Turning Chapter 1055

“When Luma left, I genuinely believed he wouldn’t return to this place until his objective was met. It truly seemed there was no reason for him to remain here. Thus, after a century had passed, I assumed he had likely perished somewhere, his goal unachieved…”

The hand that had been casually fiddling with the worn brooch of the Grand Mage clenched it tightly.

“However, upon reading that letter, my perspective began to change. I started to consider the possibility that Luma had been pursuing a path I hadn't anticipated.”

“A different path?” Yuder inquired.

Inon gave a nod.

“Indeed. Perhaps he didn’t die without accomplishing anything, but rather discovered a crucial clue—potentially even a method for moving forward. And he returned here to make preparations.”

He then muttered that he still lacked exact details about what those preparations might have entailed, before tucking the brooch back into his robe.

“Regardless of the specifics, the one certainty is that Luma’s sole purpose in coming here was to deliver this letter to me. It’s possible he left other items in different locations as well—things I have yet to find. I will need to conduct a more thorough examination, looking beyond the obvious.”

Following this, Inon calmly recited the letter's contents. The majority aligned with Yuder's prior reading, yet a few additional lines were present at the conclusion, lines Yuder had not yet encountered.

—However, should you return to the Wall, while you may achieve the objective of protection, reclaiming your former self will prove exceedingly difficult. Whether this constitutes liberation found through returning to the origin, or a mournful resignation, I cannot say. Bear in mind that shedding your physical form is akin to severing the soul’s connection with your own hand… Such is Luma’s final counsel.

“...”

“If you have any further questions regarding this, feel free to ask,” Inon offered.

“Was there… anything resembling a farewell? Or perhaps a personal note?”

To Kishiar’s subtly pointed question, Inon let out a short, dismissive sound.

“Didn’t you grasp the implication? He wasn’t the sort of person to pen such sentiments.”

“I see. Then, from your perspective as the pharmacist—when do you reckon the Grand Mage might have returned and deposited this?”

“It seems to me he deliberately obscured the timeline. He didn’t intend for it to be easily deciphered. But he was still mortal… No matter how late it was, it was likely within a century of his initial departure. I mean, even if Luma was a legendary mage, he didn’t discover a method for eternal life, did he? That’s precisely why he created me. Had he possessed immortality, he would have served as the Guardian himself. But why are you asking this now, so abruptly?”

Kishiar emitted a thoughtful hum and inclined his head.

“Your question brought to mind a particular artifact we received from the Prince of Nellaern.”

“An artifact?”

Yuder suddenly grasped the significance of Kishiar’s statement—it referred to the Voice of Dreams relic that Prince Ezein had dispatched to the Empire.

“It is a magical implement purportedly left behind by an individual known as the Blind Sage. While the Empire never officially acknowledged this claim, the populace of Nellaern firmly believes that the Blind Sage was, in fact, Luma, after his departure from the Empire. Have you encountered this narrative?”

“No. Following Luma’s disappearance, far too many charlatans emerged, falsely claiming to be him.”

“That is precisely the reason the Empire also dismissed the assertion. However, unlike all those impostors, the Blind Sage was genuinely a practitioner of magic. In ages past, even before the term ‘magical artifact’ came into common usage, he crafted tools capable of performing wonders and curing ailments. And some of the relics he left behind continue to function even today.”

“...”

“If Luma was willing to dedicate his heart and his hand to another, why might he not have offered his eyes as well, subsequent to his departure from the Empire?”

“Does this Blind Sage individual have a resting place?” Inon inquired, his expression unchanged.

Kishiar responded with a shake of his head.

“No. He roamed widely, never associating with the prominent figures of Nellaern. He aided the poor and the infirm, performing miraculous deeds before vanishing without a trace. The representations we possess of him—whether drawings or carvings—are all derived from hearsay and anecdotal accounts. None were created through direct observation. Were it not for the surviving relics, we might lack any concrete proof of his existence at all.”

“Upon our return, permit me to examine this artifact the prince sent. I shall ascertain its authenticity once I’ve had the opportunity to inspect it.”

“Naturally. We have yet to ascertain how to activate it, in any case.”

Yuder questioned, “Did you not bring the Mirror of Truth with you when you retrieved it? Even with its capabilities, you were unable to discern anything distinctive?”

“Correct. I forwarded it to the Royal Mage Office, but have yet to receive any feedback. Nevertheless, it is not entirely surprising, considering the people of Nellaern likely utilized an instrument comparable to the Mirror of Truth.”

Originally, the item had been acquired with the hope that it might contribute to the healing of Emperor Keillusa’s weakened vessel. Now that the Emperor had made a full recovery, there was no pressing need to unlock its function—but even if it did not, in truth, belong to Luma, further understanding it would still be a valuable pursuit. There was no reason to withhold it from Inon’s examination.

“Anything you’re curious about?” Inon inquired next, his gaze shifting to Yuder, his eyes hinting that he already knew Yuder’s primary concern. Faced with such an assured look, any hesitation about asking was pointless. Yuder met his gaze and slowly began to speak.

“I’m wondering if… the version of you from the last iteration of the game read the letter and returned to the Wall. And if you did… what became of you?”

“Who knows? I probably did head back, though. Considering I never returned afterward, it seems Luma was correct—re-establishing myself was impossible.”

“...”

