Harem System In A fantasy World - Chapter 281: Oh, you are awake...

Chapter 281: Oh, you are awake…

Elion had hoped that his captor would show up soon after he woke up, but a full day had already passed, and he was starting to grow impatient, his initial caution slowly giving way to irritation as he lay there with nothing to do but think.

Wasn’t it common courtesy to appear before your hostage after they woke up and state your demands and reasons for kidnapping them?

Well… apparently not.

“Where is this bastard…” he thought, his gaze fixed on the ceiling as his fingers twitched uselessly against the restraints.

At least he didn’t need to worry about the elements assaulting his body.

Even though the room was cold, it wasn’t unbearable, probably thanks to his physique, since the passive protection that mana usually afforded him didn’t seem to be working at the moment, not when he had effectively been stripped of it by those damned chains.

Even so, his body wasn’t reacting the way a normal person’s would. He didn’t feel hungry yet.

Ever since he started getting stronger, he had noticed the changes; he didn’t need to eat as much, didn’t need to sleep as much either, though he still did both out of habit more than necessity, because that was what he was used to.

Now though, he wasn’t sure how long that would last.

How long would it take for his body to burn through all that stored energy?

He didn’t know.

He sighed for what felt like the hundredth time since he had woken up, the sound echoing faintly in the empty room as his head rested back against the cold stone.

The worst part about this wasn’t even the restraints.

It was the fact that he couldn’t figure out how he had been captured in the first place.

He was supposed to have enough passive protection against most mental attacks and even poisons that could put him out of commission, but clearly, that had failed, and that alone was troubling.

That meant one of two things.

Either the poison that had been used was just that potent…

Or the person who had targeted him was so powerful that his passive abilities meant nothing, completely void in the face of their strength, and he had never stood a chance to begin with.

But then…

If they were that powerful…

Why go through all this trouble?

Why use such roundabout methods to get to him? He wouldn’t have been able to resist anyway if they really wanted to take him.

Unless…

They didn’t want him making a fuss.

His brows furrowed slightly.

“…Was stripping me naked to my underpants really necessary?” he thought, his expression turning flat.

Either this person had some weird kinks…

Or this was some sort of tactic used on hostages that he just didn’t know about.

…

Five more days passed… and still, this person had yet to appear.

By this point, Elion was really starting to die of boredom, the kind of boredom that made every second feel stretched out, like time itself had slowed down just to spite him, and with nothing to do but stare at the same stone ceiling and the flickering torchlight that seemed to run on infinite fuel, his thoughts had long since run dry.

Yeah, he was yet to feel hungry, his body still holding on somehow, but the thirst…

That was starting to get to him.

His lips were dry, his throat felt scratchy, every swallow uncomfortable as the lack of water slowly made itself known, creeping in little by little until it became impossible to ignore.

“Fuuuuck…” he groaned dryly, his voice barely carrying in the empty room, more breath than sound at this point.

Each minute felt agonisingly slow, and each hour dragged on endlessly.

And now… days had passed.

Wouldn’t it be quite ironic if he died here, in this dimly lit, empty space?

…

Time blurred, and another ten days passed.

The first few days after that had already been unbearable, but now, as more time passed, even the concept of time itself began to lose meaning to him; he had initially been keeping track of the passage of time, but counting quickly became tiring.

It didn’t help that there was nothing reliable enough to show him how much time had passed. The flickering of the torches became the only thing he could measure anything by, and even that was inconsistent and unreliable

The dancing flames had no clear pattern that he could follow. He could only hope that his internal clock was as accurate as he thought it was.

Another day passed.

Then another.

His throat burned.

His lips cracked.

Every swallow felt like dragging sand down his throat, dry, painful, useless, and his body, once so resilient, once so full of vitality, was beginning to betray him, slowly but surely.

He stopped talking.

There was no point.

His voice had long since faded into nothing more than strained whispers, and even those cost him more energy than they were worth.

His thoughts grew sluggish and heavy. Like they were being pulled down into the same darkness that surrounded him.

Honestly, he had hoped that in the worst case, if his captor didn’t show up for longer than he had thought, he would be able to stay in top shape for longer.

At this point, he began to suspect that maybe the chains were sucking away more than just his mana.

At some point, he stopped trying to count the days.

But his body’s internal clock knew. His body always knew.

By the time the third week was halfway through, there was no strength left in him to even feel frustration, the irritation, the anger, the confusion, all of it had been worn down into a dull and distant longing, like echoes of emotions he could no longer fully grasp.

His chest rose and fell slowly, shallowly, and weakly.

His eyes barely opened anymore, his vision grew dim and unfocused, the ceiling above him nothing more than a blurred patch of darkness and faint light.

He was thirsty.

So unbearably thirsty.

And now…

Hungry too.

His body had finally started to burn through whatever reserves it had left, and the weakness that followed was suffocating and overwhelming. His limbs were once again almost completely unresponsive, his fingers barely twitching even when he tried.

“…heh…”

A faint, broken sound escaped his lips, though even he didn’t know what he found funny anymore.

His consciousness began to slip slowly.

Like he was sinking into something deep and quiet.

Darkness crept into his vision again, not sudden, not violent, but gradual, like a curtain being drawn over his eyes.

This might really be it…

The thought barely formed when he finally heard a sound.

Skreeee….

The sound of heavy metal being moved by something.

His mind stirred weakly, clinging to that sound as if it were the only thing keeping him tethered.

Soft and measured footsteps soon followed as the sound of the screaming metal faded.

Clink…

Clink…

They echoed lightly against the stone floor, growing closer with each step, and though he couldn’t move or turn his head, or even focus his eyes properly, he knew that someone was there.

Was he supposed to be relieved that someone was finally here? Or should he despair that this person seemed to have decided to appear when he had reached his weakest point in this horrible period of confinement?

“Oh… you are awake.”

A smooth female voice sounded from behind him. It was oddly familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. Her tone was calm, almost amused, as her footsteps came to a stop somewhere just out of his line of sight.