Chapter 1057

The desperation of now-extinct races and that of humanity... It wasn’t something Yuder had ever considered before, but as Inon had pointed out, it seemed worth thinking about.

As Yuder sank into thought in silence, Inon furrowed his brow and opened his mouth.

“I’m just saying. Don’t take it too seriously. I wasn’t trying to say that everything you or Luma did was meaningless just because destruction seems to be creeping up again.”

“I didn’t take it that way.”

“Then what was that look for? You looked so grim I thought I might’ve hurt your feelings or something!”

“Isn’t that an overly serious reaction?”

“You little—? Then what were you thinking so hard about? Come on, spill it!”

Inon glared and shouted. Yuder slowly turned his gaze to the tree where Inon had been born and began to speak the thoughts that had been circling in his head.

“What you were saying... that maybe humans aren’t the only ones who struggled to avoid their end when destruction came. But in the end, we all know the result: none of the other races survived.”

That was why humans had paid so little attention to the extinct races. For most—including Yuder—they were little more than fossils, materials for making magic tools, or mysterious beings of legend.

“So what?”

“I was wondering why that difference exists. Were those other races wiped out solely because of the Great Cataclysm? If I could figure that out, maybe it could help me now.”

He couldn’t speak for the other races, but the fact that the soul of the last remaining spirit had stayed behind proved they had tried in their own way. Of course, what other efforts they made—he didn’t know.

“So maybe the other races tried something too. But in the end, none of them remained in this land. And now, a thousand years after the Great Cataclysm, even the humans who remained are facing crisis once more.”

The disasters and upheavals that rocked the world in his previous life had been proof of that.

Back then, people didn’t associate those disasters and crises with the Cataclysm. No—more accurately, they went out of their way not to make the connection. They acted like ignoring Yuder’s warnings would erase the tragedies altogether, but the chaos only grew worse with time.

Even now, most people couldn’t fathom—couldn’t even dream—that the Cataclysm might return. The only reason they could live in peace was because of people who believed in Yuder, and the Cavalry that fought to prevent disasters in advance.

But Yuder had no doubt that humanity had not yet escaped the threat of destruction.

Even though he had come back in time and learned that everything hadn’t happened without reason—that some inevitable hand had guided it all—that didn’t mean everything could be solved instantly just because he knew.

That was why Yuder felt all the more that he needed to learn more—about the Great Cataclysm, and the races that had already perished.

What had made the difference, in that moment of crisis, between humanity and the other races?

The legends say it was thanks to the First Emperor blessed by the gods, the Grand Mage Luma, and heroic warriors. Like the final story in the journal left by the first Duke of Ta-in—that Luma had turned back the Emperor’s time, and because he already knew what would happen, they were able to prevent destruction.

The problem was... even then, it seemed neither the First Emperor nor Luma believed they had completely prevented it. They seemed to suspect the same thing might happen again in the future—and they made preparations of their own.

Which meant turning back time wasn’t the perfect answer to avoiding destruction.

That meant something very clear for Yudrain Aile.

He, too, had returned through time for some unknown reason. And though he had prevented ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) many tragedies using his knowledge of the future, that alone wasn’t enough to solve everything.

“I should talk to the Commander about this. It’s better to try something than nothing. You gave me a useful idea—thanks.”

Inon didn’t say anything for a while. He looked at Yuder like he was seeing something very strange and unfamiliar, then let out a deep breath with a weird expression—before suddenly starting to laugh, shoulders shaking.

Why’s he laughing all of a sudden?

“...Ha. You’re seriously hilarious.”

“What is?”

“Everything. The whole situation.”

After chuckling like a deflating balloon for a while, Inon wiped his eyes and settled down.

“Hey.”

“......”

“To be honest, I was feeling kind of pathetic, you know?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I came all the way here full of big talk, and I haven’t found anything useful. It was you who found Luma’s letter.”

“That was—”

Yuder frowned and opened his mouth to speak, but Inon held up a hand to stop him.

“I was in a weird mood, starting to feel down... but then listening to you just made it all seem so absurd and stupid that it made me laugh. You’re such a weirdly positive bastard. You really never give up, do you? Even after a thousand years, I’ve never met anyone like you.”

“......”

“Maybe that’s why the ‘me from before’ tried to help you to the very end. Now, I finally get that feeling completely.”

After saying something vague, Inon stretched with a refreshed look on his face.

“Let’s search again. You help too.”

Just a while ago, he’d told him not to touch anything because it might be dangerous—but it seemed his mindset had changed.

“We already went through the wood pieces and furniture. What else are we even looking for?”

“Anything, really. You’ve got insight, don’t you? Like before—you might find something again. If not, just tell me if anything seems off.”

Anything strange, huh. Yuder rose from his seat, deep in thought, and looked around.

“So what we’re looking for now is any research record left by Grand Mage Luma—and anything else you didn’t know about, right?”

“Exactly. She did research, so she must have left something. That damn First Duke of Ta-in said it too—mages always want to record their work. At first, I figured she’d hidden it so kids like me wouldn’t find it easily, but no matter how hard I look, nothing shows up.”

“You sure she didn’t take it when she left?”

“Luma barely took anything when she left this place. Don’t you remember the First Duke’s journal? It said something similar.”

The final line from the research journal floated into Yuder’s mind.

“She left Ghilandre Hill with the scriptures... I wonder where she is now...” Something like that.

Suddenly, something tugged at him. Yuder blurted out a question.

“Inon.”

“What.”

Inon was rummaging inside the tree as he replied.

“You said Luma left while you were asleep, right?”

“Yeah, so?”

“But the First Duke’s journal says she left carrying the scriptures. How would he know that? And why did he only mention the scriptures?”

“......”

Inon’s hands stopped. He furrowed his brow in deep thought, then slowly replied.

“That guy... he might’ve come down here. After I returned from the Capital... Luma started having guests stay on the second floor instead of the basement. I was sleeping more by then, so I couldn’t keep an eye on her like I used to. Around that time... she started looking at the scriptures a lot. They stayed on her desk for ages. And after she left—they were gone. So I figured she’d taken them... but...”

Inon pressed his fingers to his temple and let out a long groan.

“Yeah. That guy’s journal... there was a part that made it sound like he actually saw Luma leaving.”

“If he met her the day she left—or just before—there had to be a reason.”

Yuder’s words made Inon’s eyes flash. He glanced around as if he’d just realized something.

“...Core magic.”

“......”

“In the West, too... and when we found the journal. That First Duke of Ta-in—his magic was all about hiding things. It was his specialty. Luma rarely borrowed other people’s magic, but... not never. If that’s the case... maybe there’s a chance!”