Chapter 859

Kishiar finally looked down at Yuder, whose head had dropped and eyes had closed.

It was a truly wretched sight. Soaked in the blood from Hosanra’s explosion, his hair and body were drenched in red, and every limb was twisted, torn, and in disarray.

But the most horrifying part was {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} the thick black veins that rose sharply against his blood-drenched skin. Not just a dark red—they were pitch-black, branching like vines over his face, his body, even his tongue and eyes. One would have to strip his clothes to determine the full extent, but even what was visible was more than enough to make clear: something had gone seriously wrong.

That was why no one had dared react to the Pharmacist’s “burst tomato” comment. Just seeing him was proof enough that Yuder Aile had truly pushed himself until he shattered.

Kishiar looked at Yuder’s arm, now limp and exposed beneath his sleeves as he passed out. That grotesquely swollen limb stirred a fresh surge in his chest—a place that had thought itself beyond shock.

Of all those who’d seen Yuder swing his sword earlier, how many would believe that arm had been in such a state? Even Kishiar himself hadn’t realized the extent of it at the time.

Completely crushed, yet he stood tall until the very end, voice steady, never once faltering.

Kishiar closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He no longer knew if he was smiling or what kind of expression he wore. His body had already long since passed its own limits.

He’d received a Purification Stone from Nathan—something reserved for only the worst-case scenarios—and managed to absorb a bit of divine power. That was the only reason he was still conscious. His left eye, clotted with blood, couldn’t see at all, and the other flickered weakly. His strained vessel screamed in agony with every breath, and his vision blinked in and out, blackness and light trading places.

Even so, the sole reason he’d endured until now was the belief that he could not collapse until Yuder had let go and accepted his own state. His thoughts were slow, his mind sluggish—but at the very least, he could remain by Yuder’s side. His vessel hadn’t shattered. Not yet.

‘...It’s been a long time since I’ve felt this.’

Had he ever come this far to the front line?

‘No.’

Had he ever used this much strength?

‘Never.’

Kishiar la Orr was a man most comfortable beyond the battlefield—watching from afar, analyzing the whole board. Whether it was in the palace, within Peleta Castle, or among the Cavalry, he was accustomed to guiding the pieces from above.

And yet he had always wished, one day, to step onto that board himself—to act, to move freely. When he had finally used that strength not long ago, he’d been overwhelmed by the liberation he felt.

But now?

‘.......’

Kishiar was feeling for the first time the gap between theoretical predictions and actual experience. There were things no estimate or calculation could capture—things like the damage inflicted when he delivered a blow, only to see it land on someone he cared about.

And yet Yuder, unlike him, only seemed more composed the worse things became. Like a lone banner standing on a battlefield full of holes and failures.

He had surpassed every expectation Kishiar ever had. That face, steeped in despair, blood, and steel. The one that swallowed grief in an instant and silenced emotion behind jet-black eyes—more war incarnate than man.

Awe-inspiring. And painful.

Trying so hard to function as a weapon, stripping away everything else.

Perhaps that was the Yuder from the “previous game.”

Back then, Yuder looked as if he could no longer even hear others’ voices. Possessed by a single obsession—to resolve the rift—he hadn’t even registered Kishiar’s words. He had become so unrecognizable that even his fellow Cavalry members had been deeply shaken.

That was why it had been so timely when those comrades appeared—those who loved and cherished Yuder. Kishiar had stepped back just enough to give them space. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to keep Yuder safely wrapped in his voice and arms. But sometimes, there were methods beyond his own—ones that were more effective and more needed.

The Pharmacist who cared for Yuder like his own chick, Kanna who could read what remained unsaid, and the Cavalry who never retreated no matter Yuder’s condition... Those people—who had survived thanks to him—brought him back to himself.

Watching from a little distance, Kishiar gave Nathan and Gino their orders, received the Purification Stone, and pretended to be in better shape than he was.

Of course, Nathan hadn’t fully understood Kishiar’s decision.

‘...How do you plan to keep going like this? Please reconsider. You need treatment right away, Duke.’

Kishiar had shaken his head.

‘Why...’

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

‘What I need right now isn’t treatment, Nathan. Believe it or not, I don’t think I’m going to die today. There’s something more important here. So I have to stay.’

Yuder was still on his feet, refusing to rest. So Kishiar had to remain, too.

Even if they no longer had the strength to protect each other—something beyond instinct told them this was the moment they were most needed.

And as a result, Yuder was now in his arms. Finally asleep, finally unable to worry about what came next.

“......”

Kishiar held him a little tighter, shielding him from the cold and the hail as he exhaled. Heat radiated from Yuder’s body, so strong it seemed to melt the ice that touched his skin. Kishiar carefully brushed the droplets from Yuder’s cheek, then rested his forehead lightly against Yuder’s.

This—this was all he could do now.

‘And one more thing...’

To watch how the things he and Yuder had prepared would shine and overcome this darkness.

High above, monsters began to emerge from the rift. Unlike the massive one that had appeared above the southern branch, these were small and clustered—looking like bugs or clouds of dust.

“----!”

Fireworks burst across the sky. Shouts rang out, piercing the weather and darkness.

And through all of it, Kishiar spotted Inon and Lusan charging back toward them.

He smiled faintly.

“All of them... are the result of your efforts. Even me...”

It was strange. Even in this moment—this unknowable, dangerous situation—he couldn’t shake the feeling.

That they would not lose.

He wondered what Yuder would say if he told him that. Then he stopped wondering.

“Emon! Three behind us!”

“Got it!”

Suns and Emon exchanged a glance, activating their powers with practiced ease. They no longer froze up at the sight of monsters. It wasn’t that they weren’t afraid—it was more like fear itself had stopped registering.

And really, who had time for fear—

“Kill them! Just wipe them out!”

“If you can’t handle that, get out of the Cavalry! Turn in your badge, bastards!”

—when the battlefield was full of comrades screaming like maniacs, fighting like demons?

The Cavalry fought as if they didn’t feel pain. Even when attacked, they didn’t flinch. Some even seemed eager to get injured if it meant landing a fatal blow.

Suns, watching these near-demonic figures, found himself remembering—dimly, and with disbelief—the face of Yuder Aile he had seen earlier.