Dead Man's Harem. Since I can't kill myself, I'll find other ways to be happy.

Devon groaned, blood coating his arm and torso from the thick tree branch that tore apart the skin on his back. He could barely muster the energy to make any sound at all right now. All he felt was pain and bruising, and that was not some sort of exaggeration for sympathy. Not just any person in the world was able to have the joy of experiencing taking fatal damage over and over again. Just yesterday, he had his spine completely ripped apart by the gorilla demon, and then blew up completely.

[Dead Man Walking] did its magic as usual, realigning his spinal cord in an awful squelching procession that made him more than a little queasy.

And for some reason, he felt that someone just spoke his name. It was like an itch in his head, triggered from a conversation occurring light years away from where he currently resided.

The noble hostage situation which had by now escalated into a full on Algorian rebellion continued to rage on in the background, but Devon had no means of joining the fray any time soon. His body was completely paralyzed, and he fidgeted and twitched sporadically like a fish out of water, a miserable sight to behold.

Soldiers fell left and right, as the casualties from the fighting began to reach the hundreds at this point. Shouts and jeers and grunts from soldiers, some of them gravely wounded, filled the battlefield.

And in the pile of leaves nearby lay the countess, injured and exhausted to the point of unconsciousness but otherwise relatively healthy.

Ten minutes passed as [Dead Man Walking] did its magic, as the fighting continued. Devon passed out himself, as another ten minutes passed. And then another.

Thirty minutes from when he first landed, he woke back up again, his head groggy and vision blurred. But something was different now– the insuppressible regenerative properties of his passive manifested once again, healing him to full capacity. His spinal injuries were rejuvenated, and he regained locomotive control of his arms and legs.

Devon stood back up on shaky legs, his body healed but his mind still scarred from the sensory feedback backlash that accompanied every usage of [Dead Man Walking] to save him from certain death.

The first thing he did was head towards the pile of leaves where countess Ilyana lay. He brushed the leaves aside, revealing her long white hair and smooth pale face, which had several cuts and bruises from her days long ordeal in Algorian custody. Seeing that she was still unconscious, he hoisted her over his right shoulder gently, her buttocks sticking out rather unbecomingly.

Devon took off the insignia clothing that covered his armor and draped the countess in it, protecting her modesty. The insignia was that of the earl's army, Lady Anne's father. He never got his name, and it was a bit confusing since countess Ilyana's father was another earl. So for now he'd compartmentalize this earl as the earl who hired Petunia aka Lady Anne's father.

The fight still raged on in the background, but Devon didn't even glance back. He moved away from the fighting as more carriages arrived carrying reinforcements from the royal army as well as other participants.

Of those reinforcements, a particular sight completely blew away Devon's expectations. It was madame Elisa, dressed in a sorceress's battle robe that could probably double as a fantasy kink-play roleplay costume back on earth. But again, he couldn't hold fashion expectations to earth standards, and a scandalously revealing robe like that that accentuated her milky jugs and thick thighs was actually a combat uniform in this world.

Devon remembered how countess Ilyana sprinted up a hill in high heels, and mentally noted to himself to give up all expectations and preconceived notions he had about the women and men of this world. They simply did not fit earth standards by any means.

She was a comforting sight to see, in a day filled with chaos. Devon rushed towards her as fast as he could, the countess bouncing up and down on his shoulder but covered by an insignia cloth to conceal her identity.

Madame Elisa began to move alongside several other reinforcements towards the battlefield, raising her staff and preparing a spell. But then she lowered her staff, seeing a certain young man running towards her.

"Devon?" she said in surprise. "What are you doing here? It's dangerous!"

Devon ran until he was right in front of her, panting and sweating while keeping a tight grip on the countess's waist. For a moment, he had a weird flashback to mario rescuing peach from a castle in an old nintendo game that he played at his deceased friend's house, many many years ago.

"Long story. No time to explain." Devon raised the cloth covering countess Ilyana ever so slightly, to reveal the white hair that lay underneath.

Madame Elisa's eyebrows raised in surprise, but she immediately understood. "Come with me, Devon." Tugging his wrist with her free hand, her other hand clutching a curled wooden staff, she led him away from the battlefield.