CW: Gore/Self Harm
One's brain was a resource hog. Being knocked helped not just release fatigue, but also made it easier to heal, so it was pretty difficult for me to handle myself as I was being dragged away by the goons of the demon king. These bastards looked rather similar to humans but had the heads of rams with long horns curving to the back.
I was pulled up on the shoulder of two of them as they moved me from wherever I was in the castle to the lower floors.
The dry, heated air and its stench stung me with each gust in this place. The castle made of stones didn't need any lights either as the blood-red sky of hell never changed, leaving all the walls dark and musty.
It was trash.
I would have preferred fainting and then kicking into action with a lighter head.
Heck, even now, the plan of action I had in mind was pretty tame.
But I had someone to return to.
I had to go back to the lady, and I had to find a way to make sure that I change her fate.
