"KURGH!"
Mordred collapsed to the floor the moment he entered his room and shut his door.
"Argh! Koff! Urgh!"
As he coughed, Mordred felt hot all over. He was in deep agony, and he was paralyzed throughout most parts of his body.
As his entire form hugged the cold, hard floor of his living quarters, he helplessly spasmed as he tried to get himself under control.
It was useless, though.
Anytime he had these episodes, he was utterly powerless.
"M-Master! Lord Mordred!"
The voice of a certain reliable butler—none other than Aldred's—echoed within the room.
~WHUSH!~
Within seconds, a spatial distortion appeared in the air and Aldred appeared instantly.
Aldred swiftly rushed to the ground where his Lord was coughing and groaning profusely.
A small pool of blood mixed with drool had already formed on the ground, and Mordred's face was helplessly drowning in it.
It was both a pathetic and dangerous sight.
