Turning Chapter 1026
The sigil completely wrapped itself around Yuder.
Yuder didn’t resist the golden threads binding him.
The thread-like connections that enveloped his entire body flowed aimlessly, hot and cold sensations mingling without order. These were all the emotions and sensations that Kishiar was feeling. As lights of every color blinked and flashed before his eyes, Yuder exhaled a trembling breath.
‘Ah...’
A sudden thought crossed his mind.
What if he could have shared this kind of connection with Kishiar in his previous life?
What if he had been the one to ask what Kishiar was thinking back then—and even if no answer came, he had stubbornly waited for a reply?
Would he have been able to feel something like this then too?
Would it have been possible to gain something else—something other than the pain he still remembered?
Until now, he had always thought there was no point in revisiting an irreversible past. Those thoughts always ended with a bitter wind swirling in his mouth.
But now, after seeing that gloved white hand remaining in the darkness, it was different. Yuder now knew the wound that existed inside that glove. He remembered the moment when the hand he had always thought only pushed him away had, in fact, pulled him forward. And he remembered the decisive help he had received from what had been shown to him in that place.
He could finally be sure of one truth: that Kishiar hadn’t hated or despised him.
In the face of the evidence he only came to know after returning, all the bitter pain of the past had lost its color.
‘Even so, perhaps this “what if” still holds no real meaning.’
Still, sometimes those meaningless hypotheticals helped him realize—more clearly than anything else—what the present standing before him truly meant.
Even in the past, when Yuder could no longer find the answers, perhaps somewhere inside Kishiar la Orr, these things had always existed. The frail truth that, had he died and not been given another chance, would have faded away forever without anyone ever knowing.
And thanks to that, Yuder now realized, with disturbing clarity, just how deeply he wanted this beautiful and incomprehensible being—someone who needed him more than anything else in the world, and therefore was all the more heartbreaking.
He didn’t want to escape from this sensation, as if his body were burning alive—from this dazzling cascade of light that felt like it could blind him. Even if his entire being were to melt and collapse and die, he would gladly accept it.
As the long-yearned-for thirst seemed to be quenched and yet somehow made him thirstier still, Yuder pulled Kishiar into his embrace.
He would continue holding him like that until he no longer wanted to.
No longer counting the time as it passed.
***
The Cavalry that had saved the South was finally returning.
The entire Capital buzzed with excitement, whispering the news.
Though the people of the Capital knew that the Cavalry Commander and his followers had accomplished something incredible, they still didn’t know exactly what—or how. The South had remained sealed off since the Day of Hail, and the Emperor and noble factions had their own reasons for preventing detailed news from spreading too widely.
Yet even the bits of news that had managed to leak through were more than enough to stir astonishment. Some were thrilled by talk that Duke Peletta had proven beyond any doubt that he was a true Swordmaster, someone no one could ever question. Others marveled at the story that his aide, Nathan Zuckerman, had been recognized by General Gino himself as fitting the title of a new Swordmaster.
And then there were the countless tales about Yuder Aile—the famous Cavalry hero who had saved the West and been granted the title of Baron—and his comrades. Even just the faintest rumors carried on the wind were enough to stir the hearts of curious onlookers.
Did they really do something as incredible as the rumors claimed? Or was it all an exaggeration, a myth? Would they finally get to see the truth with their own eyes once they returned?
Driven mad with curiosity, people flocked—unprompted—to the southern gate of the Capital, where the Cavalry was expected to arrive. The crowd grew so large, it was said to be even more packed than when the Cavalry had returned from the West. There was hardly a place left to stand.
Most of those who came to see the Cavalry were commoners—but not all. Many carriages had departed even from the 3rd and 4th walls, where the high-ranking nobility resided.
And in front of the main residence of House Ta-in—one of the four great ducal families that had stood with Orr’s thousand-year history—some of those people were preparing to depart as well.
“It already feels like the Spring Festival has started, Sister. The streets are so lively, and so many places are decorated just like our estate! They must have put those up to celebrate the Cavalry’s return, right?”
“Yes, Filevan.”
Priscilla, second daughter of House Ta-in and the heir, smiled at the excited exclamation of her younger brother, the fourth child, Filevan.
“I heard that when the Cavalry returned from the West, the 3rd and 4th walls didn’t react like this... Do you think this change has something to do with His Majesty appearing in good health again?”
Unlike the cheerful Filevan who was swept up in the festivity, the third child, Piriam, remained cool-headed, calmly observing their surroundings. Priscilla patted the younger sibling’s head and nodded.
“That’s right. It means there are more people even here in the 3rd wall thinking of leaning toward His Majesty’s side. Or maybe they just want to look good in front of us.”
“Hm. That does seem likely. Especially with how many are gathering near the Ta-in estate... Honestly, it’s kind of disgusting.”
Piriam scrunched up his nose as he muttered, and a cold smile of agreement briefly flickered across Priscilla’s face.
“I don’t feel too great about it either. But remember—when people like that gather, even their actions can become a weapon to pressure the opposition.”
“If it helps Ele and Nipi, I can tolerate it.”
Piriam’s demeanor shifted immediately.
“By the way, did they say His Majesty won’t be coming out to greet them personally like last time in the West?”
“That’s right. His Majesty and Her Majesty are scheduled to greet the Cavalry tomorrow at the Palace. Today, Prime Minister Hebraena Leiflang will go out in their place.”
“I’ve never heard of the Prime Minister showing up to something like this before.”
“His Majesty has said he wants to restore the Prime Minister’s authority to its former standing—this is probably part of that effort.”
Centuries ago, when high-ranking officials led by the Prime Minister tried to seize power and shake the nation, the Emperor had curbed their misdeeds with the help of the ducal families. In the process, the Prime Minister’s authority had been curtailed, and the dukes’ power had risen as a reward from the Emperor.
‘But now, the situation is the complete opposite. It’s laughable how things have changed.’
As Priscilla mulled over that thought, news came that the carriages were ready.
“Let’s go.”
The three of them boarded the carriage. Inside were gifts they had prepared for their relatives, whom they hadn’t seen in some time. Piriam’s face brightened as he hugged one of the gift boxes.
“I can’t wait to see Brother Ele and Nipi. It’s been so long since we saw them.”
“Me too.”
Though she hadn’t yet told her younger siblings, Priscilla had already received news that Fruelle had awakened to 2-Star level in the South. She’d always thought it might happen someday, given he was an Awakener—but the change had come much faster and more suddenly than expected.
‘Two Stars... They said nothing seems different outwardly, but he was sick for several days. I really want to check if he’s alright.’
Fruelle had apparently been worried that his siblings wouldn’t know how to treat him now that he’d become a 2-Star Awakener. But Priscilla thought that was a pointless worry. No matter what had changed, Fruelle was still Fruelle. If he was healthy, that was all that mattered.
“Sister! Will we be able to see the Cavalry Commander there? And the people Brother wrote about in his letters?”
Pulled from her thoughts by Filevan’s cheerful voice, Priscilla looked up.
“Yes. We should be able to see them.”
“Wow...! It’s my first time seeing a real Swordmaster. I’m so excited...”
Filevan’s cheeks flushed with excitement. He had built up a massive fantasy around the Cavalry while reading Fruelle’s letters sent from the South.
‘Not surprising. It’s not just that kid—everyone seems to be in that state.’
Duke Peletta had proven, without question, that he was the real deal—the finest Swordmaster alive. When the rumors first came in about how his aura had split the sea, the faces of the knights in the Capital had gone slack with shock.