(Part 11) Reincarnated as an Elf Mage’s Cell

A lush forest filled with colorful trees cast their shadows upon a smooth trail. Walking along that trail…or rather limping, Lyrielle slowly drags her body across.

Her normally peach skin is discolored.

Her face is peppered with bluish-purple.

Her body temperature is high enough to make sweat drop profusely like raindrops

Every step she takes removes more air from her lungs, and her breath can only recover half.

“A-almost…j-just a…l-little…m-more…cough cough”

Lyrielle’s body is only able to function as is due to her determined soul that abides within. But even her soul, no matter its willpower, must succumb to the reality that she could no longer ignore–

–if she pushed her fragile body even more, she’d commit suicide.

Her will to live brings her closer to death much faster.

Without her will to live, she would allow her body to live a little longer.

A paradox.

“I…c-can’t…cough cough”

Rapidly losing energy like a draining battery, Lyrielle’s body has no more to spend. With the last of her efforts, Lyrielle pushes herself against a nearby tree slightly off the path and slides down to the grassy ground to finally let her body have a say in the matter.

“...sniff…swe…ets…haah”

Breathing through her nose, Lyrielle recognizes a pleasantly familiar aroma. Even in the state that she’s in, her body can’t help but drool uncontrollably, though she is powerless to keep it from leaking from her lips or wipe it from her cheek.

“Keep…fighting…please…cough cough”

All she can do is place her hands on her chest–over her heart.