Turning Chapter 1036

A chill wind brushed against his skin.

Yuder slowly bowed his head in formal greeting, as one should before a royal.

“...I pay my respects to Your Highness the Crown Prince.”

His voice was slow, his expression unreadably calm—but inside Yuder’s mind, thoughts spun rapidly, breathlessly.

I thought he’d been locked up in the palace ever since Kiole dragged him back from the South. So why is he here?

Had he come out with a purpose, or was it just a reckless whim? According to Kiole, the Sage’s death hadn’t broken Kachian’s brainwashing. Judging by his face now, it was hard to tell if that was still true.

But... there’s one thing I can be sure of. He’s lost a frightening amount of weight.

The last time Yuder had seen Kachian properly—and for the last time—was at a royal banquet. Back then, Kachian had been roped into the situation by Kishiar and foolishly declared he’d take full responsibility for Diarca’s actions, before leaving the gathering in dramatic fashion.

Even though he was under the Sage’s brainwashing at the time, outwardly he’d looked no different than usual. But now his cheeks were sunken, his frame visibly gaunt. Even his smile lacked the dazzling quality it once had—replaced by something eerie, something uncanny.

Yuder glanced behind Kachian. Not a trace of another soul could be felt. That alone was uncharacteristic—Kachian used to drag around an army of attendants just to flaunt them.

As Yuder slowly heightened his senses, Kachian—who had been eyeing him just as cautiously—finally spoke.

“I was resting, and suddenly heard people talking. The attendants were gossiping about the Cavalry’s return ceremony to the Imperial Palace today... and the unbelievable things that happened there.”

“......”

“Even if I’m not a direct descendant... to not invite me, the Crown Prince, to such a joyous occasion? Truly heartless, don’t you think?”

“......”

“I asked you a question. Do you dare ignore the Crown Prince’s words?”

Still smiling, but now with a voice that had hardened—an oppressive tone, asserting his royal status to crush those beneath him.

Nothing about him was different from the past. But Yuder was no longer the Cavalry Commander who once obeyed the Emperor’s every order without question.

Come to think of it... this is the first time I’m speaking to Kachian la Orr face to face since I returned.

Even before, when he’d «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» seen that face, he hadn’t felt a burning desire for revenge, nor any particular discomfort—but now, it was as if the man before him had completely dropped out of his field of interest. He felt absolutely nothing. Looking at a rock might’ve stirred more emotion. Yuder clearly realized just how much he had changed.

He exhaled slowly, then finally opened his mouth.

“If Your Highness truly wishes to hear my thoughts... I shall speak. When you left for the South without informing anyone, what do you suppose His Majesty the Emperor and Her Majesty the Empress thought upon learning of it after the fact?”

“What?”

“Perhaps... they thought the same as what Your Highness just said.”

The smile tugging at Kachian’s lips vanished in an instant—his face crumpling so fast it was almost audible.

“Do you have any idea what you’re saying right now?”

“You asked for my thoughts. I simply gave them.”

“How insolent. You’ve grown arrogant, hiding behind your master.”

“I never said those words on anyone’s behalf. And the ones I follow are never behind me. They always stand ahead.”

Could Kachian la Orr even comprehend what he meant? Judging by his expression, apparently not.

Kachian clenched his jaw and glared at Yuder without even blinking. Yuder wouldn’t have been surprised if he hurled something. But unexpectedly, the young prince composed himself rather quickly.

“What a pity. A dog that doesn’t know when to tuck its tail will inevitably be put down by its master. And yet, here you are, barking away, unaware.”

“......”

“You don’t know it, but I do. I know just how two-faced the people here are—how they only care for themselves. You might be basking in glory now, but it won’t last.”

It sounded like a full-blown curse. Yuder was considering whether to ask if he was done throwing them when Kachian suddenly changed his tone and smiled again.

“...But I’m different.”

“......”

“I come from the outside—I’m not stagnant. That’s why I’m more generous toward newcomers like you. Fresh water must flow along new paths. Ever since I first saw you, I believed... if I could use your power to build the era I desire, it would be truly wonderful.”

Yuder had expected nothing Kachian said would surprise him anymore—but this, he hadn’t seen coming. He stared straight into Kachian’s eyes.

Unbelievable. He’s serious?

He had heard something similar in his previous life. Not long after Kachian ascended the throne, before his tyranny began and people still held hope in him. The young Emperor didn’t just follow Diarca’s guidance back then—he often spoke of remaking the world, saying grand things. One such remark had been directed at Yudrain Aile, the former Cavalry Commander.

“The new Commander will be the one to open a new era.”

“I will build a new Empire alongside Yudrain Aile and the reborn Cavalry.”

“His power belongs to the Emperor and the Empire. There is no need to fear it. Accept the Awakeners and work only for the Empire’s peace and prosperity.”

At the time, Yuder had even half-believed those words weren’t wrong. No one had ever told him—and the Cavalry—those things so clearly before. For a moment, he’d been genuinely pleased. Even though he killed Kishiar under the Emperor’s orders, by then it no longer felt like anything.

If the Cavalry could find a rightful place in the Empire without being shunned—if a bit of hardship was all it took—Yuder thought it might be worth it. He believed that when Kachian dealt with him harshly but also at times kindly in public, it was all for show.

To prove that there was no need to fear Awakeners, that they weren’t dangerous. That cooperating wasn’t such a bad thing.

But looking back now... not a single part of it had been true. Kachian only ever used Yuder and the Cavalry for his own selfish gain. He never once did it for the good of the Empire.

If he really meant what he just said—thinking he could win Yuder over the moment he laid eyes on him—then all it meant was that he wanted another strong, obedient weapon to command.

He always knew how to spot what would benefit him the most, that one.

It was laughable. And bitter.

After everything that had happened... was he really still so confident he could use Yuder again? That was absurd. And yet it was a brutal reminder—some things never change, even when the game is reset.

The man Yuder had seen in the future—the one who survived by throwing out every current power—was no different from them. He lived selfishly, filthier and crueler in some ways. Even when he claimed to embrace Awakeners, under his rule the Cavalry was nothing more than a useful weapon. Nothing more, nothing less.

And now, here stood the Crown Prince—so certain that he would never become that man. So convinced he was different. His eyes bore into Yuder as if to say: Just give me the sword and the chance to swing it, and I’ll make something of the world.

But the Yuder reflected in those eyes was no longer a man. He was a thing. A sword. An opportunity.

Unchanged from the past. And never to change.

Still... at least now I know exactly what to say. That alone is a relief.

Yuder opened his mouth, spitting the words like venom—directed at the former Emperor and the foolish man he once was.

“I beg Your Highness’s pardon... but do you know how the one who called himself the ‘Sage’ died in the South?”