Grey sputtered awake, a bucket of cold water falling on him from overhead. Water went down the wrong pipe and he started hacking and wheezing over the side of a bed he had no recollection of ever getting in.

The jerky movements made his body groan in protest. It didn’t want him to be moving at all right now, and he had to say that he agreed with it.

"What the fuck?!"

Grey realized a little late that someone would have had to drench him just now. Couldn’t they see he was injured? They should have just slit his throat instead and put him out of his misery.

When he saw that it was actually Edmun, he was left more than speechless.

"What the hell kind of master are you? And where the hell am I?"

Grey looked around to find himself in a room with plain brown walls that looked mudded on. The "bed" he was in was more like a cot with bed sheets. It was as hard as the ground, and yet oddly enough the water soaked duvet was as soft as clouds.

He didn’t understand the point of the dichotomy. It felt like the person had spent all their money on the duvet and then ran out when it came time for that actually important part of, you know... a bed—the bed itself.

"Your actions have basically co-signed my death. As far as I’m concerned, I’m letting you off easy." Edmun said with a hint of gloominess in his tone.

"At least let me wake up naturally first you old codger—FUCK I’m turning British again."

Edmun gave him a weird look. Clearly, he had no idea what "turning British" meant. He just dismissed it as ridiculous childish slang and then moved on.

"This is what happens when people don’t get proper rest." Grey grumbled, clearly not too pleased.

"If I let you sleep any longer, we would all be dead."

"Oh merry day." Grey said, then cursed again. At this point, he thought his brain was doing it on purpose.

Did he have a complete caricature of a British person in his mind? Yes. Were they perpetually stuck in the 1850’s? Also yes.

Did he feel bad about it?

Absolutely not.

At least the province he was raised in was far enough from Quebec that he wouldn’t accidentally start speaking in French too.

"I’m being serious, Grey." Edmun said, his voice turning stern. "You’ve really fucked us all. Terran’s family have already sent in a projection. Luckily, the only one who can receive it is still in seclusion, but that just means they will try a more tedious, but nonetheless effective method. There will likely be an envoy that arrives within three days.

"You need to be in the Holy Knight Trial by then, and you need to be prepared to perform well, or else you’ve doomed the entire city to a complete wipeout."

Grey yawned. "You want me to enter the trial within three days and your idea was to wake me up instead of letting me rest? Are we serious, old m—."

Edmun stuffed something into Grey’s mouth that made him feel like his tongue was on fire and his stomach was bursting at the seams.

The feeling spread through his body before it suddenly disappeared. Then Grey went back to feeling like shit.

"What the fuck was that?"

Edmun frowned. "That’s the seventh one I’ve given you and it’s still not effective."

"Hello?" Grey waved a hand.

"That was the highest class healing elixir we have and it’s useless on you for some reason. It’s practically bankrupted the Church."

"Sounds like the church is poor. Couldn’t be me."

"Each one costs the same as a Rare Vanguard Class item."

Grey grimaced and nodded, looking at the man sympathetically.

"Well, when you put it like that..."

"If you were my grandson I’d slap you upside the back of the head."

"Let’s not do that. My temper isn’t the best as you can see."

"Shut up and listen. Not everything needs a rebuttal."

"I beg to differ."

Edmun looked genuinely aggravated and Grey could only shake with laughter.

"Listen, old man. Regardless of the consequences, I was killing that bastard. Don’t expect me to apologize to you or feel sorry about it. If his piece of shit family is willing to massacre an entire city despite kicking him out of it, it just means whatever he did to deserve losing his cushy seats and gold-tipped shit box was even worse than I thought."

Edmun’s eyes twitched, his face going red.

"You... you..."

His finger trembled as he pointed at Grey, but he couldn’t even find the words to say. He felt like this child was going to be the end of him.

Maybe he should have never had a disciple in the first place, what the hell was he thinking?

Edmun took a breath and closed his eyes. After a long while, he opened them, forcing himself to remain calm.

"What do you know about what’s happened to your body? I’ve never seen something like this."

"I don’t know. Baron Giyoto made me go to an Instance to clear it, I did, and then this Cyber Warp slapped itself onto my chest of its own accord and now I’m a fat fuck. But it feels like I’m wearing a fat suit, almost like the fat isn’t mine.

"It’s like I can use the energy from it and yet can’t at the same time. I feel so low energy right now, and I’m fucking starving, but nothing I do quite taps into the power properly."

"This is a Frame?" Edmun’s eyes widened.

"Uh... yes?"

The realization shook Edmun to his very core. "Is it... is it called... Bu... Bu..."

"Mark of the Buddha?" Grey asked. "Yes, yes it is."

Edmun’s pupils constricted into pinholes and then he started laughing. He started laughing so uproariously that Grey’s eardrums burst and he coughed up a mouthful of blood.

"YOU HAVE A FUCKING SICK PATIENT HERE OLD MAN! STOP!"