Academic gathering with Lich colleagues

"An Academic Gathering with My Lich Colleagues" by Sakiko Yumeno

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In an era where knowledge was suppressed, even physician Lyle had to be cautious in his academic research when an invitation from Andre College appeared before him.

Cassandra's Andreas College?

Lyle examined the tombstone carefully and thought, "Wow, the scholars here really know how to choose a place."

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Chapter One: My Holy Light!

Lyle Bouler.

Two years ago, I officially began my student life at Iver Medical School, aiming to become a doctor who saves lives.

Frankly, being a doctor is a controversial profession. Especially if you travel back to a medieval era where ignorant people prefer praying to the gods to seeking medical help, and the traditional Chinese medicine diagnostic methods (observation, auscultation, inquiry, and palpation) are less popular than shamanistic rituals. In some areas, doctors are even equated with murderers. In such a hostile environment, the prospects for accessing medical care are worrying.

But Lyle didn't have many choices. His poor health made him unable to do manual labor, and in terms of knowledge, his only talent was in medicine. He barely passed the entrance exam for Everest College by studying cramming, which was like having a stroke. He could only hope to open a small clinic in his hometown after graduation to make a living.

Unfortunately, on the third day after Lyle Bouler celebrated his twentieth birthday, the school closed down.

Things took an unexpected turn, and the bewildered Lyle didn't come to his senses until he was expelled from the academy.

The familiar academy gates were now tightly shut, and armored knights were sealing them. Several middle-aged men were talking nearby.

The portly man, dressed in fine clothes and eating sumptuous food, was one of the academy's board members. The light blue griffin emblem on his carriage indicated that he was a member of the royal family. At this moment, he was fawning over another solemn-looking monk.

That was a priest from the Church of Dawn. Lyle looked at the culprit with a depressed expression.

What brought the school to its knees were the priests, the church, and Cassandra's religious community.

A few months ago, Lyle had heard similar rumors; his classmates had started discussing the church's ban on medical research, and they began to worry about their future.

Lyle, even while studying, took the time to look down on them. They clearly weren't under enough academic pressure, yet they still had the nerve to fantasize about such unrealistic things. There are always tall people to hold up the sky if it falls. So many scholars and teachers—would they just let the church expel them? And the royal family? Have those in power lost their minds? If they close the academy, who will be responsible for their safety?

Lyle felt a mix of emotions as he compared his past sense of superiority to his current dejection, followed by a surge of anger.

This is outrageous! They can't do this! We are doctors, an indispensable part of social stability and order. Aren't clergy human beings? Don't they get sick too? I'm going to protest in Papal Square. Their interference with medicine is a disrespect for life.

Of course, I alone am not enough. I need the strength of the collective. With hundreds of people gathered in front of the church, they probably wouldn't dare to suppress us with armed force.

Lyle began to visit his close teachers, but received only disheartening replies.

"No need."

"No need."

Professor Feller, the anatomy professor who used to be his best friend, looked like a wilted eggplant. He walked to his desk with a gloomy expression and gave Lyle a dejected look.

"Lyle, do you know that humans really do have limits? You spend your whole life only to find that the distance you've traveled is just one small step that someone else has taken..."

They had been bent over by reality, Lyle could only think that only students full of enthusiasm could be their targets. The failure of the visit made Lyle smell a bad scent.

After walking to Borui Manor and explaining his purpose to the gatekeeper, Lyle waited quietly outside the gate.

Kevin Borrell.

One of Lyle's friends from his student days, a rich second-generation with a rebellious spirit. Through Lyle's deliberate flattery, the two became good friends.

Lyle's unconventional behavior stands out in daily life, leading to his isolation by his classmates but also attracting some oddballs, who, in Kevin's eyes, are simply cool.

"Welcome to my humble abode, our fashion mentor." Kevin, dressed in a tuxedo, appeared from behind the door and, ignoring the doorman's attempts to dissuade him, led Lyle into the reception room.

Kevin's enthusiasm warmed Lyle's heart, and he was like a little peacock spreading its tail feathers, as if worries and troubles could not disturb him.

"Fashion mentor? You've given me another nickname behind my back?"

"This is all thanks to me, no need to thank me. Besides, this wasn't something I came up with on a whim. You don't know, what you said has now become a catchphrase among the younger generation."

"Hmm? Which sentence?"

"My Holy Light."

Lyle smiled helplessly. It was only shortly after he enrolled that he realized, in his ignorance, that the power of theocracy still prevailed. He said it in jest, and somehow it became a common phrase. It was just a game term to express amazement. Lyle didn't delve into it further. The imagination of medieval youths with limited entertainment options was beyond your imagination.

"Where are you taking me now?"

"Ah, I'm having a party at my house right now, and I'm thinking of bringing you, Mr. Trendsetter, along to show them what's what."

Lyle stopped walking.

The Borei family may not be part of the upper class in this country, but they are, after all, hereditary barons. One can imagine the social standing of the invitees to such a gathering: nobles, wealthy merchants, and children of government officials.

At this point, the appearance of an ordinary civilian would be nothing short of a clown's attempt to make a fool of himself.

Of course, for commoners, performing monkey shows for noblemen might be something they would love to do. If the nobleman is happy, even a small amount of profit that slips through his fingers can be a considerable fortune for them.

