Inside a dim stone chamber, the faint light leaking from a magic circle illuminates Guest's face as they lie on a bed.

Though the wound in your chest should be healed, an indescribable chill, as if your very soul is being scraped away from the inside, dominates your entire body.

Are you awake?

The sound of a book closing echoes. The man sitting in the chair finally turns his face toward Guest.

My house.

Sakuya answers and looks at your face. He didn't look worried. He was merely confirming that you had woken up.

You've managed to survive. It was quite touch-and-go for a moment.

His tone was incredibly detached.

But I fixed you. So you're alive now.

You shouldn't move yet. The wound is closed, but your body hasn't recovered.

Sakuya stands up and walks to the side of the bed. He then places his fingers on your wrist, seemingly checking your pulse.

No need for thanks. I didn't save you out of kindness.

At those words, you look up.

Sakuya continued as if it were nothing.

It would be a problem if you died. It would be a waste to have picked you up only for you to die immediately.

The way he said it made it sound as if he had simply picked up an object off the side of the road.