At that time, Nuriel didn't particularly feel the need to stay awake. It felt as if his mind was screaming at him to take a rest and so he did.
When he woke up, there was no sight of the throne room. Instead he begrudgingly rose from a soft bed, with half of his face covered by a cloth.
'Huh…'
His vision was hazy. So was his mind. He couldn't quite tell what was going on around him. For a moment, he thought he was back in the real world, but as his cognitive abilities gradually returned, he quickly realized he had only been daydreaming.
He looked around and saw a field hospital hastily set up while he was asleep. Judging by the orange and violet light filtering through the tent it had to be either sunrise or sunset.
'Is it sunset?... No, I don't feel hungry.' Nuriel continued scanning the surroundings, noticing the many beds placed in orderly rows.
He saw people laying still in sleep. Some were draped in white cloth with blood staining the center. Others were just waking up, some staring in shock at where their legs used to be. A few were playing card games, quietly trying to distract themselves from their reality.
Doctors and surgeons worked tirelessly, prioritizing those most gravely injured or whoever was screaming louder.
[Tainted Scepter Fragment of ??? has been obtained]
[All Tainted Scepter Fragments of ??? will now be automatically converted to the Scepter Fragment of the Blessed Desacares]
[Due to the corruption of the scepter, application of the hardware has taken longer than usual]
[Applying new hardware]
[Status Update]
[Processing speed slightly increased]
[Limited scepter interface in the waking world]
[Collect more fragments to create a Scepter Chunk...
. . .
He turned his attention to Vivienne, who sat beside him, asleep. Remarkably—though not to his surprise, she remained spotless and entirely free of injuries.
He turned his head the other way and saw Edward sitting on his bed, leaning against the tent wall that buckled under his silhouette. To Nuriel's actual surprise, he looked completely at peace, even content. Gone was the expression he wore last night.
Nuriel turned once more, this time observing the others whose lives had been changed by the disaster. Some had bandages covering their entire faces. Others looked physically fine, yet mentally detached from reality.
He looked at Vivienne. Then Edward. Then the others.
Despite not causing the injuries himself, he felt as though he were the direct reason behind them.
Remembering the students from the college of war, Nuriel hunched over and began replaying the brutalization of young students fighting against a strange entity.
If he hadn't intervened, would they have lived? or would more have died?
Since projecting unto Yevdokiya's scepter worked, were their lives meaningless?
But if he hadn't sacrificed them, he wouldn't have had the opportunity to connect with the entity's scepter. or would that have worked regardless if the students weren't there or not?
He might've gotten an opportunity with Yevdokiya's increased fire power, but would that have actually been enough?
Then were those anti aircraft guns needed in the end?
[Processing speed slightly increased]
Slightly.
. . .
. . .
. . .
Nuriel paused his thoughts. But each time he tried to stop thinking, his mind raced toward more alternate conclusions—like an endless circuit loop due to a failure in logic.
Before he even knew it, his throat suddenly swelled up, making him cover his mouth in anticipation.
He held it in, and before he could unleash a mess onto his bedsheets, a sudden call made him freeze during the climax.
"Edward?!" Sayla barged into the tent, her clothes were still the same as before, but they were tattered and messy.
Before long, Edward shot his glance up toward the call, then dashed toward her with his face looking as if he had seen a ghost.
The two hugged each other in a warm embrace.
Cough.
Nuriel choked on his breath, grateful that her sudden appearance saved his bedsheets from the worst-case scenario. While coughing, he suddenly felt taps on his back.
He turned toward the source, then saw Vivienne patting him on the back with an awkward face.
'...'
***
Nearly all of the population were busy near the sites of the disaster—cleaning up charred debris, retrieving bodies that were either intact or in pieces, locating any important remains like research or artifacts.
Because of that, the other streets of the university were dead silent. Nuriel presumed that all activities would simply be cancelled due to such a grievous disaster. He grimaced at the thought of waking up early despite not needing to clock in.
But of course, they still needed to show up just in case. After all, there was no fast form of mass media in this world, so updates didn't really get to them immediately.
Nuriel was in a wheelchair. This was his first time experiencing such a thing. Back then, he imagined how hard it would've been to move around, but thanks to Vivienne, this experience was much better than walking!
"We're going to the market," she announced to Nuriel.
It felt more like an order, but since Nuriel was the one in the wheelchair—he had no say in this, however. 'Is it really open in a time like this?'
. . .
'It is open!' Nuriel gawked at the university's public market.
He half expected it to be open to the environment and be a bit dirty, but it was surprisingly comparable to that of supermarkets in his old world.
Inside, he watched as Vivienne continuously picked up different kinds of produce and items, then placed them on Nuriel's lap.
'I wonder if she's blown through the golden eagle I shared with her.' Nuriel inspected the item she bought—a smooth paper bag with the slight smell of ground coffee.
One item after the other, his vision slowly got covered by more and more things.
Suddenly, Nuriel had a revelation!
'I've been degraded into a shopping cart…' Nuriel quietly sulked.
***
Nuriel carried himself toward his bed.
Thankfully, only one of his legs suffered superficial cuts, while the other was mostly usable. So for now, he had to make do with one dysfunctional leg.
Plop.
The soft mattress engulfed him, making him think about buying a cane to cope with his temporary disability.
'I haven't been up to date with the fashion of this world... If I wanted a cane, it would have to be...
Hard
So I can whack something with it...'
Without noticing, Nuriel eventually slept away—then found his feet planted on the floor made from nothing.
Nuriel inspected his legs, tapping his heel on the ground, then his toes, before lightly jumping a few times.
He tapped his chest, feeling the soft fabrics of his pajamas before imagining himself wearing his usual suit, even though no one would care.
'Time to study—
"!!!"
Nuriel froze in place. He would always spawn a few paces away from the throne, and he would have to walk there all the time.
Right now, he was seeing a tiny white orb with two extended tendrils that were holding an open book, looking as if it was reading!
'A damn book!' Nuriel's mind screamed.
Somehow, as if the orb heard his mind, it immediately dashed to the untainted scepter in a stream of gooey light, leaving the book to puff into smoke.