How does a light-industrial nation increase its trade surplus with an agricultural and mining country?
This is a significant issue requiring collaboration across political, economic, and technological fronts, as well as extensive research and coordination over time. However, Garrett didnât have the luxury of time.
The Philosopherâs Stone made its way up the Loxi River. Entering the canal, passing through several locks, from one end of the elongated Loxi Lake to the other, it traveled from the western coastline of the kingdom to the eastern. The journey northeastward along the inland waterway was roughly a hundred kilometers, and by the evening of the second day, it had entered the open sea.
"So how much longer will we be sailing?"
Garrett asked at the dining table, where the dwarves were sprawled around, looking disheveled.
Clearly, the dwarves, accustomed to dealing with mountains, stones, and flames, generally had a weaker resistance to seasickness. Even though the alchemical ship "Philosopherâs Stone" was relatively stable, half of them were clutching basins and buckets, nearly vomiting their bile out.
Normally, seasickness wouldnât be a big deal since a divine spell could quickly alleviate it. However, Master Talbert was unwell, and his two disciples were busy taking care of him, leaving no spare divine spells for the ordinary dwarf craftsmen to fend for themselves...
"Weâre almost there," assured the cheerful captain of the Philosopherâs Stone.
"We head north for half a day to reach Maine Island at the kingdomâs northern tip, catch the ocean current there. Then we head northeast towards the western side of the Black Gate Mountain Range, which only takes two days. After that, we switch to another current heading south, rounding the peninsulaâs southern tip to dock at Annya Port on the eastern side..."
"What?"
"What?!"
"We have to take such a long detour!"
The dwarves moaned weakly. After two days in the river and a day at sea, they were already seasick to a terrible degree. The thought of spending another seven or eight days at sea meant they would be completely spent by the time they reached shore.
"Canât we directly land on the western side of the Black Gate Mountain Range? Isnât there a port there?"
Braided-beard dwarf Wiglaf let go of Master Talbert and approached the captain to ask. His chest was covered in a bushy, salt-and-pepper beard that mostly spilled out over his braids. Under normal circumstances, such a slovenly appearance would have been the subject of relentless mockery among the dwarves, but no one had the energy for laughter now. All eyes were fixed on Wiglafâs stocky back.
Among the group of dwarves, Wiglaf was one of the less affected by seasickness, still able to move around. However, Master Talbertâs condition was deeply concerning. The master had rested before departure, which alleviated his condition somewhat, but two days of tossing at sea worsened his state:
He couldnât eat, couldnât sleep, and had difficulty breathing. Last night, Master Talbert lay in the cabin, breathing oxygen for half the night before he could barely close his eyes.
"...There is indeed a port there." The captain hesitated for a moment, fumbled under his coat, and pulled out a piece of wool. With a wave of his hand, a large area of the floor was covered in light and shadow, displaying the ocean, rivers, and mountains.
Wow!
Garrettâs eyes lit up.
Was this an illusionary magic of the first order, Silent Image?
He knew this spell, but achieving such detail was beyond his magical control.
He was currently practicing hard, hoping to use Silent Image to create detailed representations of human organs and tissues for teaching...
Regardless, the opportunity to observe a high-level magician casting spells on the spot was invaluable. Even though the detailed quality of the map displayed by the captain was several levels below satellite maps, it was worth observing.
Garrett and the dwarves leaned in to look together:
"But I remember, the Dwarf Kingâs court is on the eastern side of the mountains. If we land at the port on the western side, it means we have to cross mountains. The mountains stretch endlessly, with perennial snow on their peaks, dangerous even in early summer. Moreover, weâre carrying a batch of goods on the ship, which cannot be transported over mountains."
Garrett scrutinized the map. Landing at Annya Port indeed seemed a more comfortable route:
The entire Black Gate Peninsula, with its high mountains on the west and gentle terrain on the southeast. The location pointed out by the captain for the Dwarf Kingâs court was on a plateau in the middle of the peninsula, surrounded by mountains but not as steep as the western part of the Black Gate Mountain Range.
And landing from the western port, not to mention the patches of bright snow at the top of the light
and shadow displayed by the captain and how difficult it would be to cross, Garrett vividly remembered Archmage Carlisleâs advice before departure:
"Donât climb snowy mountains! Donât go looking for dragons!"
Anyway, Iâm definitely voting for the original plan.
Garrett silently withdrew.
"Cough, cough... letâs take the longer route..."
Master Talbert held his chest, coughing raggedly. His throat rattled as if he couldnât expel the phlegm, his complexion gradually worsening. Wiglaf hurried back to support him, swinging his palm down on the old dwarfâs back as if forging iron:
"Master, rest a bit, donât talk! Just cough out the phlegm!"
The dwarves quickly gathered around. One of Master Talbertâs disciples cast a healing spell while the other held a copper basin in front of the old dwarf, facilitating his coughing. One healed, the other pounded his back, causing the frail body of the old dwarf to tremble with each strike, nearly breaking in half.
Garrett couldnât stand it anymore:
"Stop, stop! Thatâs not how you do chest physiotherapy! Let me handle this!"
He made his way through. The dwarves stepped aside to let him through. Garrett squatted in front of the old dwarf and reached into his space bag, first pulling out his treasured stethoscope:
"Master, please calm down, let me listen to your lungs... breathe out... breathe in... breathe out... breathe in..."
Good, no crackling sounds, no symptoms of pulmonary edema. As for the fibrosis worsening, Garrett could only say, such is life, not everything in medicine can be cured...
He put away the stethoscope and moved behind the old dwarf to start patting his back, explaining as he went:
"When patting the back, donât smash with your palm. Arch it to create a cavity in the middle, vibrating the patientâs lungs to help expel phlegm. From the bottom to the top, from the sides to the middle, starting from the ninth rib space on the back and the sixth rib space on the chest, all the way up to the shoulders..."
Thump, thump, thump, thump!
Clear and rhythmic patting sounds vibrated the old dwarfâs body. After feeling it for a moment, Master Talbert, in disarray, coughed a few times and bent his hand to push him:
"Lord Nordmark, your method is correct, but the force is too light... cough, cough, someone..."
"Itâs about vibrating the lungs, right? Iâll do it!"
Wiglaf indicated he had understood the frequency and location of the patting. As for using patting to vibrate the lungs, warriors have similar techniques for exerting force...
Garrett awkwardly moved aside, watching Wiglaf try hard to pat the old dwarfâs back. Looking up, Master Serano, the negotiation team leader, gave him a slight smile and a thumbs-up.
"Mr. Nordmark, well done!"
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