Turning Chapter 1054

Yuder snapped his head around.

“Did you finish reading it?”

“Yes. You were correct — it was indeed a letter from Luma.”

Yuder had anticipated Inon launching into an explanation of the letter’s contents immediately, but what followed was entirely unforeseen.

“Give me your hand.”

As Yuder extended the hand Kishiar wasn’t holding, Inon brought his palm down with a loud smack. It didn’t inflict pain, but it was certainly startling.

“…What in the world?”

“Why are you shaking? Did you think something would happen to me the moment I read it?”

As Yuder slowly blinked and gazed at his stinging palm, Kishiar let out a chuckle.

“Mmh. Such an elegant display of anger. And thanks to that, the trembling in this hand has completely subsided.”

It was only then that Yuder recognized the complete absence of strength in both his hands.

“When someone is lost in pointless thoughts, the most effective way to jolt them back to reality is by inflicting a different kind of shock. It’s surprisingly effective. You should try it yourself next time he drifts off again.”

“Thank you for the advice. However, I doubt I could pull that off. That seems to be a method only you, hyung-nim, could manage.”

“Oh, is that so? Then use your own methods. You’re quite adept at those. You know—talking your way through situations and charming people into a stupor.”

“Lately, my confidence in that hasn’t been as strong as it used to be… but hearing such recognition is quite heartening. I shall continue to hone those skills.”

Yuder couldn’t help but ponder if Inon and Kishiar had somehow forged a closer bond in the brief period he wasn’t paying attention.

While he was still processing this, Inon turned his gaze directly towards Yuder.

“Before I delve into what I discovered from the letter, I wish to inform you of the promise I made with Luma. Please, sit.”

Both Yuder and Kishiar took seats in the newly arranged chairs. Inon idly twirled the wooden piece in his grasp as he commenced his narration.

“Mm… Right. I suppose it all began from the moment I first opened my eyes. A long, long time ago, after I initially awoke here, I spent a considerable duration confined within this solitary place. It was just Luma and me. A period of quietude. He imparted everything to me—from the fundamental tenets of human common sense to my designated responsibilities. He declared that upon reaching readiness, I would journey to the Capital and assume its role as guardian.”

“...”

“As I was essentially an infant then, I possessed no understanding of Luma’s specific research, nor the reasons for his occasional refusal to let me leave and his hushed conversations with someone upstairs. Now, I suspect that ‘someone’ was likely the First Duke of Ta-in… although it’s possible it was another individual as well.”

“...”

“I’ve lost track of how long I lived in such a state. Once I reached a physical maturity comparable to my current appearance, Luma began venturing away from the Girandru hilltop more frequently. He cited the need to pursue leads pertaining to his altered research objective. He also mentioned that the contract with the spirit who had pledged its soul to me was nearing completion, and thus, there was no longer a compelling reason for him to remain here as he had previously.”

It was challenging to discern any distinct emotion from Inon’s expression. Typically candid and expressive, he now appeared more akin to a stoic, unmoving tree.

“Truthfully… I felt somewhat abandoned. Back then, Luma constituted my entire existence. Suddenly, he seemed like someone merely completing a task. So, what do you suppose I did?”

“…I cannot say.”

“Either absconded or initiated a confrontation.”

As Yuder silently contemplated—he had never experienced such a profound sense of bitterness, not even upon his grandfather’s passing—Kishiar raised his hand and offered a casual response.

“Those are the most predictable forms of rebellion exhibited by immature children.”

Inon nodded, raising an eyebrow slightly.

“Both are accurate. It sounds as though you’ve engaged in such activities quite frequently, haven’t you?”

“Haha. I was the family’s notorious troublemaker. Despite understanding those who urged me to take care of my health, I harbored resentment and frequently acted out.”

That must have been after the young Kishiar apprehended the fragility of his own body. The realization that even this man of indomitable resilience had once endured a difficult youth, struggling to accept his predetermined fate, suddenly felt tangible.

Moreover, the fact that he could speak so easily about such a delicate matter with Inon likely signified a reciprocal offering of personal vulnerability in exchange for the weighty secret Inon was preparing to divulge.

“In any case, my anger towards Luma prompted me to flee. And that was precisely when I perished for the first time and subsequently regenerated. Had Luma not pursued me, I would not have survived even a solitary year—a rather unimpressive thousand-year guardian I would have been.”

Inon’s narrative of that particular incident was brief. He appeared slightly discomfited.

“Upon regaining consciousness, Luma reinstated my memories and recommenced my tutelage from the very beginning. And this time, he spoke with complete honesty—explaining the rationale behind my creation and why I was irrevocably chosen for this purpose.”

“...”

“He stated… that his intention was to safeguard the enduring legacy of a cherished friend who had departed. To achieve this, he required a method to protect the Capital for an unforeseeable future. He requested my assistance, asserting that I was the sole individual capable of fulfilling this role.”

A faint smile touched Inon’s lips. His lemon-colored eyes drifted past Yuder, settling on an empty tree behind him, as if gazing into the distant past.

