With no obstacles blocking my way to freedom, Hector and I continue to spend our time in the holding room.

It’s been a couple of weeks, over the time I’ve been with him, we’ve grown close, sharing our experiences and situations with each other. I actually found his life before getting captured quite relatable. I regret not meeting this man earlier in my life; perhaps, if I actually had, I could have avoided being brought into such a situation. However now there is no time for regretting anything.

Though the time I have spent with him has been nice, I can see his health has worsened over time. He seems to be more sluggish while talking and constantly looks to be in great discomfort. And while the logical side of me knows this is a good thing, the time I’ve spent with him has made looking at him as a mere sacrifice in my escape difficult. Every time the commoner in charge of Hector comes in to check his health, I have a great urge to tell him to start nursing Hector back to health, yet I still push it down. Besides, no matter how bad I feel, I am sure that Hector is feeling much worse, and yet he still hangs on for the greater good. How can I put an end to such determination?

Speaking of the man in charge of Hector's care, he started asking about why Hector's situation was getting worse. I replied with some made-up fact that spirits subject their healing targets to tests checking their determination and will so they can be sure that the person they're healing deserves to be healed. The man bought it, out of either disinterest in his duties or sheer stupidity, and the fact that the commoner originally seemed quite dedicated to carrying out the man's orders, I’d argue the latter.

Further time passed, and the bad situation of Hector's body became much worse. A horrid scent started spreading in the room, and he could barely even focus on conversations. Sometimes he just started crying out of nowhere, probably from the pain and the sheer discomfort of the infected wound. Yet still, he hasn’t given in. I admire his determination.

However, Hector's caregiver has gotten a bit suspicious, though still, I doubt he will do anything before it’s too late. I estimate around one to two weeks remain of Hector's life.

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One day, as I’m sitting to myself meditating and sensing my soul, I am suddenly snapped out. The door to the room swings open and instead of seeing the face of the commoners I am used to, someone else shows his face, well more like mask, his dark mask.

It’s the man. He came back, came back early. Damn it, no, goddamn it all. Couldn’t he have waited one more week? I look at Hector. Though he looks extremely bad, his body is still hanging on. If one would try, he could probably be saved or at least kept alive.

This means all my effort, well, mostly all Hector's effort, went to waste. Damn, damn it all. If the gods gave me a way to escape, why did they take it away afterward? Is it for my torment? Was it a test? Was I not supposed to trick Hector but work alongside him?

Whilst I struggled with my inner turmoil, the man walked up to Hector and checked him out, after which he started throwing what could only be called a hissy fit. One of the commoners, specifically the one that I tricked, tried to approach, likely to explain what I did. But thankfully for me, the man stabbed him out of annoyance, which means I get to avoid getting a skin-peeling session.

After the man calmed himself down, he said, “This man is probably not going to be able to walk on his own. I need you idiots to bring him to a certain location.” My eyes widen in surprise. The fact that he said that means that he’s planning to take him somewhere. Considering that he probably has no use for Hector himself but only his robes and necklace, the only reason he could be sent out is to be disposed of.

I mostly assumed that the man was planning to get another person to replace Hector. But considering the fact that he’s sending him off to die means that he has other plans.

As I sit there and wonder, I see the man slit the throat of the poor commoner he previously stabbed. And with a threat made and orders sent, the three remaining commoners rushed over to Hector's disheveled form and carried him off.

I look at Hector with a pitiful and sorrowful gaze. If the man was planning to send him off to die since the beginning, I basically tricked Hector into making his last days a living hell.