The falling shards of glass crashed into the floor and were further shattered. In the middle of the roaring sound created by this, Eugene was standing absentmindedly. Shards piled up on, or bounced off, his head and shoulders, and the sound was deafeningly loud, but in Eugeneâs ears, there was absolute silence.
Even though tens of thousands of these glass shards were pouring down on him, they couldnât pierce his skin or cause him to bleed, but his whole body throbbed in pain as if it was being torn to pieces with a sharp knife.
Or at least thatâs how it felt. Eugene stared down at Aniseâs Holy Grail that he was holding in his left hand. The afterimage of what he had seen was still lingering in his head. He saw the girls standing there with blood flowing down from them. The expressionless Anise, the crying Kristina, and the countless girls who had existed in between them.
Eugene hadnât been able to make out those girlsâ expressions clearly. He felt nauseous. The bloody smell he shouldnât still be sensing lingered beneath his nose and refused to leave.
â...Sir Eugene?â a voice called out as Rensol and several other clerics hesitantly approached Eugene.
They were having a hard time understanding the situation. The destruction of the pillars of light, which had been the pride of this cathedral for hundreds of years, had befuddled their minds, and the presence of Eugene Lionheart in the center of this left them in even more confusion.
From how things looked⌠it appeared as though Eugene was the one to destroy the pillars of light.
But why in the world would he do that? What reason could there be for him to do so? Even the priests who werenât aware of Eugeneâs identity thought this way, and Rensol, who knew that Eugene was the Hero, was even more certain that Eugene had no reason to do this.
âAre you⌠alright?â Rensol asked tentatively. âF-for now, please come over here. We donât know if the walls wonât continue to collapse. Staying there is far too dangerousââ
A voice was babbling nonsense at him, but Eugene could only hear the sound of his heart beating ever faster, like it was about to explode. His empty right hand was clenched tight enough that it seemed like he was trying to crush his bones. His breaths raced alongside the thumping of his heart. Eugene panted for breath as he lifted his head.
He saw the altar of the cathedral. Thanks to the shards of glass that had fallen from above, the altar and its surroundings were covered in glass fragments.
As Eugene stepped towards the altar, shards of glass cracked beneath his feet. When Eugene began to approach the altar, the bewilderment on the faces of Rensol and the other priests only mounted. They couldnât tell what Eugeneâs intentions were, but they could somewhat read the kind of atmosphere that he was giving off.
âSir Eugene, just what in the world are you trying to do?â Rensol asked as he approached Eugene with a stiff expression.
However, Rensol could only take a few steps forward before freezing in place. It wasnât just Rensol, either. All the priests who were about to try and stop Eugene found themselves unable to move as if they were frozen in place.
[Sir EugeneâŚ,] Mer tentatively spoke up from inside his cloak.
But Eugene didnât have the spare focus to answer her. As Eugene absentmindedly did what he could to suppress his overflowing killing intent, he kicked over the altar with one foot.
Bang!
The altar didnât topple over, nor was it sent flying. The moment Eugene kicked it, the altar shattered into a cloud of dust. Having removed the altar, Eugene picked up the Saintessâ jawbone that had been emplaced into the hollow floor beneath.
âS-sir EugeneâŚ,â Rensol stammered as he called out Eugeneâs name.
That was the jawbone of the Saintess from four hundred years ago. Among all the holy relics enshrined within the Tressia Cathedral, it was a rare first-class holy relic that could only be compared to the skull of Saint Theodore.
âP-please put it back down,â Rensol pleaded. âI really donât know why you are doing all this, but you canât just touch that without permissionâŚ.â
Eugene wasnât listening to him. He just threw the jawbone into Aniseâs Holy Grail and turned around. The priests couldnât follow Eugene as he left the main cathedral.
[...Sir Eugene, are you alright? Youâre okay, right?] Mer repeated herself in concern.
âIâm fine,â Eugene responded as he exited the cathedral.
This was a lie. In Eugeneâs opinion, his current self wasnât alright at all. But it also wasnât all that rare for his emotions to get riled up to this extentâŚ.
When he had discovered the Death Knight made from Hamelâs corpse in the desert grave. When Barang attacked Signard and the other elves in the Samar Rainforest. When Eward had captured his relatives to use as a sacrifice at the Black Lion Castle, and when he had to face the remnants of the Demon Kings.
