Lycas closed the door and hung a wooden sign that read “Out, Clinic Closed” on it.

“Hey, Nicostratus, you’re going out?!” the owner of the butcher shop across the street shouted loudly, waving his boning knife.

Nicostratus snorted, not wanting to pay attention to this butcher. He had always believed that it was precisely because this butcher shouted and hawked his wares across the street every day that wealthy people were reluctant to visit his clinic. He had thought about moving the clinic several times, but housing prices in Croton were high. The location of the houses he could afford was even worse than here, so he had never given this rude neighbor a friendly face.

“How long will you be gone?!” The butcher was used to the physician’s attitude. Seeing no answer, he asked even louder.

The well-behaved Lycas saw his teacher’s face darkening and hurriedly answered for him, “About twenty days, Uncle Kus.”

“So long!” the butcher exclaimed. “What if we get sick and you’re not here?!”

Nicostratus’s face twitched a few times. He couldn’t help but turn back and shout, “Then hold off getting sick until I come back!”

“Getting sick isn’t something I can decide; that’s all the gods’ pranks!” the butcher complained.

Nicostratus didn’t want to pay him any more attention and strode forward.

“Physician Nicostratus, going out for so long, where are you headed?” another person asked.

This time, Nicostratus stopped because the inquirer was a merchant from the bakery, a rare and important customer who paid a handsome consultation fee every time he visited.

“To Thurii,” he answered seriously.

“Thurii? Were you invited to treat patients?” The merchant saw Lycas carrying a medical chest and said proudly, “Our Croton’s medical skills are famous throughout Magna Graecia! Theonia just has a larger territory and can fight wars, but in other aspects, it’s far behind Croton with its long history!”

His words resonated with the butcher. “You’re absolutely right! Those people in the north are actually just refugees; what culture or city-state traditions do they have!”

Theonia’s influence in Magna Graecia grew year by year, making the ordinary citizens of the once-powerful Croton feel a sense of loss. Out of sour grapes mentality, they always loved to compare their city-state’s advantages with Theonia and then mock the Theonians to gain some psychological satisfaction.

Nicostratus offered a few perfunctory words and quickly walked out of his neighborhood.

“Ignorant,” he muttered softly only then.

The rise of Croton’s medical skills originated with Democedes a century ago. This Croton native aspired to become the best physician in the Mediterranean when he was young. He traveled to various city-states to learn medicine. After completing his studies, he practiced in Athens and earned a large sum of money due to his excellent skills. Later, he went to Samos to treat its tyrant. However, it coincided with the Persian invasion of Asia Minor. Samos was captured, and he became a prisoner, escorted to Susa.

It happened that Darius, the King of Kings, fell ill. Democedes cured him and was released from prison to serve the royal family, but he was restricted from returning to Greece.

Living in Persia for five or six years, he missed his hometown thousands of miles away dearly.

One day, Atossa, Darius’s queen and daughter of Cyrus the Great, developed a lump on her breast that no one could cure, causing her great suffering. Hearing of Democedes’ superb medical skills, she tried him as a last resort, allowing this Greek into the inner court for treatment, promising that if cured, the Queen would grant any of his requests.

As a result, Democedes restored Queen Atossa’s health. At his request, Atossa suggested to Darius that Democedes could lead Persian spies to travel around Greece to collect intelligence, preparing for the future conquest of Greece.

Darius agreed, and Democedes swore he would return to Susa.

However, once he left Persia, he found an opportunity to shake off the Persians’ surveillance and fled back to Croton.

At that time, although Persia was powerful, it had not yet gone to war with mainland Greece, nor could it influence the Western Mediterranean thousands of miles away, so the matter was left unsettled.

Democedes opened a clinic in his hometown and accepted many apprentices. He selflessly passed down his years of medical experience and the medical skills that integrated Greek and Persian knowledge. This greatly improved the medical level of the Croton city-state, establishing the premier status of Croton physicians in Magna Graecia for a hundred years.

But in recent years, Theonia’s medical level had risen rapidly, just like its league’s strength. It was said that some difficult and complicated diseases that Croton physicians couldn’t solve were miraculously cured or improved by Theonian physicians. Some terminally ill Greeks from outside the Theonian League tried visiting Theonian hospitals and mostly returned home with joy. Thus, the reputation that “Theonian physicians have superb skills taught by Hades” gradually spread…

As far as Nicostratus knew, quite a few wealthy Croton citizens had frequently gone to Theonia’s center, Thurii, for medical treatment in recent years. Theonian physicians even organized something called the South Italian Medical Forum, held once every spring, inviting physicians from the Theonian League and its allies to gather in Thurii to discuss new medical discoveries and exchange skills.

