Chapter 133

"Ow, damn it! Isn't my entire back skinned? Don't I have a layer of skin left?"

"D-don't exaggerate. I d-didn't scrub that h-hard!"

"Has this woman gone mad! After scouring with a brush, she says she didn't scrub hard!"

Leandros didn't know where to begin with his criticism.

Whether the problem was the man who had been dragged away by a woman and forcibly bathed,

Or the woman who had taken a grown man and personally scrubbed him clean.

Either way, it seemed like both were problematic.

So Leandros said just one thing.

"Be quiet. Do you both want to be thrown out?"

Leandros and Amelia had unpacked at one of the larger and nicer inns in Gallo.

The inn was usually quiet thanks to its dignified guests, but because of this, the quarrel between Werner and Amelia sounded even louder.

Leandros made one more plea in front of the room where Arenheit was placed.

"If complaints come in from other guests because of your shouting, I'll throw you out in that moment, treatment or not."

"You know how to threaten people. I'll restrain myself, so hurry up and open it."

When Werner urged him, Leandros held the doorknob for a moment, waiting, then reluctantly opened it.

The room was three times larger than the one Werner had been staying in.

It smelled pleasant, and the neatly arranged luggage remained unpacked.

One person was lying on the bed.

The young man with blood-red hair had his eyes closed as if asleep, but white frost was visible on his fingertips.

The air was strangely cold even just approaching the bed.

Though they had changed his clothes before laying him down, so the bedding was clean, the blood droplets frozen solid on his skin remained.

As soon as the door opened, Werner leaped out like a rabbit and clung to the side of the bed.

While Leandros and Amelia entered and locked the door, Werner was already examining Arenheit, pulling out various items from his bag.

"Wow, it's real... Completely frozen. At this point, I wonder if the muscles will be able to move normally when thawed. The heart isn't beating either. It's really like he's been taxidermied."

Taxidermied. An unpleasant word.

Amelia and Leandros frowned, but Werner kept chattering away, unconcerned with their feelings.

"Look at this, some animals drastically lower their heart rate and play dead when their lives are threatened. But a human's heart completely stopping? This has never happened before. I've seen all kinds of bizarre patients, but the Duke is in a league of his own. Truly impressive. Amazing. Wow, really. It's the first time I can't predict what's ahead!"

"Weren't you supposed to be examining, not observing?"

"Ah, right. I got too interested."

Only then did Werner begin to roll up Arenheit's arms or part his shirt to check inside.

After examining every corner of the body, Werner turned to Leandros and Amelia.

"The external injuries are severe. One ear is practically gone, and the entire body has been bitten. Did you roll around in the midst of a starving wolf pack? What does one do to end up like this?"

"Continue."

"Since the body is hardened, I can't lift the arms or legs, so I'm not sure where else he might be injured."

"Is treatment impossible?"

"Why are you like this? I'm Werner. I drag back to the land of the living even reckless new mercenaries who wander between life and death."

He flipped his bag and emptied all its contents.

Medicine bottles and bandages tumbled down in a cascade.

Werner pushed up his cracked glasses and spoke.

"If he suddenly thawed in this state, death from blood loss would be unavoidable. The blood would flow out faster than I could treat him. But if we can melt him slowly, it's not impossible."

"In that case."

"We need to thaw him as slowly as possible. Can you do that? And you two will have to be my temporary assistants. I only have two arms, can't help it, right?"

Amelia nodded and rolled up her sleeves.

Leandros approached the bed and completely removed the blanket covering Arenheit.

Scissors to cut clothes, sufficient bandages, ointment to prevent infection, clean towels to wipe accumulated blood, and two assistants.

Werner cheerfully exclaimed.

"Let's begin!"

Leandros placed his hand on Arenheit's chest.

The hard, cold flesh slowly began to warm.

From the center of the dry chest, the frost clinging to the body and hair slowly started to melt.

Beneath his palm, Leandros felt the heartbeat starting, slowly and faintly.

Blood melted from the bitten body, leaving red marks on the white sheets.

And, simultaneously.

"The n-neck!"

Amelia screamed.

Blood gurgled and surged from the pale neck of Arenheit.

Werner, with blood splashing onto his face, pressed a towel against the wound.

The work of resurrecting the dead was just beginning.

* * *

Kind and gentle hands were touching his body.

Cold hands patiently built up his collapsing body one piece at a time.

Placing the heart in the center, surrounding and protecting the chest.

Molding the neck and face above it, and carefully containing the trembling brain.

Below, arms and legs suitable for a human, with hands and feet that had five fingers at their ends.

He waited obediently, feeling dizzy as if drunk on extremely strong alcohol.

The part he recognized as his head was throbbing and felt dull.

The owner of the hands, who had carefully placed his eyes, muttered.

"Fortunate that this is Dreamland, worshipper."

The eyes rolled according to his will, but he couldn't answer the question asked.

It was before his mouth had been made.

As if understanding his silence, the owner continued speaking while making his ears more delicately.

"If you had done this in the real world, you would have been broken beyond repair. But here, as long as your consciousness remains, you won't die."

"......"

"Countless humans from countless dimensions who tried to understand the Pnakotic have met death. Even just from reading copies! But look at this, worshipper."

"......"

"You are the only human who possesses the original ancient grimoire. The grimoire has chosen you as well."

