Chapter 987

“Did hearing all of that... displease you?”

Yuder waited quietly for a response, counting the steady thudding heartbeat beneath his hand.

Thump, thump, thump.

When it had pulsed exactly twenty-one times, Kishiar finally spoke.

“Why would I... be displeased?”

Yuder answered honestly.

“Because the first time I spoke about the previous game, you didn’t seem to have any fond feelings toward the former Commander.”

Kishiar had no memory like Yuder did, and nothing about today’s conversation was particularly pleasant to know. If he’d felt that Yuder was projecting a stranger’s image onto him, he might even be regretting listening.

Of course, he could say otherwise out of consideration—but emotions don’t flow according to logic.

The man, who had been quietly watching Yuder, asked again.

“And if I had been displeased, what would you have done?”

“...Honestly? There’s not much I could do.”

That was something Yuder had already accepted before he ever began speaking—knowing full well that Kishiar might regret hearing it.

If this conversation caused Kishiar pain or regret, Yuder would be the one to suffer for it. But there was nothing more he could do. The words had already been said, and there was no way to take them back or erase the memory. That’s the weight of choosing to confess something.

Still—

“...Even so, I think it was better than staying silent.”

There are things in this world that must be said, even knowing the outcome may not be good.

The hand in the white glove had taught Yuder that.

"You’re the one who changed me."

Yuder closed his eyes.

And when he opened them again—

“...Yes. You’re right.”

The smile of the man lying down and looking up at him stole the breath from his chest.

His eyes, shimmering like rain, curved into a smile like a scatter of blooming flowers.

Within that gaze, Yuder felt the heart beneath his palm pound violently, as if it would burst.

From the corners of those red, unblinking eyes, droplets fell silently, tracing clear paths down Kishiar’s cheeks and leaving marks on Yuder’s leg.

So faint they were barely visible—yet to Yuder, they felt like searing brands.

Even if fire ran like water, if water blazed like flame, if wind collapsed and the earth rose up—there would still be no words that could fully describe the shock and emotion he felt from seeing that expression.

Slowly, Yuder reached out and wiped Kishiar’s eyes. As he stared down at the moisture on his fingertips, Kishiar spoke again.

“You were right. Speaking out is better than silence. And even if knowing hurts more than not knowing, it still gives us a path forward.”

“......”

“...Thank you for telling me. It might sound strange, but... I was happy.”

Yuder blinked slowly.

“...Happy?”

“Yes.”

“You’re saying... you didn’t hate it, or regret hearing it?”

Kishiar’s lips curved a little more into a deeper smile.

“Do you remember? I once told you that when I was young, I dreamed of being a hero from the legends.”

Yuder remembered. It was after he had slain the massive monster known as Petuamet in a previous life—during the time when his eyes were bandaged from injury.

“After realizing I’d never be able to fulfill that dream, I tried to forget it ever existed. Remembering it only reminded me of my limitations, my useless shell. It was painful.”

“......”

“But when I arrived at Peleta, when I thought things could fall no further... that word came back to me again. This time, not as something I wanted to become, but as someone I hoped might appear.”

His voice was soft in the still air.

“I hoped that someone, anyone, would appear and help me. That some hero would rescue me from the fate I couldn’t escape no matter how I struggled. And if I could walk beside that hero...”

“...Then maybe I could believe there was a reason I was born into this life.”

He let out a small laugh.

“...Childish, wasn’t it?”

No. It wasn’t childish. It was something any human would feel.

Anyone banished to isolation, stripped of everything, faced with a future filled only with pain and death—of course they would yearn for salvation.

Yuder wanted to say that, but Kishiar’s words continued, so he remained silent.

“But just now, I suddenly realized something. Salvation already came for me. And more than that... I’ve been given the chance to save someone else, alongside the one who saved me.”

“......”

“That’s what your words sounded like to me.”

Yuder didn’t speak for a long moment, then slowly shook his head.

“...No. I...”

“You said you’d save me, didn’t you? Are you planning to do all that alone?”

The interruption came with a question already knowing its own answer. Yuder stared at the water on his fingertips and exhaled.

“...No.”

“......”

“I’ve learned very clearly this time that I /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ can’t do everything alone. So of course... I’ll need you, Commander.”

“There it is.”

Kishiar laughed—light, but layered with pain and relief. More drops spilled again onto Yuder’s hand.

“We’ve never stood at exactly the same crossroad, so I can’t say for certain... but there is one thing I do know. If I were him...”

If he had been me.

Kishiar’s lips paused for a heartbeat, then opened clearly, so there would be no mistake in hearing.

“...Not even for a moment would I have resented you. Or hated you.”

“......”

“And I wouldn’t have been hurt knowing you felt that way, either. Even now, not one bit.”

Because—I feel the same way.

Yuder lowered his head. He could no longer bear to look at the man’s face.

He pressed his head into Kishiar’s chest and held him close. The returning arms embraced him just as tightly, like letting go would mean death.

Through that closeness, Yuder thought of a man he’d believed long vanished.

In a distant memory, the man smiled wearily, but with genuine warmth in his eyes.

"—You’re finally becoming a decent swordsman. I wish I’d had more time to teach you."

“...That’s because you only come out at night, Commander.”

“Haha. Sometimes there are reasons why one can only move at night.”

“...I’m not sure I want to know.”

“Right. Come to think of it, we’ve got a meeting and drinks scheduled tomorrow afternoon. Shall we continue tonight’s work in the Commander’s office?”

“...There?”

“It’s not bad. Quite a spacious room. And I’ll make sure we’re alone, so there’s no risk of someone overhearing.”

“......”

“Well? Shall we?”

“...Yes.”

“Good.”

A hand approached to ruffle Yuder’s hair, then paused. Yuder lowered his arms and silently watched the man walk away.

They hadn’t touched. That should’ve been a relief. And yet... some strange, unplaceable regret welled up.

“...Ah.”

At that moment, a long-unnoticed hole in Yuder’s heart was finally filled.

Still buried in the embrace, Yuder slowly traced that long-forgotten memory.

The sensation of something you didn’t even realize was missing... returning.

It wasn’t a happy feeling. But if Kishiar could call even that happiness, then Yuder would try to accept it that way, too.

And so, he gave this sharp, vivid pain a new name.

***

“Alright, that’s everything.”

Lusan had returned and finally visited the Commander’s office to completely heal Kishiar’s remaining external wounds. Yuder felt a distinct sense of relief watching the glowing white light erase every last trace of injury.

“Thank you, Priest.”

“Thank you, Priest Lusan. You must still be tired.”

“Not at all. Well then, I’ll be off to check on the others! Please call me anytime you need me.”

Lusan gave a sheepish smile and quickly left. Kishiar looked in the mirror, rubbed his chin, and winked brightly.

“Mmm. Now it truly feels like everything’s back in place.”

“I’m relieved to see your recovery went smoothly.”

“Thank you. So then... before we start catching up on all the work we missed, why don’t we first address something I didn’t get the chance to ask last night?”

Kishiar turned to Yuder with a teasing smile.

“How exactly do you plan to rescue the beauty trapped inside the tower—who can’t be reached from this side, my aide?”