However, the emotions that had rioted during those events had at least been clear and certain. He had felt anger, rage, and other such feelings. However, Eugene was currently uncertain about what he was feeling. These feelings were just as intense as they were back then, but he still wasnât sure whether this emotion rising within him was anger, rage, or something else.
âNo.â
The truth wasâŚ.
âI do know.â
Eugene actually did know what he was feeling and what he was thinking. He just didnât want to admit it. Eugene bit down firmly on his lower lips as he reached inside his cloak to pull out Akasha.
Mer grabbed Eugeneâs hand. She stuck her face out of the cloak and looked up at Eugene with a concerned expression. Her green eyes, which so resembled Siennaâs, were trembling with anxiety.
Although Eugene hadnât been certain what kind of expression he had on his face, now he knew. The face reflected back at him from within Merâs eyes looked unfamiliar even to himself.
âIâm fine,â Eugene repeated once more.
Even though he knew he wasnât fine, Eugene couldnât help but say he was. Mer also could sense what he was feeling. Mer knew she couldnât hold Eugene in place or calm him down, and she also knew that she didnât have the justification for doing so.
So, in the end, Mer didnât say anything and just let go of Eugeneâs hand. While accepting Merâs worried gaze, Eugene lifted Akasha.
This Saintessâ jawbone was from four hundred years ago.
Anise had been born three hundred years ago.
Eugene didnât understand what exactly this gap of one hundred years meant. He didnât even want to understand. However, in the end, the outcome was still the same. Even if he didnât want to, he needed to understand. Even though Eugene didnât want to admit the truth, he knew he had no choice but to accept it.
He could still hear the sound of his own heartbeat pounding loudly in his ears. Swallowing a heavy breath, Eugene cast Akashaâs Draconic spell.
Crack crack.
Something flowed into Eugeneâs head. The connection between him and this relic from hundreds of years ago was projected into Eugeneâs mind.
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The resulting picture wasnât clear. Perhaps because it was from so long ago â or perhaps, because the relic was so damaged? He didnât know which it was, but Eugene saw a scene, undercut with crackling static, play out inside his head.
Once again, Eugene saw the abominable bond that lay between those girls whose feet were soaked in the flowing river of blood. There was Anise, Kristina, and all the other girls apart from them. But this time, Anise wasnât the one at the head of the line.
Even before Anise, there was another girl, no, girls, who were letting their blood flow freely. Their faces were missing. Of all the girls standing there, the only two whose faces were clearly visible were Anise and Kristina. The other girlsâ faces were⌠gone.
It wasnât that he couldnât see them clearly. They literally didnât have faces. Their features werenât obscured by a haze of fog either. Whether it was their eyes, noses, or lips, they didnât have any of those features. It was a grotesque and creepy sight to see all these girls with empty faces standing in line, letting out their blood.
Eugeneâs eyes went to one of the girls standing in front of Anise. Like the others, the girl didnât have a face, but she wasnât just missing her eyes, nose, and mouth. She didnât have a chin, either. So her face looked like the lower half had been cut off. It looked like it would be painful to even breathe. Eugene knew this girl had to be the Saintess from four hundred years ago.
If that was the case, what about all the other girls standing in front of her? And what about the girls standing between Anise and Kristina?
Eugene had already figured out who they were earlier. But just like these feelings within him, the answer wasnât something he had wanted to accept.
He needed to see more.
Bowing his head, Eugene walked forward. The Holy Grail and the jawbone were swallowed up together by the light.
'There must be more that you want to show me. Iâm fine. I donât have any problems with continuing. Iâm prepared to see everything.'
As Eugene muttered these reassurances to himself, Anise, still with an expressionless face, closed her eyes.
One by one, all the girls collapsed and disappeared.
All the Saints standing there collapsed like sand castles, becoming part of the river that flowed with spilled blood. The red flow of blood became a spiraling whirlpool within the center of Eugeneâs field of vision.
Crack crack.
The noise created a distortion in the image. Finally, the terrifyingly red whirlpool settled down to become a calm body of water. A beautiful and brightly shining⌠spring.
Boom.
The sound rang out from below Eugeneâs feet. It was the sound of footprints being crushed into the floor and left behind as Eugeneâs footsteps landed too heavily for the floor to withstand. While trying to calm the emotions raging within him, Eugene tried to think about the situation, no, about everything that he had just found out.