This society has classes, and if it weren't for Eiffel Academy, I probably wouldn't have been able to become a friend of the young master of the Borui family.

"Kevin, maybe we should just forget it. I'm not really comfortable participating in group activities."

Kevin glanced at Lyle's expression and seemed to understand something.

“Lyle, do you know that my father, Baron Borre, once taught me that as a knight, you can be ignorant of everything, but you must at least learn to invest. You must have a sharp eye and be good at identifying the strong and binding them to your chariot.”

"So, you think I'm a good investment target."

“That’s right,” Kevin said, draping his arm over Lyle’s rough coat. “We’re like brothers, we know each other very well. Lyle, you’re sure to achieve great things.”

"As far as I know, my only above-average grades were in medical school, and besides, the school had just closed down."

Kevin's hand on Lyle's shoulder twitched slightly, and his eyes, which had been burning with passion, began to dart around. "Well... hehe, it's alright, Lyle. You actually have potential in other areas, you just haven't discovered it yet. Believe me, you can do it."

As Kevin began his usual boasting and joking, Lyle's heart sank. "My purpose in coming here is related to medicine, Kevin. I want to call on all the students of Eiffel Academy to go to the Papal Square and protest against the church."

"My Holy Light! Lyle, this is not appropriate."

"What's wrong with that? Doctors are responsible for life. For them to abolish medicine is to show contempt for life. That's perfectly reasonable."

"This is really unreasonable of us."

"?"

Kevin looked at Lyle with the same look he gave him, as if he were looking at a frog in a well. He sighed, "Lyle, nothing in this world is irreplaceable. Similarly, when it comes to choices, people will choose the better solution."

"I see you're not convinced either. Now... how about this, you take my carriage to Papal Square and you'll understand."

Sitting in the carriage, Lyle began to ponder Kevin's words. What was wrong with this world? Wasn't science and technology the primary productive force anymore? Wasn't knowledge power?

Lyle's thoughts were at the center of a tug-of-war, with the discouraging words of his professors and classmates on one side and the truth he firmly believed in on the other.

The car door opened, revealing a wide church square paved with polished marble. People had to cross the square to enter the Church of Dawn to pray. There were quite a few people, but they didn't make much noise. A solemn atmosphere filled everyone's hearts. In the center of the square, a large group of people had gathered. Lyle looked closely and realized that they were protesters like himself. They had surrounded several church members and only remained silent after being threatened by several paladins.

The priest in the circle seemed fearless, and his next move dazzled Lyle.

"My holy light!"

Chapter Two: Called by the Lord

My holy light.

Before the priest was a long table, on which lay a gaunt man in his thirties or forties. He was poorly clothed, a vagrant, or a beggar. Lyle couldn't tell the difference, but the man stared at the priest with a fascination that seemed to oblivious to everything else. The man's fanaticism chilled Lyle, but he could understand it.

A dozen minutes earlier, a man with severe abdominal bleeding was lifted onto a long table by two knights. He clutched the bleeding wound in pain, but his incorrect posture did not stop the bleeding, and the crimson blood quickly spread around his body.

"He needs to stop the bleeding."

"Sew up the wound."

"Medication is also needed to prevent infection."

The medical students around them voiced their opinions.

He needs a diagnosis to determine if there are any penetrating injuries to the internal organs before deciding on the treatment method.

Clearly, the priest brought in an injured person not to let the doctors demonstrate their skills.

He ignored the sounds around him, staring at the foot-deep wound, blood gushing out as the man's body convulsed.

"Very good, the filth in your body has flowed out with your blood."

These words immediately drew a barrage of insults.

His words and actions were not unfamiliar to doctors; this was the famous bloodletting therapy.

The first treatment listed in the Eiffel Medical School textbook is bloodletting, a practice prevalent among church monks.

Westerners believed that human life depended on four humors: blood, phlegm, black bile, and yellow bile, corresponding to the four elements of air, water, earth, and fire. Blood was considered the dominant humor, and they believed that an excess of blood would lead to an imbalance of the four elements in the body, inducing disease. Bloodletting therapy thus came into being.

The difference lies in the fact that scholars believe bloodletting therapy is a targeted treatment, that is, blood is drawn at the corresponding location where the injury occurs, and the bleeding point is usually not set too large to avoid hemorrhagic shock.

The church, on the other hand, believes that illness is defilement, caused by humanity's original sin and improper behavior. Their strategy is to bleed people, regardless of the location of the bleeding or the size of the wound.

However, I've never heard of bloodletting being used to treat massive bleeding; this priest's mind must have been clouded by holy light.

Lyle also knew that later generations gradually confirmed the harmful effects of bloodletting on the human body, and it was eventually banned.

The man on the long table was trembling less and less; he was about to die.

In contrast, the surrounding students began to stir, and the few in the front row who bumped into the paladin were punched hard.

She knelt on the spot, clutching her stomach.

"Executioner!" "You're an executioner!"

The man's eyes began to roll upwards; he was about to be called by the Lord.

The surrounding students felt helpless; they had come to protest, but this tragedy had occurred. A sense of guilt arose within them, and several began to sob.

But the priest's expression remained unchanged.

He felt it was about time.