Zeke opened his blurry eyes only to find himself staring up at an unfamiliar ceiling. Intricately carved wooden beams stretched out like the ribs of a giant, adorned with delicate patterns. The ceiling rose high above, a canvas of opulence illuminated by the soft glow of ornate chandeliers hanging like jewels from its expanse.

He blinked once, then again. Yet, the sight didn’t change. He tried to rise, but his body protested, sending a bout of pain coursing through his nerves, forcing him to fall back into the soft bedding. With the pain, the last of his sleepiness subsided, and in its place, memories resurfaced. Ahh, that’s right. He killed the Archmage, didn’t he?

And then…

[Answer]

…and then Host almost killed himself by overtaxing his body to an insane degree.