"Ugh..."
After drinking the potion, the "Viscount" let out several muffled whimpers. Before long, he could no longer make a sound. His limbs convulsed as he struggled with the last of his strength.
"Oh! This sleeping potion works surprisingly well. The moment you drink it, it feels like you're about to sleep forever. If you hadn't rushed to test it, I wouldn't have known it was this potent. You're such a good person." Sargathas praised the "Viscount" in a gentle voice while smiling at him as he desperately struggled on the floor, like a fish making its final flops after leaving the water.
If the "Viscount" had not been on the verge of death, too weak to argue with the Evil God, he would have done so. Yet upon hearing those words, he desperately stretched out a hand toward her, begging for help. He had only come today to force the Elf to administer poison, so he had not brought an antidote. With only the two of them in the room, he could only pin his hopes of survival on her.
"Oh, why are you reaching out your hand? Do you want me to save you? But this is only a sleeping potion. How did you end up like this?" The Evil God still wore an innocent, guileless expression.
Seeing that the "Viscount" was taking more breaths out than in, Sargathas felt that she could not keep playing any longer. She pointed at him from a distance with one finger. The "Viscount" immediately began coughing, spitting out a heap of black blood before gasping for air. He stared at the Elf in terror.
Only then did Sargathas ask, "So, was the sleeping potion tasty? Would you like another bottle?"
"I wouldn't dare, I wouldn't dare." After brushing so close to