“For the very first and final time, Luma and I ventured outside. We journeyed to the Capital. I partook in food like any ordinary human, mingled with the populace, and slept there soundly. It wasn’t as opulent as it is now, but a sense of safety and peace permeated the air. In those days, the world was still quite turbulent. Nevertheless, I found myself cherishing it. And Luma, he was genuinely content. For the first time since my awakening, he displayed sheer joy. He consumed his entire meal in one go, a stark contrast to his usual selective eating.”

The Grand Mage of legend, a figure no one had ever truly encountered—hearing Inon recount his tales, he almost seemed like the man from down the street. For someone so mythical, so legendary, that perception was profoundly strange.

Perhaps it was because Inon spoke of Luma with such natural ease, as one would recall a dear companion.

He likely had never shared these recollections with another soul, yet it felt as though he had narrated them countless times. The precision with which he remembered even the most minute details and expressions—it was evident these memories had been held dear for an exceedingly long duration. Yuder could scarcely fathom the emotional weight of such an experience.

“That was the point at which I grasped the depth of Luma’s affection for the Capital. If he went to such lengths as to create me solely for its preservation… then perhaps it truly warranted safeguarding. It was in that very moment I resolved to become a genuine protector.”

Inon lowered his gaze to his own hands—possessing five fingers, like any human, the hands of an herbalist.

“Even after I pledged to assume the role of guardian, Luma did not immediately consent. He harbored concerns. I believe he recognized—especially in the aftermath of the incident—that a part of me was indeed human. This troubled him deeply. Despite my assurances of unwavering resolve, he found it difficult to place his trust in me immediately. Consequently, we forged an agreement.”

“…”

“I would serve as Luma’s proxy, defending the Capital until the appointed time. In return, Luma would provide me with the means to live comfortably as a guardian. This pact would endure as long as I deemed the Capital worthy of protection. Should I ever conclude it was no longer so, the covenant would dissolve, and I would be at liberty to depart.”

“What precisely did Luma signify by ‘the appointed time’?” Kishiar inquired.

Inon responded with composure.

“To articulate it plainly, a juncture where the Seventh Wall might potentially crumble. Or a situation so precarious that it simulated such an eventuality.”

“So, the ultimate decision rested entirely with you.”

“Precisely.”

Having uttered these words, Inon released a gentle sigh and proceeded.

“I suspect Luma felt it inappropriate to burden me with excessive knowledge at that juncture. Perhaps even he harbored uncertainties regarding whether such a moment would ever materialize. Regardless, we formalized the contract, and not long thereafter, he departed. One day, I awoke to find my hand replaced and him gone—he described it as his final offering to aid me, never even bidding farewell. I was incensed.”

“…Hold. Replaced what?”

The casual manner in which Inon delivered the statement nearly caused Yuder to overlook the profound significance of his words. Inon lifted the hand resting on the desk, flexing its fingers.

“My hand. This one.”

“What exactly did he replace?”

“You are aware that the bedrock of my existence is a wood spirit, correct? Have you ever contemplated the composition of my physical form?”

“…No.”

He had simply assumed it was a human body inhabited by a spirit’s essence—but upon reflection, the origin of the physical vessel remained a mystery. Inon provided the revelation.

“Luma indicated that the creation of a body capable of housing a spirit’s soul and harmonizing with the Seventh Walls—thereby facilitating reabsorption and regeneration—was exceptionally demanding. Following numerous attempts and refinements, he achieved success. My body was fashioned from apple blossom wood… infused with a portion of Luma’s very heart. It was the sole prototype to endure.”

Even Kishiar, who had maintained an aura of unwavering composure throughout the narrative, was momentarily rendered speechless. Yuder shared the same sentiment.

…He mingled what with what?

“Do not press for specifics. I possess no knowledge—I had not even been conceived at the time. What I do comprehend is that my physical form is fundamentally derived from Luma’s heart. And prior to his departure, he severed his own hand and affixed it to me.”

“Then… Luma existed without a hand? Why specifically his hand?”

“That is unlikely. I mean, we are discussing an individual who constructed a living human body—he most certainly fashioned a replacement for himself. As to the rationale behind choosing the hand? It facilitates mana manipulation, even in the absence of spellcasting proficiency.”

Inon’s lips contorted into a wry, unconventional smile.

“I possess knowledge of magic—yet I am not a mage. So, why do you surmise I have consistently demonstrated an aptitude for handling enchanted artifacts and discerning Luma’s illusions?”

“…”

“In any event, the contents of the letter Luma bequeathed to me are predicated entirely upon that accord. It was penned with the foresight that, after an extended period, the day he had fervently hoped would never dawn had indeed arrived. That the guardian persisted, having traversed such a vast expanse of time, still endeavoring to protect the Capital.”

Yuder felt a heavy sensation descend upon his heart. Inon seemed to perceive this, and his voice rose slightly.

“But here’s the thing. What matters isn’t whether I follow some ‘final method’ Luma left behind. What matters is... none of this was here when I left. I think he came back here after I was gone and left it.”

For a moment, the air in Luma’s laboratory felt like it shifted. Yuder carefully asked,

“But earlier, you said you didn’t think Luma would have returned here. Are you sure?”

“I didn’t see him—but he did secretly visit when people he knew passed away. That much I’ve heard. And remember, this lemon flower brooch? It was discovered recently.”

Inon pulled the old lemon blossom brooch from his coat. It was the one found among the monster remains in the ruins left by the First Duke of Ta-in.