The Fount of Light.
He didnât know where exactly it was. Seeing as it wasnât made public knowledge, it had to be a place that was kept secret even within Tressia. From what he had seen in the projection⌠it didnât seem to be inside a building. There were ancient pillars⌠Eugene thought he had seen the remains of a temple that looked so old it could be called a ruin. Where was it? There was no place like that near the cathedral.
As for Kristina.
Kristina was currently at that site. Eugene continued walking. He didnât know what exactly that spring was. He also didnât know the purpose of the ritual being held there. Kristina had said that ritual was necessary and that she herself was taking part in it willingly. No matter how suspicious the ritual had seemed, Eugene had been willing to respect Kristinaâs choice.
âLook closely, Hamel.
âAt this abominable bond.
Anise, in the form of a young girl, had raised her hands, which were covered in blood.
Kristina, who was also in the form of a young girl, had been crying next to Anise. Ever since they had reunited in Yurasia, her attitude had been strange.
Respect, huh? Eugene rubbed his own stiff cheeks.
âSince when have I ever been so considerate of others?â
When that thought popped into his head, Eugene didnât hesitate any longer.
Baaaang!
The ground beneath Eugeneâs feet shattered and collapsed as he launched himself into the air.
Eugene turned his back on the purple night sky above the city, which was far too bright. The wind that he had summoned held Eugeneâs body aloft. After flying high enough that he was able to view all of the huge Tressia Cathedral in one go, Eugene lifted Akasha.
The Dragonheart emitted light. With his eyes wide open, Eugene saw the myriad spells that had been layered over the cathedral. Most of the spells dealt with maintaining the building and enhancing its aesthetics. These werenât the spells that he was using Akasha to look for. One by one, Eugene removed these countless spells from his search. Although he had Merâs assistance, so much magic information was being forced into his field of vision that Eugeneâs head was pounding.
Still, it felt better for him to have a headache because of this. Instead of distracting Eugeneâs thoughts, the throbbing headache was actually sharpening his mind. Going deeper, ever deeper, his eyes grew bloodshot as he forced out even more concentration through gritted teeth.
His eyes, which were dyed with a red light, penetrated deep into the basement of the Cathedral. He had found it. The corners of Eugeneâs mouth twisted upwards. He recalled what Mer had said on the first day they had arrived in Yuras.
He didnât know if it was used for convenience, but there really was a hidden warp-gate buried deep beneath the cathedral. Eugene then found the path that led to this basement. So there was no longer any need to stay aloft like this.
Eugene immediately flew downward, heading to the clocktower and the door that led underground that was hidden within it.
âSir Eugene!â a voice interrupted him.
It was Rensol. He was blocking the entrance to the clocktower along with a few other priests.
âP-please return to your room,â Rensol stammered. âWhy in the world are you doing this? Why⌠why would you take those holy relicsââ
âGet out of the way,â Eugene spat in an unfamiliar voice.
Without stopping, Eugene just kept walking towards them briskly.
âSir Eugene, were you also responsible for shattering the pillars of light? Just why would you do that? P-please give us an explanation,â Rensol bravely demanded.
It seemed that they didnât have any intention of backing down from just a warning. Eugene immediately summoned a gust of wind. He had no intention of harming Rensol, who was just trying to block Eugeneâs way forward. It was just⌠Eugene only wanted to move them aside so they wouldnât bother him any longer. They wanted an explanation? How was he supposed to explain the emotions he was feeling right now and the things that had been projected into his head?
In the first place, Eugene was the one who wanted an explanation. So Eugene just kept his mouth shut and swung the wind towards them.
Whoooosh!
Frightened by the attack, Rensol and the priests called upon the light and raised a barrier of divine power to block Eugeneâs way forward. Just looking at this bright light made Eugene feel like the bloody smell from earlier was wafting around him once more.
Booom!
The wind sent the priests flying to the side. Then instead of dispersing, the wind pulled together and smashed open the door of the clocktower. Now that the way ahead had been opened up like this, Eugeneâs feet floated into the air once more.
Eugene immediately flew into the clocktower without any further delay. Then, searching for the underground door he had discovered earlier, he brandished the wind again.
Booom!
