Chapter 1079

When Kishiar spoke, even though it was about the same events, they somehow felt like entirely different ones.

For me, what mattered most was the fact that it had been something I couldn’t remember before... and the content of what Kishiar had said.

“Shall we move on?”

They continued to organize the events that occurred before and after each of Yuder’s dreams.

The dream he had when the pain in his hand, caused by the Red Stone, made him wonder if it was a sign of his Second Gender awakening.

The dream he had while unconscious, after the actual Second Gender awakening.

The one he dreamt after receiving information from Tais Yulman about the power of the Red Stone’s medium and discussing the upcoming Western mission.

The dream after returning from helping the Western Alliance mages of Mikallin—after visiting what they called the “Spring of Mana.”

The one he had while severely injured after facing Petuamet...

They skimmed through the content of each dream, which Yuder already knew well, focusing instead on the circumstances leading up to and following them. Trying to recall even the tiniest details he once considered unimportant made his head throb.

By the time they finished compiling everything up to the most recent dream in the South, Yuder felt as if they’d accomplished something monumental—despite having done nothing but talk.

I really have dreamed a lot, haven’t I.

There had been no miraculous revelation—no sudden discovery of some hidden truth. But at least, with someone else’s perspective, Yuder had revisited those events from angles he hadn’t seen before. And through that, he was able to identify certain tendencies.

Kishiar was particularly adept at this.

“It seems you often dreamed about past events from the previous game before something similar happened in this one. And though you believed you remembered the dream’s content, a lot of it was actually uncertain.”

“Yes.”

“And the dreams occurred more frequently when you were injured, in poor health, or emotionally shaken. To borrow your pharmacist’s terminology, perhaps it happened when your ‘soul’ was disturbed.”

“That sounds reasonable.”

Even if Inon had been there, he likely would’ve said the same. Though they hadn’t spoken much, Kishiar had somehow grasped Inon’s knowledge even better than Yuder himself.

“If we consider the fact that the dreams began after you were wounded by the Red Stone, then we could say all of /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ this began the moment that power entered your body.”

Kishiar murmured, his expression thoughtful, then quietly gazed at Yuder’s face. Yuder could only guess at how many ideas were flashing behind those crimson eyes in the dark.

After a pause, Kishiar whispered lowly.

“Honestly, what comes to mind first is... it all comes back to the Red Stone, doesn’t it?”

“...”

Yuder looked at the hand resting on Kishiar’s chest. Stripped of its glove, his skin was bare—traced with deep, dark-red marks branching out like veins.

Those markings were the very embodiment of the Red Stone’s pure power.

When it first appeared on Yuder’s body, it had looked like a simple blotch. But after soaking into his bloodstream, it now looked like this.

Since that day in the South—when he faced the hailstorm and made “the choice”—the mark no longer existed only on his arm. Now, it had spread to his torso. Though it couldn’t be seen now, with him lying on Kishiar’s chest, it radiated outward from around his navel in the same vein-like patterns. It had been quite some time since he stopped taking off his shirt in front of others.

The current version of the mark expanded and contracted subtly with each breath, pulsing like a living thing. It looked like something cursed—far from anything he would want to show someone.

Yuder knew from experience that when he used his power, the mark would surge outward. But if he didn’t, it would settle back to its current size. With normal use, it didn’t go beyond his shoulders. But if he pushed himself and released a large amount of power at once, it could spread nearly across his entire body.

Still, unlike before, it no longer bothered him. The reason was simple.

It no longer hurt.

Back then, even the slightest spread of the mark caused intense pain. But now, it expands and contracts without any discomfort—there’s no longer any need for divine healing.

The last time it had hurt was that day in the hailstorm. The day of his “choice.”

Back then, he could feel a sharp, stinging pain as the mark spread—enough to predict roughly how far it had reached across his body. It was through that sensory extension that he realized, in that moment of agony, that it was about to surge past his abdomen—where the mark had never gone before.

Beneath the stomach lies the mana hole, the core where an Awakener’s power is concentrated. What would happen if the Red Stone’s power infiltrated that?

He had no idea. But he hadn’t had time to dwell on it.

Even if he’d had more time, there would’ve been no clear answer. So Yuder had allowed it to cross the threshold.

And because of that choice, in the final moment, he’d been able to draw out power he thought was long depleted.

Afterward, Inon would always click his tongue and curse whenever he saw Yuder’s stomach. But even he had to admit Yuder’s physical condition had improved since then.

Using my powers became easier, and I recovered more quickly—it was only natural.

Thanks to that, Kishiar, who had been the first to notice the decision Yuder had made and to worry for him, hadn’t said much since.

The Red Stone’s power—granting Yuder the strength to surpass his limits in times of crisis.

Compared to the results it had delivered, what was a little crawling mark on his body?

And now, Kishiar seemed to think that same Red Stone power might have played a part in filling the holes in Yuder’s soul—and in the dreams he’d seen.

“We don’t understand the Red Stone well enough to draw any firm conclusions. But... it strikes me that such an overwhelming, divine, all-powerful force now rests safely inside you, while in the previous game... it did not.”

Yes. That power had shattered Kishiar.

He was avoiding the details, likely for Yuder’s sake. As Yuder silently nodded, Kishiar continued.

“But what if, even in the previous game, fragments of that power remained with the one who was destroyed by it? Like how, in a water fight, even if you’re not hit directly, colored water still clings to you.”

To describe the tragedy of his previous life’s death with a metaphor about a child’s water game... Yuder almost laughed aloud at the absurdity.

“...That’s quite the childish metaphor.”

“I thought something lighthearted and cute might be better than something too grim.”

Kishiar blinked with an exaggerated innocence. It was obviously an act—and yet it worked. Clearly, Yuder Aile’s mind had long since gone mad for this man.

“...Right. Fine. Let’s go with that. So, what exactly did you mean—what do you think was done with the water that remained?”

“I’m saying it’s possible that, whether consciously or unconsciously, it affected something. Based on what you’ve experienced so far, that power reacts strongly to will—not only influencing ability, but also the body, the soul... even unconscious memories.”

“...So you’re saying that the ‘white gloves’—that presence inside the rift—might possess some amount of the same Red Stone power I do... and can move it?”

The thought made his head spin.

“Well, it’s just speculation. We don’t know anything for sure yet.”

Kishiar, answering lightly, wrapped his arm behind Yuder and sat up with him.

“In any case, here’s what I’m trying to say: if you truly want to recall that final memory that won’t come, maybe it’s worth trying to create conditions that’ll activate that power to its fullest.”

“By ‘activate it to the fullest through experience’... do you mean I should try using my powers here?”

Yuder asked seriously, but Kishiar burst into laughter.

“That might help too, but... I was thinking more along the lines of activating the imprint—and then falling asleep here.”