In the quiet corridor, the sound of breathing grew heavier, as if you could see the mist exhaled from those shallow lips.
Instinctively, there was some resistance to the sound that emerged beside the ear... In a haze, Lancelot began to become unclear about the appearance of the other person—although this face should have been deeply engraved in his mind.
What is she saying, Aquitaine's... Eleanor?
A very familiar feeling quietly crossed his heart, about to drown reason in the overwhelming sensation that was flooding his senses.
"The master said, since this is your life during the holiday, no matter what you encounter, we will not provide assistance... Therefore, what remains in your body, you must force it out by yourself… Or do you intend to simply succumb?"
He could no longer hear anything, only the endless, tide-like influx... Lancelot's whole body was hunched up, his knees fell to the ground, and his head touched the floor.
The body continuously trembled.