All of the statues that were standing along the walls were completely shattered. The secret door leading underground could only be opened by elaborately manipulating these statues, but Eugene didnât want to waste time on that, so he just smashed the door open.
Passing through the stairs that led deep into the basement, he arrived at the cellar that held the warp-gate. The magic light of the portal wasnât lit. This meant that the door wasnât connected anywhere.
A warp-gate always needed a wizard manning it in order to maintain the connection to the coordinates of the linked doors. However, apart from Eugene, there wasnât anyone else there at the moment.
It was clear what had happened without even needing to think about it. After Cardinal Rogeris had left with the Inquisitors, he had completely shut down the door of the warp-gate.
â...Ha,â Eugene let out a dry laugh as he headed to the warp-gate.
Mer, who read his intentions, panicked and pulled herself out of his cloak to grab Eugene by his shoulders.
âThat plan is way too reckless and dangerous!â Mer shrieked.
âMer, let go,â Eugene ordered.
âS-sir Eugene, please calm down,â Mer begged. âA warp-gate is the highest level of spatial magic! Even though a wizard of the Fifth Circle can maintain the connection between gates, you need to be at least a Sixth Circle wizard to create a new connection.â
âDo you really think I donât know that?â
âOf course, you know! Thatâs why Iâm telling you not to do this! The fact that youâre trying to do something like this even though you know all that just means that, Sir Eugene, you arenât in your right mind right now!â
Mer was right. The warp-gate that maintained a connection over long distances was the highest level of spatial magic. Eugene's current level as a wizard was at the Fifth Circle. With the help of Akasha and Mer, he could use spells up to the Seventh Circle, but it was still too risky for Eugene to try and forcefully open the door.
The warp-gates recorded a unique wavelength for each connected door. The wavelengths on both sides of the door needed to resonate with each other to open the door and maintain a connection. Naturally, only the wizard who managed the warp-gate knew the spell to create these wavelengths. It wasnât possible for Eugene to open the door unless he knew the spatial coordinates of the Fount of Light and the wavelengths required for the resonance.
Mer desperately tried to persuade him, âIf you used a calculation device and added Akasha on top of that, you might be able to forcefully match the wavelengths. However, Sir Eugene, you should also be aware that such a connection canât help but be unstable, right? Spatial magic, especially magic that involves crossing long distances like a warp, is far too risky when it fails. If the connection goes wrongââ
Eugene cut her off, âI wonât fail.â
â...Huh?â Mer voiced her confusion.
âItâll be fine if I can just roughly forge a connection,â Eugene assured her. âAfter that, I can tune the wavelength while Iâm in the middle of the crossing. That way, we wonât get out of sync, and the connection should have no problems.â
âB-but thatâs just absurd,â Mer protested. âTo adjust the coordinates and tune the wavelengths in real time without first knowing the coordinates of the exitâŚ! Even for me, such calculations are impossible! Thatâs not even in the realm of pure calculation anymore!â
âI have no intention of making you do it for me, so donât worry,â Eugene said as he shrugged off Merâs hand from his shoulder.
Then he firmly pushed down on Merâs head and shoved her back inside his cloak.
âKyaah!â Mer yelped in complaint.
âStay in there patiently, and donât come out,â Eugene ordered.
Then he tightly closed the cloakâs opening so that she wouldnât be able to escape.
Eugene waved Akasha and pointed it at the warp-gate.
Eugene was at the brink of the Sixth Circle. It had been difficult to understand how far he had yet to go when he first got his hands on Akasha, but after going through the civil strife at the Black Lion Castle and his continued training beneath the lake at the main estate, his magic level had also risen. Perhaps because of this, Eugene was able to read the formula of the warp-gate immediately.
The mana drawn from his White Flame Formula flowed into the warp-gate.
Fwoooosh!
The space between the two pillars of the warp-gate distorted and began to shine. The spatial connection was ready to be opened, but the wavelength of the door had yet to resonate with the other side.
If all that Eugene had available was the ability to read the formula, then he wouldnât have had any other way from here. However, Akasha didnât just grant the ability to read spells. It also granted the ability to understand them.
Eugeneâs eyes throbbed. He licked his lips as he prepared himself for the use of high-speed frequency changing.
Mer didnât want to help him. However, she couldnât really refuse to do anything. Inside the cloak, Mer let out a deep sigh and began syncing her consciousness with Eugeneâs.
