He was in a trance. He was numb. He was in a state of suspension.
The film was cut into disconnected pieces, and the scene changed when he blinked.
He felt intense pain in his chest. A feeling of exhaustion and lethargy gripped his entire body.
Just what on earth happened? Before thinking about such things, the first thing he had to prioritize was—surviving.
What he needed in order to survive was medical treatment—he had to close the wound. But intense pain was attacking him every second, and he couldn’t even form a healing spell in his head.
While groaning in anguish, he moved his hand and touched his chest.
Bullets had been shot into his heart—every time the organ pumped blood, the lodged bullets sent fresh pain through him. First, he had to remove the bullets agitating his body.
A healing spell was impossible for him right now. For the time being, he forcefully stimulated his metabolism by forming prana. He had to drag himself up to the point where he could use regular magecraft.
The harmful fog was also a cause for concern. It was accelerating the deterioration of his physical strength.
Though he didn’t even have a moment to relax, he felt surprisingly calm. Prana, prana was necessary. He took a deep breath and gathered prana. His lungs might be inflamed, but this wasn’t a situation where he could worry about that.
For now, he just gathered up prana. He was beset by head-splitting pain, chipping away even the energy to scream.
More, I need more prana. It’s all right, there’s no problem. This heart has the blood of a dragon flowing within it. So what if I’ve been shot by three bullets? Don’t worry. As if I’d die from something like this—!
His heart muscles made a screeching noise as they removed the foreign substance within him. Activating his Magic Circuits, he accelerated the prana circulating through him, and gradually it began to repair his body.
Somewhere in his heart, a voice asked in doubt, ‘Isn’t there something strange about this?’
It was all well and good that Siegfried’s heart was strong.
And it was all well and good that he had just barely managed to hold onto his fractured consciousness even while suffering through pain as well.
But—still, even so. This healing ability was too abnormal. This situation was similar to when he was cut down by Saber of Red, though of course, the bullet wounds he had received weren’t even comparable in terms of destructive power.
However, back then, he had definitely died once even with this heart.
So why was he not dying this time?
—Don’t think about it now.
He breathed in and out again. He gathered and accumulated prana. He had to stand up now. The enemy hadn’t disappeared like magic, and she hadn’t carelessly let her guard down thinking that he was already dead.
Because, even now, she was gazing at him as he repeatedly breathed and vomited out blood—her gaze cold like that of a snake.