy an ultimate-grade air ambulance.

Orovis Flying Airana, or whatever it was called.

In the end, the hospital did buy one of a similar class.

The problem was that the operating and maintenance costs nearly bankrupted the hospital.

It was an incident where even Teacher broke into a cold sweat, saying he hadn't known it was this expensive.

'I heard doctors originally lack a lot of economic sense when it comes to equipment like this...'

Before I knew it, I could see myself demanding the exact same thing from the Duke.

"Hmm..."

The Duke let out a low hum.

Soon, having finished his calculations, he opened his mouth.

"Before I answer, there's something I want to ask. Why is this a reward for you?"

Huh?

What does that mean?

At the unexpected question, I blinked.

"Well..."

I had no choice but to trail off.

What was it?

Why is this my reward?

I needed a little thought to explain it.

'...Because I can take the title of the world's first mobile hospital and the ambulance title?'

Yes.

That must be it.

The Duke would do the work, and I could take the fame.

The problem was that I couldn't explain that to the Duke as it was.

'How do I explain it?'

For a moment, silence fell between us.

The Duke looked at me without a word.

Then he raised his hand and wiped his face.

Beyond his palm, I heard his laughter.

"It was a foolish question. To ask a Saint something like that. I should have asked why a fish wants water instead."

"..."

Apparently the Duke had convinced himself on his own.

"Very well. I'll start by preparing trains equipped with operating rooms."

"Thank you."

"I'll also discuss laying tracks in other regions. It won't happen overnight, but I'll push it forward with that purpose in mind from the start."

He paused for a moment.

"And even if it earns a little less profit, I won't let those trains stop. However, please understand that reaching too dangerous battlefields will be difficult."

"That's enough, Duke."

I shook hands with the Duke.

The title of creator of the world's first ambulance was a bonus.