Then she realized just what an absurd thing Eugene was about to do.
Akasha allowed him to comprehend the formulas of the warp-gate. In addition, he would use the search magic of the Draconic spell to scan the connection with the other side of the door. The spell itself would make a reverse calculation from the minute traces of the other side of the connection that had been left on the closed warp-gate, to predict the spatial coordinates on the other side. Eugene then intended to infuse his mana into the warp-gate for each of the innumerable coordinates that were derived through this method to generate a momentary wavelength and then repeat this until he could match the wavelengths for each coordinate.
This was crazy. It was brutal, mindless labor behind a mask of advanced magic. This wasnât a task that a single wizard could ever manage. Even an Archwizard couldn't connect all these different warp-gates over and over again while performing such a huge amount of calculations each time. There was no way that such a plan was possible. If anyone were to try to do this, their mana would be depleted immediately.
However, Eugene made it possible. Akasha reduced the amount of mana that was needed for the magic. Mer was able to share the work of calculating the coordinates. Operating the Ring Flame Formula would allow Eugene to recover all the mana wasted. His senses, which were sharpened to their limit, would be able to detect the changes in the wavelengths. It didnât matter if the wavelengths werenât perfectly resonant. As long as there was one moment when they did resonate, Eugene wouldnât miss that chance.
When tears of blood began to flow down from his wide-open eyes and collect on the tip of his chin, Eugene pushed Akasha forward.
A ripple formed in the distorted space. Without sparing any mana, Eugene poured out everything he had. The ripples were getting bigger and bigger. Eugeneâs mana was forced into the patch connecting the two sides and hammered on the closed door.
Fwoooosh!
The distorted space was suddenly filled with light. The warp-gates were successfully connected. Inside the cloak, Mer sprawled out in exhaustion. At this point, she felt like she would be happy to use the pause function that she had hated so much.
â...No, I canât,â Mer thought to herself as she shook her head.
Eugene slowly walked up to the warp-gate. This door was connected to the Fount of Light. He didnât really want to imagine what he might see there. But heâd be seeing it soon in any case.
Eugene closed his strained eyes and passed through the warp-gate.
* * *
The Fount of Light was a sanctuary where the Grace of God had resided ever since ancient times. Even amongst Yurasâ numerous priests, only a few priests whose faith had been verified beyond doubt were aware of the existence of the Fount of Light.
And among these priests, only a few authority figures were allowed to see the Fount of Light in person, but even so, all the Paladins and Inquisitors who had been mobilized for this mission felt a great honor and sense of excitement just from being given the duty to protect the spring and the Saint Candidate staying there.
This wasnât even a difficult test. They were at a temple deep within the mountains. Various miracles and spells were protecting this place from being seen with the naked eye. It was impossible for wild beasts or anyone else to enter this site, even by chance. Just in case, they had been on guard for several days, but in the two days since the ritual had begun, not even a single rabbit, let alone a person, had come close to the temple.
But they still didnât let their guard down in the slightest. It would be impossible for any of the Paladins or Inquisitors who had been mobilized to protect this holy sacrament from lowering their guards on the grounds that the mission wasnât strenuous. If any of them had been that bendable, they wouldnât have been called to this ceremony.
The Knights of the Blood Cross were called the Shield of Light.
The Maleficarum of the Inquisition was called the Hammer of Light.
The Paladins and Inquisitors who had been recruited from their respective organizations all felt it at the same time. The warp-gate that was supposed to have been closed was now open. Someone had just passed through the warp-gate and had arrived near the temple. Though they had never expected such a thing to happen, since it had, what they needed to do next was clear.
[...Honored Cardinal.]
[Iâm aware.]
The call was silently conveyed from inside their heads.
Sergio replied to the alert without any signs of amusement on his face. However, he didnât get up from where he was kneeling. Currently, Sergio couldn't make a move personally.
It wasnât just Sergio, either. There were two people kneeling together with him, offering up their prayers. There was Giovanni, one of the Captains of the Knights of the Blood Cross, and Inquisitor Atarax. Originally, this ritual was meant to be conducted by Sergio alone, but the ritual taking place this time was special. So along with the other Paladins and Inquisitors who had been mobilized, these two individuals with strong divine power were assisting Sergio.
