Turning Chapter 986
“No matter how hard it is to believe, if there's only one answer left after eliminating all else...”
“...Then we have no choice but to believe that’s the answer.”
The same words, once spoken when Yuder had placed his trust in another, echoed again. Yuder nodded.
“Yes. Only then did I finally understand how you could say those words to me back then, Commander.”
In that moment, he could not help but believe—down to the marrow—that the one before him, and the figure with only a hand remaining in the dream, were indeed the same person at their core.
No matter how different the experiences or choices they had made, this too was Kishiar.
Someone far removed from the arrogant nobles who treated commoners like trash, someone who, like the Emperor who shared his blood, could cast aside what he loved without blinking if it meant protecting something dear.
Someone who could perform a flawless act—so perfect no one would suspect a thing—if that’s what was necessary to reach his goals.
That was who he truly was.
Objectively speaking, when considering the outcome, Yudrain Aile and the Cavalry lost nothing from Kishiar’s death—if anything, they gained.
Tied to the last heir of the fallen royal family, who was always a likely target for future purges, they were freed from the risk of being eliminated alongside him. By taking sole responsibility and succeeding in that dangerous and morally dubious mission, Yudrain also gained the profound trust of Emperor Kachian—something that couldn’t be won easily through any other means. Even the rumors of favoritism and inappropriate intimacy that had swirled around Yudrain’s promotion eventually faded after Kishiar’s death. Scandals, after all, don’t last long once the subject is gone.
What remained in the place of those humiliating rumors was a single whisper: that Yuder had assassinated the Duke of Peleta.
Those who remembered that quiet tale kept their distance and looked down on him, but never dared to cross the line.
Anyone born in the Empire of Orr could not help but carry, whether faint or strong, a mythical reverence for the bloodline of the ancient royal family. No matter how pathetic the Duke of Peleta had been—clearly a dying relic of the past—his noble blood still held real value, making him untouchable in the eyes of many. And if a mere commoner had truly killed such a man without the slightest hesitation, then who in the world would dare to provoke Yudrain Aile?
It was a superstition no one wanted to admit aloud, yet it carried more weight than reason itself.
It was no exaggeration to say that the reason Yuder—despite being a common-born Omega Awakener—could fully command the Cavalry, the most powerful military force on the continent, and face relatively little open resistance, «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» was thanks to that one event.
The only true “loss,” if it could be called that, was forgetting all memory of Kishiar—not even realizing he had forgotten. But Yuder had kept his distance from anything related to Kishiar long before that, until his own death. There had been no discomfort in that loss. After all, how could one suffer over something they didn’t even know they had?
Was it truly a coincidence that not a single person tried to avenge the Duke of Peleta after Kishiar’s death? Was the silent disappearance and disbandment of the Peleta knights really something that happened without Kishiar’s involvement—even when people like Nathan Zuckerman, who should’ve been ready to go to any lengths to kill Yuder, made no move?
Yuder hadn’t known it then. But he knew now. Those people wouldn’t move unless ordered by Kishiar.
And that meant, if Kishiar had given them an order, they would’ve obeyed—even if it was an incomprehensible one.
Because Yuder had succeeded in the assassination cleanly, the Emperor had buried the incident as quietly as possible. He likely didn’t want to risk giving any cause for the old royalist factions to rally together. The death of the Duke of Peleta was hushed up, and the purging sword didn’t fall on those who had followed him. Disbandment alone had ended the matter.
No one really knew the capabilities of the knights and aides who had followed the Duke of Peleta. They were considered unworthy of concern. Even Yuder, who had some inkling of Nathan Zuckerman’s hidden strength, hadn’t known his past or loyalty well enough to stay interested after hearing of his disappearance.
In the end, the only one who had died in that entire incident... was Kishiar la Orr.
Not a single follower of his—not even Yuder, who had gone there to assassinate him—was hurt. Everything had unfolded so naturally, so seamlessly, there was no room left for suspicion.
To vanish without a trace—how strange, how unnatural. Destroying or killing something is easier. Keeping it alive and pushing it beyond the world’s attention? That’s the true challenge.
Even just a few years later, the annihilation of the Pearl Tower had caused such societal unrest, with related incidents continuing to stir chaos.
At the time, Yuder had been too green—a newly appointed Commander—to grasp the depth of what had occurred.
But now he knew. Now that he had come to understand the current Kishiar, he could imagine what had truly been going on.
Kishiar would have wanted his people to remain unharmed for no reason, to be safe whenever possible. Facing death, if he had needed to prepare for a world without him, his top priority would have been their safety.
And perhaps... perhaps Yuder Aile himself had also been included in that circle of safety.
When that thought hit, Yuder could no longer contain the fire burning in his chest.
At the end of all that torment swirling in his head, Yuder finally gave voice to the only answer left.
“In the end, even there, you were still you. You might have acted for my sake, in your own way... and I couldn’t deny that.”
“......”
“Even not telling me anything at all—maybe that was intentional. If you’re truly the man I knew, it actually makes more sense that way. All the leftover pieces... they pointed more toward you. When I realized that...”
He couldn’t think of anything at all.
When he came to his senses, a hand in a white glove was wiping his tears. Only then did he realize he had been crying.
That cold yet gentle touch.
The not-quite-a-comfort, given by the vanished existence of the past, only made Yuder more certain of the answer he had reached.
And so, it hurt.
Saying it aloud hurt just as much. But this time, at least, he didn’t cry again without realizing it.
Yuder felt the strong heartbeat of Kishiar thudding beneath his fingertips and slowly lifted the corners of his lips.
It was a smile no one else would recognize. But the man before him would understand.
“...Even when there was only a hand left, you were still the Commander, dragging me along to see something important. You took me somewhere and made me witness strange fissures... and horrifying creatures.”
In a world painted pitch-black, a lone rift split through as if sliced by a blade—beyond it, a blue sea. And clawing to escape, a mountain of grotesque beings, trampling and devouring each other in a desperate struggle.
“When I realized there was a sea beyond that, the Southern Earthquake was the first thing that came to mind. That must be what’s about to happen. You were warning me about what might come through those rifts.”
The dream had ended like that. But before he fell and woke up, Yuder had made one thing clear to the hand in the white glove.
“As I said after I woke up, I will save you.”
The “you” he referred to was layered in meaning.
It was the hand in the white glove, left alone in the darkness beyond the rift. And it was also the man breathing faintly now, resting on Yuder’s lap.
To Yuder, there was no longer a distinction between the two.
“There might still be things I don’t know about the Commander from the previous game. No—there definitely are. I can’t say I remember everything. But that doesn’t matter.”
Even the Southern Earthquake, something he once believed might be impossible to stop despite all his preparation, had faded into memory. Perhaps the hand in the white glove should also be left behind like that, buried in the past.
But Yuder didn’t think so.
“...That’s everything I wanted to say.”
He looked down at Kishiar and quietly asked:
“Did hearing all this... displease you?”