Last year was the first session. The conservative Nicostratus didn’t go, but chatting with colleagues who returned, the fragments of novel medical theories and methods from Theonia they mentioned surprised him and provoked deep thought.

Therefore, at the beginning of this year, when Thurii Hospital sent invitations to various allied states, he eagerly prepared to set off.

Originally, taking a ship from the port with a favorable wind would only take half a day to reach Thurii, but the unfortunate Nicostratus suffered from seasickness and could only travel by land.

Arriving at the north gate, another physician, Stasippus, was already waiting there. The three left Croton city, stepping on the soft dirt road, heading north.

They arrived at the pontoon bridge over the Neto River.

During the Second War with Croton, the pontoon bridge was burned to prevent Theonians from breaking through to Croton city. When rebuilt, for some reason, the bridge deck was not only narrower but also less stable than before.

Crossing the bridge, Stasippus couldn’t help but complain, “The bridge over the Crati River in Thurii is a real wooden bridge, wide and flat, and ships can pass underneath. Compared to them, our pontoon bridge looks like it was built by natives!”

Nicostratus didn’t speak. He remembered that Croton had held a Citizen Assembly last year specifically to discuss whether to invite Theonians to help build a wooden bridge over the Neto River. The proud Croton citizens mostly opposed it, causing the proposal to fail. Nicostratus himself was one of them. His thought was like most people’s: facilities like roads and bridges were fine as long as they were usable. The treasury’s money should be used to repair public facilities like theaters, arenas, and temples, or even to distribute extra benefits to citizens during special festivals.

Blessed by the gods, Magna Graecia had enjoyed favorable weather and consecutive bumper harvests in recent years. Coinciding with frequent wars in the surrounding areas over the past two years, grain prices had risen. Citizens made a small profit selling grain in the market after keeping enough for themselves. So spring came early this year, and citizens, full of energy, took their slaves to the fields early to plant wheat seedlings.

Walking on the Croton Plain, one could see endless green wheat fields as far as the eye could see. Slaves worked diligently in the fields.

Spring rains were frequent, making the roads muddy. To prevent falling, Nicostratus and his group walked slowly. It wasn’t until the afternoon that they walked out of Croton’s territory.

When they were trudging through the slippery mud, one deep step after another, and their feet began to ache, a flat, solid, and broad road unfolded before their eyes. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

“Teacher Stasippus!” Lycas, who had never traveled far since childhood, shouted excitedly. “Is this the Crimisa-Asprostum Highway built by Theonia that you mentioned?!”

“That’s right.” Stasippus glanced at Nicostratus. “Old friend, what do you think of this road?”

Nicostratus snorted and didn’t speak. He walked straight ahead to an empty stone pier among some resting travelers outside the pedestrian lane and sat down. He already had some back problems, and after walking that stretch of road just now, he felt like his back was about to break.

Lycas was young and energetic. Seeing the heavy traffic on the highway, he found it very lively. He even crossed the drainage ditch, wanting to try walking on the main road. As a result, he was nearly hit by a pack wagon and received a scolding from the driver, retreating awkwardly to the pedestrian lane.

Nicostratus scolded him a bit, and he quieted down. But after a while, he pulled Stasippus again and asked, “What is that wagon for?”

Looking in the direction he pointed, a covered pack wagon pulled by two horses was driving north at a relatively fast speed. The canvas on both sides was painted with Theonia’s symbol, the “Bident and Cerberus.” Vehicles on the highway intentionally made way to the sides.

“That is a mail coach.”

“Mail coach?”

“That’s what Theonians call it. It’s specifically responsible for delivering letters and parcels for the people between two places. It is said that Theonia has a department specifically responsible for this matter,” Stasippus said.

“This method is quite good; it’s convenient for the citizens of the city-state,” Nicostratus interjected.

“It would be great if our Croton also had mail coaches! At least delivering medicine to patients wouldn’t require running back and forth, wasting time,” Lycas said somewhat enviously.

“Young man, that costs money,” Stasippus sighed.