[...Sir Eugene appears to have arrived by warp-gate,] Sergio informed the others.
[Should we capture him?] Atarax asked, glancing at Sergioâs expression.
[With all due respect,] Sergio agreed to the proposal without immediately revealing his surging emotions. [If possible, try to get him to return on his own accord. If that is impossible⌠then it canât be helped. You all should be well aware of just how important this ritual isâŚ. Even if it causes Sir Eugene some offense, we have to send him back immediately.]
[Yes, sir.]
[We will follow your orders.]
But how had Eugene shown up here? He had definitely closed the warp-gate. Sergio had heard that Eugene Lionheartâs talent as a wizard was also exceptional, but shouldnât it have been impossible for even an Archwizard to have connected both sides of a warp-gate by themself?
[...How surprising,] Sergio commented with a dull expression as he settled his own emotions.
It was certainly impossible, unbelievable, and surprising. But that was only when taken within the scope of what humans were capable of. Eugeneâs achievement was nothing compared to the miracles caused by God.
Sergio once more put his hands together to pray and looked straight ahead.
In front of him, a gentle light was shining.
The light came from the water rising from a spring deep underground that shone even in the dark. The water had a slight warmth to it, though there wasnât any particular scent. The water didnât just shine; it also had a much stronger sacred power than even the holy water blessed by a high-ranking priest like himself.
In the middle of this spring, Kristina, dressed in pure white robes resembling a shroud, was immersed in its light.
Blood was flowing from the countless wounds that covered her body. Kristinaâs blood mixed with the spring water, but the water of the spring didnât turn red.
Sergio, who had been watching this, slowly stood up. He pulled out a dagger that had been immersed in the spring and approached Kristina. The pure waters of the spring were full of divine power. No matter how many times she was cut, Kristinaâs wounds were healed by the divine grace infused into the light of the spring.
This sight was truly miraculous. Sergio looked down at Kristina, whose eyes were closed as she recited her prayers.
âSaint Candidate,â Sergio called out to her with his voice, but Kristina didnât respond.
She wasnât asleep. Kristinaâs consciousness was still awake, but her body couldnât move according to her will. Because her eyes were closed, she wasnât able to see anything. Some of her senses had been suppressed, but other senses were dozens of times more sensitive than usual.
âYou need to be patient,â Sergio advised her.
During the previous ritual, Kristina had sat in this spring and cut herself with a knife over the course of several days. Even as the light healed one wound after another, until the end of the ritual, Kristina was forced to cut herself and spill her blood over and over again. Kristinaâs sensitivity towards pain, which had been sharpened by dozens of times more than usual, had inflicted enough pain on her that it would have been a relief to just go crazy or die, but this spring was able to keep a supplicantâs mind from going insane. Instead, it actually awakened Kristinaâs consciousness to such an extent that she could keep carving open these wounds on her body.
For the ritual held this time, it was only on the first day that Kristina had to cut her own body. From the second day onwards, it was Sergio who instead carved these stigmata onto Kristina.
Thus there was no way for her to adapt to the pain. The pain was also sharper than before. Kristina never knew exactly where Sergio would start to carve, but she couldnât allow herself to be afraid of him. The light was warm and comforting. She repeated this thought to herself as she continued to recite her prayers inside of her mind.
â...O omniscient and omnipotent God of Light, please watch over my soul. Illuminate my soul with your light and cleanse my blood. Please burn away my passions with your light and leave your light in its place.â
The blade touched her skin. At that very moment, an eerie anticipation was transmitted to Kristina, but Kristina didnât tremble.
âAllow me to forget this pain and despair so that I bring salvation to your flock. Help them to find rest in your light and allow them to be reborn as light. May you send your light down wherever I am and wherever I walk. As your apostle, I am a lamp that will light up the darkness, and as your torch, please use this body as a source of fuel to illuminate the world.â
The blade pierced Kristinaâs skin. The pain, so agonizing that her mind felt like it was about to collapse, began to spread throughout her body. However, Kristinaâs tightly closed eyes didnât shake, nor did she let out a groan.
â...So that your light may illuminate the darkness of the world, have mercy on us. Please hear this prayer. Allow your brilliant and holy light, the spark that first lit up this world, to dwell within me, your servant.â
Nothing could be seen within her tightly closed eyes.