Chapter 1053

“I couldn’t fully grasp the meaning even after reading it... but I’m sure you can. Read it. I think it might contain clues to the information we’ve been searching for.”

Inon lowered his gaze to the wooden fragment in his hand. Yuder stood up and gently pulled him.

“And if possible, read it here.”

“What now?”

“Just... I feel like this is the right place.”

Inon narrowed his eyes and looked at Yuder’s expression as if trying to read his intention, then let out a long sigh. No further questions or complaints followed. Yuder only stepped back once he confirmed that Inon had sat down slowly and gripped the wooden piece tightly. Inon closed his eyes in concentration—likely part of the preparation needed to read Luma’s records.

What I read probably wasn’t the full letter written on that piece... but still...

Even with just that fragment of information, there were already things he could infer.

Yuder recalled the time just before Inon from his previous life had vanished.

That was when the West and South had fallen into chaos, and calamities had begun to sporadically erupt across the Empire. The entire Cavalry had to disperse daily to respond to crises, but all they could really do was plug the dam that had already burst. No one could predict where the next disaster would strike, what kind it would be. Only after disaster struck would they rush in, recover the casualties, and stand in the way with their bare bodies so the survivors could flee—that was all they could do back then.

It was around then that Yuder began chasing the abnormal rifts he considered the most credible evidence. Investigating them had been incredibly difficult, but it felt like he had to do something. Emperor Kachian, anxious over the growing instability, had wanted Yudrain by his side, but because Yuder refused, the atmosphere grew increasingly tense.

Kachian had become more irritable by the day, growing more suspicious. Opportunistic nobles took advantage of the turmoil. Public sentiment worsened with rising hardship. Charlatans used the chaos to spread delusions and lies. And the relentless barrage of crises never stopped.

In the midst of it all, trying to gather information and move alone was extremely difficult. So Yuder turned to Inon many times. No matter how shady or suspicious Inon’s identity might have been, not once had the information he provided been false. Compared to information guilds that only wanted to con people for coin, it was far more reliable to cling to the offhand remarks Inon gave. That was why Yuder kept risking danger to visit his pharmacy under strict vigilance.

Of course, even back then, Inon hadn’t been very cooperative.

“Rumors about people who witnessed abnormal rifts? News about mages from the Pearl Tower? What the hell are you talking about? I’ve only ever lived in the Capital—how would I know that? Don’t tell me you think I know everything that happens on the entire continent? Last time you came in here with a busted knee—did you hit your head too?”

That was his general attitude—treating Yuder like a lunatic. But despite his insults, he’d eventually bring up some useful information from who-knows-where. Compared to what Inon provided directly, the quality was lower, but for someone like Yuder who operated alone, even that was valuable.

Perhaps it was through that process that Inon began to sense how rapidly the continent’s political climate was changing. One day, while staring at Yuder during a visit, he’d suddenly said:

“You keep showing up alone. Injured. How many times has it been now? Don’t you have anyone helping you?”

“What do you care?”

“Listen to that bratty tone. I’m just saying—what I’m giving you probably isn’t even that helpful, and you’re running around risking your damn life for scraps. Why not ask someone to help you? Or at least tell someone.”

“I’m fine. It’s better than nothing.”

“You have a death wish, huh?”

“...”

“You know, when I look at you, sometimes I wonder if I was too late. If I’d taken an interest in the outside world sooner... maybe something would’ve been different. Lately I’ve been thinking too much.”

He’d said that, then gone quiet and sighed.

“Forget it. No point talking. You won’t understand what I mean anyway. You’re not even gonna ask for help. You’re the kind of guy who’d rather just die than do that. It’s infuriating. I’ll just move myself.”

“Move what?”

“I mean, I’ll go out and dig around myself!”

Yuder didn’t give that statement much thought. The next day, he had to eliminate a group planning sedition and then go deal with a natural disaster that had struck the same region.

Months later, when Yuder returned to Inon’s pharmacy, it was the only place in District 7 that didn’t reek of blood—but the door was locked. People said the pharmacist who lived there had abruptly said he’d be away and then vanished. No one knew where he went or who he left with. Not only that, they didn’t even remember his face or name /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ properly anymore. But Yuder couldn’t really blame them.

He’d begun to suspect that Inon really was a spy from another nation, and that he’d used the chaos as an opportunity to escape. When he forced the door open and entered, the place was completely empty. As he searched with a strange feeling in his gut, he came to the spot where Inon used to fold medicinal papers. There, he found a small folded paper packet.

Inside was a letter—Inon’s own account of his identity.

At first, Yuder didn’t believe it. Who would? A guardian who had made a pact with Luma? That wasn’t even a person. He had no idea what that meant, or what he was supposed to do with that information.

But no matter how much he tried to dismiss it, one fact was undeniable.

From the moment he read that letter, the hazy fog that had clouded the memory of ‘Inon’ and his name was lifted. He could suddenly remember it again, clearly. So naturally he hadn’t even realized it until it was already back.

Inon never returned. The calamities reached the outskirts of the Capital, but strangely, they never breached the Seventh Wall. The Capital became the final stronghold—the last hope for the people. Emperor Kachian expressed deep joy when the Sage Diemon claimed that the Emperor’s legitimacy was being proven by the power of the Seventh Wall. Land prices in the Capital skyrocketed. The poor who’d lived within the Seventh Wall were driven out. Nobles fleeing from the provinces took their place.

Even up to the moment Yuder was captured and executed, the Capital stood strong. In prison, he sometimes thought of the missing pharmacist. Where had he gone? What was he trying to find?

If he truly wasn’t human, and if he really was connected to the Grand Mage from a thousand years ago—perhaps by now, he’d found some clue about the root of all this. If they’d had a closer, more cooperative relationship—maybe things could’ve turned out better. Inon had said he’d help Yuder if they ever met again.

Even though everything had already fallen apart, Yuder thought maybe it would’ve been alright if that had happened. He knew it was a pointless thing to think about, especially when he’d never fully trusted Inon to begin with.

Regret is always pointless and always too late. Even though he could now guess where Inon had gone, that very knowledge gave birth to a new regret—one that pierced his chest far more sharply than anything he’d felt before. From the moment he read Luma’s letter addressed to Inon, that regret had grown and now constricted him with overwhelming pain.

“If you still wish to protect this land, then forsake your physical body.”

He hoped he’d misunderstood the letter. But the more he thought about it, the more certain he became.

There was no other explanation for why the Inon of the previous life had never reappeared after his disappearance.

The Inon of the present had once said, in a casual tone, that the previous version of himself had probably died. He’d lived so long that he had sometimes experienced involuntary absorption and regeneration—but had he ever done so intentionally?

As far as Yuder knew... probably not.

What was the difference between willingly giving up one’s physical body and not doing so? If the Inon of the past had chosen that path, what had become of him? Had he been right beside Yuder all along, and he’d just never realized it?

“Yuder.”

A quiet, low voice spoke beside him. Before Yuder could respond, a man’s hand reached out and grasped his own. Only then did Yuder realize he’d been clenching his fists tightly. So tightly, in fact, that his hand was trembling.

“You’ll hurt your hand if you keep squeezing like that.”

“...I didn’t notice.”

“I want to ask what you read, but I’ll wait until the pharmacist has finished. That would be better.”

“...”

“But even without reading it, I do know one thing. Whatever it was... the pharmacist would definitely get angry if he saw you like this.”

Before Yuder could even ask what he meant by that—

“You’re exactly right,” came Inon’s gruff voice.