Dark Magician eventually awoke to a sharp ache in his shoulder and chest.
"Heh. About time you woke up." A gruff voice echoed above him. It made his head ache as well. "I've seen level four monsters take that kind of beating in attack mode and stay out of the Graveyard. You're getting clumsy with your wand, DM."
The magician groaned as he finally placed the voice.
"Monsters like, me for example. I could take that hit and still stand strong in the duel!"
"Obnoxious as always…" he groaned.
"It's how I got the name." The warrior laughed heartily, knocking on his metal helmet.
"That is because you cannot be destroyed in battle, Obnoxious Celtic Guardian." Mystic Elf replied, as though she were repeating that line for the hundredth time. "No matter what a Blue Eyes White Dragon would do to you, you would still stay on your feet. Even if they were broken."
Dark Magician slowly sat up. His armor was stacked neatly against the side of the cot; his wand leaned precariously against the wall.
"Oh, no you don't." Mystic Elf stopped him before he could climb off the cot. "You're not going anywhere! I finished with the spells, but your injuries need time to heal! I don't want to see you moving for the next few days!"
"Yeah, DM. Just kick back and relax for a while, huh." Obnoxious Celtic Guardian laughed, propping his feet up on the spellcaster's cot. "At least 'till you get summoned again, and then get your ass handed to you by one of those Egyptian God Things. Especially the red one. I like red. It's a good color!"
Dark Magician groaned again. He wasn't sure what was worse: being called DM by the most annoying warrior in the whole deck, or being too injured to just get away from him.
"Now, I've had just about enough of that kind of talk." Mystic Elf finally intervened. "Your sprained ankle was healed a long time ago. You're free to go."
"But it's a lot more fun to stay here with my buddy, DM!" he laughed, punching the magician lightly in his good shoulder.
"You know, one of these days, the Lord is going to find a magic spell that will shove your helmet in your mouth." Mystic Elf scolded. "And when he does, it won't be my magic removing it!"
Dark Magician sighed, turning his attention to the rest of the Graveyard. The number of wounded and injured monsters no longer surprised him. It had been this way for years, although the battles had grown far more frequent in the past few months. Injuries just seemed to compound themselves.
Gaia, the Fierce Knight, sat in a cot across from him, his arm draped in a sling. Berfomet was there too, as was Chimera, the Flying Mythical Beast, and Horned Imp. Buster Blader was resting two cots down, although his were mostly flesh wounds. On his right, Black Luster Soldier was recovering from a dislocated knee and broken wrist. Even Watapon had passed out from exhaustion.
"Hey, DM. Are you even listening to me?" Obnoxious Celtic Guardian snapped his fingers in front of the spellcaster's face.
Dark Magician grimaced, turning his attention back to what he had been trying his best to tune out completely.
"No, I wasn't." he answered curtly.
"I was just saying maybe next time you should just hide under those magical hats until the big Blue Eyes goes away. That's a good plan, isn't it DM?" he smirked, clapping his hands in the air. "Good plan, good plan. If I do say so myself, and I do!"
"Right. I'll consider that next time I'm in a battle with something twelve times the size of your mouth." He answered, groaning again, attempting to rest.