《The Godking's Legacy》Volume 5 Chapter 14 - Reconstruction (4)
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This is terrifying. Actually…, it’s not so bad. Maybe it’s because I’ve already experienced something like this before. Mm? When have I experienced complete paralysis of the body while a sadist cuts me apart slowly like she’s whittling a tree? Why, recently, of course! This is almost exactly like the time the ruler’s pets, err, underlings—when the ruler’s underlings were given free rein to beat me up under the guise of sparring. At the end, I simply ate painkillers and gave up, letting those supervisors tear me apart limb from limb. In comparison, a few cuts and slices here and there is practically nothing even if I’m deeply concerned about how much blood I’ve lost. According to Ilya, there’s around four or five liters of blood in a human body, and I might not be very good at math, but I’m sure I’ve lost a lot more than five liters of blood. Even if I have a bit more blood than the average person because I also have a tail, this amount of blood loss is still concerning!
“Are you alright?”
Ah? Who said that? I’m a bit light-headed, either from all the blood I’ve lost or all the painkillers the ruler stuffed in me. She didn’t know the exact amount I needed to eat, so she just fed me all the bottles I had. After the ruler cut me open, she didn’t know how to do something, so she went to find someone else. That leaves me all alone in the room with me, Durandal, Puppers, and Sir Pot, but that question just now didn’t belong to any of their voices. Ah! Right, there’s this red bird who’s also stuck with me. As the boss, I can’t show any weakness. “Alright? Of course, I’m alright. I’m better than alright. Why wouldn’t I be alright?”
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“Oh, well, um, it’s just that you’re losing a lot of blood.”
Hmm. Despite this bird looking more awesome than Mrs. Feathers, his personality is really weak, huh? It’s a little cute how he’s concerned about me; it almost makes me feel bad for wanting to eat him earlier. Mm. Now that I look at him more closely, doesn’t he seem like he’ll get along well with Mrs. Feathers? Yeah! Rather than Mr. Feathers Number One, I should call him Mrs. Feathers’ Future Husband. Even if his name became a teensy bit longer, it’s still more accurate that way. Why’s he looking at me like that? I didn’t even tell him his new name yet! Oh, right. “I lose blood all the time. Just give the cuts a minute, and they’ll be healed in a jiffy.”
“It’s been much longer than a minute,” the red bird said. “Despite that, your injuries are showing no signs of healing. Are you absolutely sure you’re alright? I’m worried because, as the only living creature around, I’ll be blamed if you die.”
Not healing? That’s odd. My wounds usually heal up pretty fast. I mean, it takes less than a few seconds for one of my arms to regrow, so why am I still bleeding now? …Is this related to the ruler saying some ominous words before leaving? I’m pretty sure she said something weird. Did she make a mistake in her cutting process and somehow ruin my natural recovery abilities!? Alright, Lucia, don’t panic. I’ve been through an awful lot of near-death situations, and not once have I died. I’ll make it through this one too; in fact, I even know the technique I’m going to use to survive. “Teacher, help! Your most precious and favoritest disciple is dying of blood loss!”
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“Calm down. Even if you die, I have ways to bring you back to life.”
“I knew I could count on you, Teacher!” Not even a second after I shouted, the ruler came back with … a big spider? Do squirrels have some kind of special relationship with spiders? Am I a bad squirrel for squishing spiders in the past? Ah, wait, no, I think I heard something incredible just now. “You can bring me back to life if I die?”
The ruler blinked at me. “You cut your own head off to escape from prison, and you’re surprised I can bring you back to life if you die?”
…She has a point. Now that I’m hearing someone say it out loud, aren’t I incredible for surviving after having my head chopped off? And I wasn’t the one that cut it off! That bloody squirrel—who definitely didn’t murder her husband—kicked my sword. I wonder how she’s doing. Mm, without a corrupt supervisor manning the prison, she and all the other prisoners should’ve been released. I’m sure they’re doing fine. I’m getting distracted again, and I haven’t been this easily distracted ever since arriving in the immortal realm. Is this a side effect of losing blood? If that’s the case, doesn’t that mean blood is super-important for focusing? If I drank a focused person’s blood, would meditation be easier? Hmm.
“There’s a mistake over here.”
Did the spider just point at my boob and call it a mistake? I’m still bound to the two pillars the ruler put down, and the only things I can move are my mouth and my eyes. In that case, isn’t there only one thing to do after being insulted? “Teacher, your most precious and favoritest disciple is being bullied by a spider.”
“Master Seven Legs isn’t bullying you,” the ruler said and took out her knife. “She’s right.” Then, as I expected upon seeing the weapon, I was stabbed right in the spot the spider pointed out. It’s still really weird how I can feel the knife going into my body, splitting my flesh, and scraping my bones but not feel any pain at all. What if this is how trees feel? Do trees even feel? I’m sure they do.
“There’s a mistake here and here too,” the spider named Master Seven Legs said, pointing at different spots of my body. I don’t understand though. The spider has eight legs, so….
“Why are you called Master Seven Legs?”
The spider blinked all of its eyes at me. “Because I have seven legs.”
“But … you have eight legs?”
“Yes, but I also have seven legs. After all, how can you have eight without seven?”
Uh…. I don’t get it, but I’m not going to ask. Obviously, this spider is crazy. If I irritate her with my questions, what if she points out mistakes on my body that aren’t there? I think I finally understand what Ilya means when she says nothing good comes from provoking crazy people. …What was the context again? Mm, I don’t remember. I think the blood loss is messing with my head.
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