Grimoire.

Pnakotic.

Dreamland and worshipper.

Lord of the Extreme Realm.

Grimoire and Ultar.

Endlessly high tower.

Only then did his memories slowly return.

It burned hotly, as if the language of the universe had been seared into his brain.

Once the snowman with Leandros's face gave him a mouth, he could finally move his lips.

"Grimoire... Pnakotic..."

"Yes. That. The memoirs left by the Great Elder Things, the Ancient Wanderers. All the gods, beings, and artifacts they saw and experienced are written in that book."

"Elder Things..."

"Honestly, I thought your mind might collapse. But seeing that you obtained the grimoire, it seems you have remarkable mental strength."

Even after ending up like this?

This was "remarkable mental strength"?

Unable to make a judgment, he just looked at the snowman, who replied with uncharacteristic kindness.

"Let's consider this the limit of being human. And you are a superior human. Thanks to you, I've gained memories that weren't boring."

So his melting was just treated as an amusing event to this snowman, the Lord of the Extreme Realm.

Somehow feeling upset, his entire body began to slacken again, and the snowman hurriedly fixed his form while making excuses.

"No, the great me told you about the existence of the grimoire and helped you interpret the Elder Things' language. The fact that your mind didn't completely collapse is partly because I blessed you. Don't melt away just because you're upset about that."

"Book... How..."

"Since the original in Dreamland has been attributed to you, you should be able to see it in the real world too. The blessing of this body still remains in your eyes. You'll surely be able to recognize it."

How?

He had many questions he wanted to ask, but his mind, body, and tongue kept melting away.

Seeing this, the snowman clicked his tongue.

"The shock must have been considerable. Worshipper, it's time for you to return now."

"How..."

"Returning is easy. You just need to wake up. Since they're calling for you outside, you just need to come to your senses."

So how?

He continued to melt away, ruminating on the stellar characters.

The snowman looked down at him and then got up.

"I'll help you just this once, worshipper. Worship me with gratitude for the rest of your life."

The snowman raised one leg.

With a sound like "kwak," the sole of his shoe crushed his eye.

And simultaneously, he opened his eyes.

"Huh!"

"Y-Your Grace, y-your mind, your m-mind!"

"Stop that bleeding! Don't be surprised, just stop it! Get a grip, woman!"

"Your Grace, please don't get up. Stay lying down."

Where was this?

His entire body hurt.

His head was dizzy, and the burning sensation was still vivid.

Moreover, strength kept draining from his body, and his vision kept flickering, darkening and brightening.

Someone do something!

"We're almost done. Your Grace, we're almost finished."

"Tie that tightly! Hey, Your Grace. Can you hear me? Don't turn your head, stay still. If you make even a small mistake, four hours of effort could be wasted."

Who are you?

The sound of chatter buzzed loudly.

His chest felt tight, making it hard to breathe properly.

Tears flowed unknowingly.

Even the stimulation of a towel wiping his face was overwhelming.

There seemed to be the smell of blood, and his whole body felt sticky.

Someone's hand moistened his lips with water.

"Y-Your Grace, wake up, y-you can't fall asleep! Open your eyes!"

Thwack. His face turned.

But it didn't hurt. The pain was felt slowly and dully.

"Crazy woman! Who slaps a patient's face!"

"But if h-he falls asleep like th-this, he'll d-die!"

"Are you sane? Are you more insane than me?"

So Amelia had slapped him.

But thanks to that, his mind was slowly returning.

The man who called Amelia a crazy woman was roughly cutting off bandages, and beads of sweat had formed on Amelia's forehead.

And Leandros was there too.

His hair was black, so this one was the real one.

Suddenly, someone pushed Leandros aside and took up his field of vision.

"Hey. Your Grace. Blink if you can see me."

He blinked several times.

Only then did the man with dark green hair show a relieved expression.

"Can you remember your own name? If yes, blink once, if no, twice."

Blink.

"Blink once if you understand what I'm saying now. Your Grace, your entire body is injured like someone who rolled through a thornbush. For a while, you shouldn't speak or move."

Blink.

But who was this person?

"My name is Verde, and I'll be treating you for the time being. Your subordinates here requested me, so you can trust me."

Blink.

Only then did the man called Verde remove his face.

There was a sound of someone plopping down, followed by a deep sigh.

"I'd rather perform surgery scraping bones. Block one place, and blood gushes from another; block that, and yet another place... I thought it was a pig's bladder filled with blood."

"Don't t-talk about His Grace l-like that!"

"Why? People are generally bladders filled with blood. Oh, I'm dead tired. How many hours did you make someone work? Hey, you, Leandros, was it? Get me a nice room."

"You're not returning to the mercenary band's inn?"

"What if His Grace's condition suddenly worsens after I go there? I need to be nearby to handle it immediately."

After several back-and-forth exchanges, Verde finally seemed to have secured a satisfactory room, as he left the room humming.

All this time, he had lain motionless.

Someone held his left hand tightly.

"Y-Your Grace. You're a-alive. Thank goodness. I'm t-truly thankful."

Leandros, too, must have returned after seeing Verde off, as the bed sank down on one side.

This time, a careful warmth was transmitted to his right hand.

"...Thank goodness."

The two kept muttering how thankful they were and didn't let go of his hands.

Thus, his first day back in reality came to an end.