“Oh, come on, don’t get that look on your face! Sure, circumstances outside must have been truly dire back then. But Luma explicitly stated it in the letter, didn’t he? Whether it leads to freedom or surrender, you’ll only discover the outcome by acting.”

Yuder was about to question what specific look he meant, but the thought evaporated with Inon’s subsequent words.

“He was issuing a warning. To consider carefully, as the consequences could be severe.”

“A warning, yes. But perhaps that phrase about ‘freedom found by returning to the source’ doesn’t imply an entirely negative outcome.”

“To me, it sounds more like the ‘freedom’ one finds in death.”

Freedom gained through death, or regret through surrender—both paths ultimately led to cessation. And based on his own experiences, Yuder understood both intimately.

“You little brat. You seem intent on twisting my words into something bleak, don’t you?”

Inon’s expression hardened, his brow furrowed. Yuder opted not to further provoke him.

“Try to cultivate a more optimistic interpretation of things! And for the record, I have absolutely no intention of going back to the Wall, so get that clear!”

With a raised voice, Inon sprang to his feet.

“That’s enough discussion about the letter! I’m resuming my search. We could be here for a while, so either assist in scouring the area or head upstairs to rest!”

It was peculiar. Inon’s voice had clearly risen in irritation, yet Yuder felt a sense of ease he hadn’t experienced moments before. He recognized a profound sense of relief washing over him upon hearing that Inon had no desire to return to the Wall.

…How irrational.

Regardless of where Inon journeyed or what path he selected, the choice was solely his. Yuder possessed no right to intervene. Yet, if Inon had attempted to return to the Wall, as he had in their previous existence—if he had chosen to offer himself as a sacrifice—Yuder would have employed every means to prevent it.

It was a selfish sentiment. Nonetheless, he genuinely wished to continue engaging in these kinds of dialogues with Inon.

He claims he has no intention of returning now, but… if circumstances deteriorate, who can say for certain? This only strengthens the need to uncover more information and reach a resolution more swiftly.

Yuder reaffirmed his awareness of the considerable weight of his responsibilities. Even though they had averted the most dire outcomes in the West and South, the challenges were far from concluded.

***

As Inon had anticipated, their stay extended beyond the initial expectation. They dedicated several hours to meticulously searching the laboratory together. However, apart from the few items Inon was already aware of, no new wooden fragments containing significant information were unearthed.

The majority of the wooden pieces were inscribed with intricate magical theories that eluded Yuder’s comprehension; unlike the letter, he could not decipher their meaning clearly. Eventually, night descended, and Kishiar and Yuder were practically ushered upstairs towards the sleeping quarters. While Inon’s official reason was to investigate the second floor, no one misinterpreted this directive as anything other than an invitation to clean up and rest.

This location is so secluded that our steeds tethered at the forest’s edge are safe from discovery. That’s a considerable relief.

Two bedrooms were situated on the second floor. Yuder surmised that one had belonged to the Grand Mage and the other to Inon. Both rooms were impeccably clean and well-maintained, exhibiting no discernible peculiarities.

“Shall we utilize separate rooms tonight? Or perhaps share?” Kishiar inquired with a hint of playfulness.

“Naturally, I shall share a room with you, Commander. Surely you aren’t suggesting… sharing with Inon?”

Yuder posed the question merely for confirmation. Kishiar erupted in laughter, akin to a night-blooming flower unfurling.

“Absolutely not. That arrangement would have caused considerable distress to both the pharmacist and myself.”

“I wouldn’t be overjoyed either.”

Yuder’s terse response prompted another burst of laughter from Kishiar.

“Very well. In that case, let us seek rest. If we continue to exert ourselves without adequate sleep, the one downstairs might become concerned.”

“...”

It was highly probable that Kishiar had posed the question precisely because he had sensed Yuder’s continued preoccupation with Inon’s situation. Yuder released a soft sigh and offered a nod in agreement.

He settled beside Kishiar and closed his eyes.

Then, what felt like mere moments later, he abruptly opened them once more.

…I assumed I wouldn’t be able to sleep. It appears I was mistaken.

Previously, the room had not seemed so enveloped in darkness, but now it was utterly pitch black. He must have drifted into slumber for several hours. The distant call of a nocturnal bird could be faintly heard.

Yuder held his breath, attempting to detect any indication of movement from Inon in the adjacent room. However, he perceived nothing.

There’s no way he’s still downstairs…

He carefully arose from the bed, exercising caution to avoid making any sound or disturbing Kishiar. Yet, before he could take a step, a low voice resonated through the darkness.

“…You are contemplating a descent downstairs.”

“You’re awake? My apologies.”

“There’s no need for that.”

The man who was lying down turned his head and extended his hand, gently touching Yuder’s cheek. As that warm hand rested against him, Yuder momentarily closed his eyes. Kishiar let out a soft breath.

“I’ll wait for you here. You should go on ahead.”

“Aren’t you coming with me?”

“If I accompany you, the pharmacist will surely be displeased. However, for a brief farewell kiss, I believe I can wait patiently right here.”

Kishiar had already perfectly discerned Yuder’s intentions. Yuder remained quiet for a moment before giving a nod.

“I’ll just take a quick look and return.”

He lowered his head and planted a kiss upon Kishiar’s lips. He could sense the upward curve forming at the corner of Kishiar’s mouth.