Meilyr woke up amidst smoke and crackling fire.
A powerful throb resonated as Warden Sidonia's Theurgic Field crumbled, bringing down Ushpia's barrier and alarming his senses.
He jolted upwards, realizing that the landscape had completely changed during his brief tumble into unconsciousness.
No, wait—from his point of view, his stupor had only lasted as long as his conversation with Irqu-neya. His current reading of the Vile Ichor proved that much more time had passed in reality.
It seems like time flows differently in the depths of my psyche.
He looked around, noticing a sprawled row of injured—Gal-Enshu, Gessius, Vivi, Emil, and Pellio were all huddled together, their wounds tended to by Harpax.
"Hey, can you take care of me, too?" Icilia feigned agonizing moans on the fuming ground, pointing at her neck. "See? I've got a nasty bruise here. A moist kiss should suffice to alleviate the pain~"
