Chaldea.
In the empty and deserted corridor, a figure was almost leaning against the wall, walking with difficulty.
"Hah... hah... cough cough—"
Heavy breathing echoed in the open space. That sound, as if lungs were punctured, would make anyone hearing it realize the abnormality in its rhythm.
Combined with occasional coughing, the rhythm of his breathing became even more heart-wrenching, fearing that the owner of this voice might not catch his breath the next second and collapse on the ground.
Under the cold light.
Takumi, walking with difficulty, had an abnormal flush on his cheeks, his originally bright eyes already dim.
Every time he coughed, he had to stop his already slow pace, then gasp hard to adjust his breathing rhythm.
Under this cycle, Takumi's voice became hoarse before long.
Looking at Takumi's right side again.
The right arm that had accompanied him for more than a decade was severed at the root, with only messy bandages wrapped around it.
Scarlet bloodstains seeped through the white bandages, appearing so glaring.
Looking closer, one could discover that these bandages were more "piled" on it than wrapped around it. Only two bandages passed through Takumi's chest, forming a loop to fix all the bandages on the stump.
Having lost his dominant hand, binding it like this was already the limit for Takumi.
Since obtaining Cú Chulainn's Spirit Origin and possessing the physical fitness of a Servant, Takumi had never experienced such a sense of powerlessness as now—
No, accurately speaking, he had experienced it once, shortly after obtaining Siegfried's Spirit Origin.
This was a curse.
Takumi, who already had experience, experiencing this feeling again now, how could he not know that he had been cursed by Goetia?
Only this time, there were no two Saints to baptize him anymore.
The body originally strong enough to split mountains and crack rocks, under the influence of multiple negative statuses, now found even walking so difficult.
Weakness.
Servant-level strength seemed never to have existed in him, even weakened to the point of being inferior to a sick ordinary person.
Stopping every three steps, he staggered to the front of his room.
This room was often open.
But the lights inside were never turned on, only using the light from the corridor outside for illumination.
Walking to his bed, Takumi habitually supported himself on the bed with his hand.
But almost fell headlong onto it.
'Oh, my right hand is gone...'
Finally stabilizing his body, accompanied by violent gasping, Takumi looked blankly at his empty right side.
But having just lost his arm, how could he easily accept this reality?
A feeling like suffocation rushed to his heart along with various thoughts. Takumi blankly maintained the previous posture.
After a good while, he finally came back to his senses.
Smiling miserably, Takumi slowly lay down on the bed, inching to the middle of the bed bit by bit.
Then looking at the familiar ceiling, his eyes stared blankly.
'Cursed, lost Servant strength and dominant arm, wound also inflamed, probably also have a cold...'
'Haha, now buffs are fully stacked.'
Takumi thought with grim humor.
The curse was personally inflicted by Goetia. Apart from experiencing another type of curse when using Siegfried's power back then, Takumi had absolutely no way to counter it.
Moreover, this was a curse planted specifically by a Beast.
Regarding the inflammation of the wound, Takumi had treated it very timely. As soon as he returned, he treated it with Runes. After finally stopping the bleeding, he applied a lot of medicine.
But two days passed. Except for the body gradually becoming powerless, to the point where he couldn't even perceive magical energy now, the symptoms of inflammation showed no signs of slowing down.
As for the cold... hah, just a complication, one more didn't matter.
'Runes can't be used either. I have already used every method I could...'
Then now—
"Wait for death..."
Takumi muttered to himself with a hoarse voice.
The state of his body was still declining. Anyone not a fool could guess what awaited Takumi if he continued to wait like this.
But Takumi was already powerless.
He probably had to spend a lot of effort even to get out of bed now.
Physical fatigue would reflect on the spirit.
Takumi's consciousness gradually became blurred. Familiar faces began to flash before his eyes.
Jeanne, Siegfried... Your Majesty Nero, Jing Ke... Drake, Euryale...
"Sorry..."
failed your expectations.
There was a tremor in the hoarse voice.
But—
'So relaxed, really so relaxed...'
Unlike the voice, there was no unwillingness in Takumi's eyes, only the relief of liberation.
After confirming he was powerless, Takumi finally unloaded the heavy burden on him, throwing everything to the back of his mind, leaving only relaxation in his heart.
What about the fear of death? Probably some.
But the current Takumi just wanted to rest.
'Perhaps the destination reachable by the person named Takumi is just this...'
Blocking his eyes with his left hand, pressing down the tears at the corners of his eyes.
In just a few seconds, his consciousness sank into darkness.
His body also collapsed weakly on the bed.
...
...
...
Unknown how much time passed.
Drip... drip... drip...
Rhythmic dripping sounds reached Takumi's ears.
'Chaldea... leaking?'
Without thinking why there was a dripping sound, Takumi just thought groggily.
Accompanying the dripping sound, consciousness gradually became clear.
The comfortable and familiar mattress beneath him became hard at some point. The dry air was so humid it felt like water could be squeezed out, and permeated with a faint moldy smell...
Eyes struggled to open, blinking more than ten times before opening completely.
"Unfamiliar ceiling..."
What entered his eyes was a ceiling inlaid with seeping wood, stone slabs, and soil.
And unexpectedly low, visually estimated to be only about 1.8 meters high. If a person were taller, maybe they would have to bend down to enter.
Recovering his senses, Takumi sat up from the uncomfortable bed board with nothing on it, looking at the surrounding environment.
Chaldea's cold light was replaced by the warm light of several candles. No windows, everywhere was empty.
There were quite a few pitch-black chains acting as decorations in the room, and not far away was an iron grate door allowing open communication with the opposite side.
"Is this... hell?"
Takumi, whose brain hadn't turned the corner yet, spoke subconsciously.
In his subconscious, he was definitely dead.
"Hmph hahahaha——!"
"Thinking this is hell subconsciously as soon as you wake up?"
"That's right! This is hell! But it is the hell of the self-bound!"
A familiar demonic laughter suddenly rang out.
Takumi, still somewhat in a trance, was awakened instantly. Following the direction the voice came from, Takumi discovered there was actually more than one person in this room.
A man dressed entirely in green and wearing a fedora was sitting on the opposite bed. His feet wearing shoes stepped casually on the bed board. Sitting sideways, he looked at him with a faint smile.
The Count of Monte Cristo, Edmond Dantès.