The Villain's Story - Chapter 859 - 859: Black Sea(7).

His fate was even worse than Alan’s. Even though losing the sense of touch had alarmed Alan, he had regeneration to fix whatever injuries he inflicted on himself, and, beyond that, he was somewhat prepared for it.

Alexander, however, was unaware. He had been too focused on losing his sense of hearing and smell that he never saw it coming.

“Huh?”

He never noticed the slow numbing of his limbs until he felt it disappear completely. He fell, despite the fact that he was perfectly positioned. He couldn’t feel his butt against the boat, he couldn’t feel his hands grabbing the edge, He couldn’t even feel his face planting itself into the boat.

It hit him much harder, and the loss of touch deprived his brain until it started to crave feeling.

All biological limits were removed as the man dug into his own skin, as the man punched and punched until the bones in his fist broke. He didn’t notice any of it.

He was blind to the harm he was causing his own body, even though sight had not been taken from him. He was blind to everything. He couldn’t hear his own self screaming for pain; he didn’t even know it was happening.

All he could do was wait for his vision to be robbed as well, and soon enough, it was happening.

He didn’t snap out of it as Alan did upon noticing the edges of the boat being consumed by the Black Sea; however, he did realize it.

He knew it was coming, the loss of sight, but unlike Alan, Alexander was still unaware of the damage he had done to his body. And unlike Alan, he had no way of recovering.

All he could let out were incomprehensible screams as the darkness approached, climbing through his body and digging into his eyes, until there was nothing but black.

The next time he would feel, hear, see, taste, and smell would be when he woke up back in the Mansion, failing the trial.

—-

‘It’s coming.’

Sabrina came to terms with her situation, sitting gracefully upon her own boat, as her mana coursed through her body, desperate for any chance of… anything.

She had lost sound, taste, and smell, and now, she knew she would begin to lose touch. Whenever Sabrina lost a sense, she was aware of it, far too much for her sake. The loss of sound was expected, but not to a degree like this, where even her own thoughts were gone.

Back on the island, she was able to deal with the silence due to the ‘Thirst’ and the sound of her own thoughts, but here, she had been deprived of both.

The thirst for blood that a vampire has, and the comfort of her own thoughts. But even then, losing her senses hadn’t impacted her as much as it had Alan and Alexander. Although her sense of smell and taste had received an upgrade upon becoming a vampire, she hadn’t gotten used to it like Alexander.

And unlike Alan, all of her senses weren’t enhanced to a razor’s edge all the time. Unless she went out of her way to do so with mana, of course. She had been able to deal with losing them.

But even she, upon feeling the numbness in her limbs beginning to form, realized it was over. The sting that coursed through her body, the surge of electricity marked it all.

And it disappeared in an instant as well. She had lost touch, and due to her posture, she hadn’t realized when she was falling off the side of the boat until she saw it.

She saw the other side rise as her body fell. She reached out with her hand to grab the edge of the boat, to save herself from the Black Sea, but she couldn’t feel herself grab on; she couldn’t feel the texture of the boat, nor the grip of her own hands. She couldn’t climb back up even if she wanted to.

“…”

Her hand slipped, and Sabrina simply closed her eyes, as her body vanished underneath the Black Sea. She had failed the trial and would wake up back in the mansion, same as Alexander.

Unlike Alan, both of them had a power beyond measure, making sure he stayed alive. They didn’t have something that regenerated the same heart that they clawed out of their own body, nor did they have something that could make their body anew, moments after it was torn apart.

—–

There was nothing, quite literally. Alan had not yet woken up from his ‘mindless’ state, but what would have happened even if he had?

He had no senses to rely on, nothing to act as an anchor to ground himself in reality.

In the middle of a vessel that produced light, he could not see. In the middle of a calm but terrifying sea, he could not feel the breeze. He could not taste the mana in a mana-dense environment, he could not smell it, and in a world that could only be filled with his thoughts… he could not hear them as well.

Silence on all fronts, even on his most beloved one, the one gifted to his entire race. Even the love of mana was robbed from him. He could no longer feel his mana, his aura. All of his senses, stolen.

In the midst of this silence, as he lay in the midst of his own torn flesh, his hands moved. It wasn’t something he intended to do; it was more instinct. But this instinct wasn’t to rid himself of these… depravities.

Rather, his hands simply grasped his arms, and his legs curled up. He hugged himself, despite knowing he was even doing it.

What propelled these actions? In a world where everything was gone? Where could neither think nor act?

It was precisely nothing. Nothingness had stirred the body to grasp itself, not to claw out his own flesh, but to embrace it, to provide comfort even though it would never be felt.

Like a baby, he held himself, fearing the cold.

Yes, Alan Peccator’s body feared the cold, for the first time. Not a chill induced by the abilities of a powerful being, nor one produced by his own imagination, one that ran down his spine.

It was the true cold, the one existing where nothing else existed. The presence in the absence of all, a type of cold even a frost dragon could resist.

The chill of nothingness.