Hearken, mortals.

  Know this: by mine own hand and unbroken will, I have delivered a chapter each day without fail, and thou hast borne witness to this steadfast discipline. My consistency is not rumor, but recorded fact.

  Alas... fate, ever jealous of excellence, has seen fit to strike me with a most wretched affliction, brought upon by the reckless consumption of slime juice, a concoction clearly unfit for one of my stature. This malady shall delay my labors by one single day.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Thus, there shall be no chapter this day. Take solace: two chapters were already bestowed upon thee in recent past, a generosity which more than balances this brief interruption.

  I acknowledge thy patience. Thou shalt continue to possess it.

  Fail in this regard… and we shall have words.