Chapter 1083

Watching a past version of himself from a step behind was strange in more ways than one. And it wasn’t the kind of strangeness that felt positive.

Yuder saw the version of himself from that day—standing before Kishiar to kill him. He looked far too sloppy to be an assassin. He failed to hide his emotions, showed no trace of composure, and reacted to every word Kishiar spoke with such visible tension that even Yuder himself was dumbfounded.

Had Kishiar decided to counterattack, he probably could have killed Yuder and driven him off without even trying very hard.

But stepping back now gave him a new view of Kishiar as well. Though Kishiar clearly noticed Yuder’s weaknesses, he had chosen to ignore them. He focused all his energy instead on maintaining an illusion of calm, pretending his body was just fine.

In his past life, Yuder had been so used to Kishiar’s tired face and erratic behavior that he never realized it. But now, he could see all too clearly what kind of effort Kishiar had been making.

Those unstable, dark eyes. The dry lips stifling a quiet cough, as if suppressing something. The man looked uninterested in anything, even indifferent to the one who’d come to kill him—but his gaze never left Yuder.

If Yuder hadn’t known the healthy, open Kishiar of the present, he wouldn’t have noticed those tiny signs.

Honestly, watching it all in silence was painful. And yet he endured for one reason only: because he was finally seeing moments of the past he couldn’t remember.

If he hadn’t seen something that didn’t match his memories, he would’ve kept watching to the end.

But just before Kishiar used his power to push away the connection, a faint emotion flickered in his eyes. Until then, he’d treated the assassin before him without a single crack in his demeanor. But then, for the first time, a warmth appeared.

A fragment of an emotion that might be called worry, or even concern.

As far as Yuder remembered, Kishiar in his previous life had never shown such a thing.

But wasn’t there someone for whom that kind of warmth was completely natural?

It was none other than the Kishiar of the present. His mind might not be sure—but his heart knew. That gaze belonged to someone who wasn’t supposed to be here. For a moment, his heart pounded hard.

‘No way.’

He remembered the man who’d vowed to follow him no matter what, even into his dreams.

He hadn’t understood why, this time, he was watching the scene from such a distant perspective—but if Kishiar had followed him in, and that changed something...

Until now, it had always been Yuder alone who dreamed of his past life, with Kishiar either watching along or joining in to pull him out. But hadn’t they already learned that there were no clear rules to this strange phenomenon?

‘No.’

This dream ended with Kishiar’s death.

Yuder had come this far because he wanted to see lost memories—but not to watch Kishiar go through that pain again!

And just like that, cracks began forming around him. The people in the dream continued to speak the same words they had on that day, unaware of anything. But even they now looked like broken, distorted puppets. As if the dream was shattering the moment he realized it was a dream, the world quickly lost its color.

Yuder rushed toward Kishiar, calling out to him.

Just like Kishiar had done in his dreams, Yuder’s shout—thankfully—reached him. Kishiar’s eyes suddenly trembled with a strong reaction, and then the world broke apart entirely.

A pain he didn’t remember. A confusion he’d never known.

The {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} howl of Yudrain Aile—like a wounded beast—rang out.

And as all of it blurred and collapsed, Yuder felt himself get hurled away from where he stood—and lost consciousness.

“...Hah.”

He gasped as his eyes flew open—and met a pair of crimson eyes staring at him, arms tightly wrapped around him.

“...”

They looked exactly the same as when he’d fallen asleep—just before dozing off—yet somehow, the gaze felt like decades had passed.

Those eyes were still trapped between dream and reality, past and present.

But Yuder could tell even without a word.

That dream hadn’t been his.

Before Kishiar could speak, Yuder instinctively reached up and pulled his head into an embrace. It just felt like the right thing to do. Kishiar, who had been about to say something, simply exhaled and let himself be held.

Two fast-beating hearts slowly calmed, returning to their usual pace. Yuder continued to hold him, gently stroking his hair. Compared to what Kishiar had once done for him, it was clumsy and awkward—but still, he didn’t stop.

“...Did you hear me call you?”

The man buried in Yuder’s arms slowly nodded. Yuder closed his eyes tightly and clenched his jaw.

“I thought I was the first one to fall asleep... I don’t know how this happened. But still... I’m glad you woke up quickly.”

“...”

“Are you all right? Can you tell me what happened?”

Finally, Kishiar lifted his head and stared at Yuder like he was someone he hadn’t seen in years. A faint, dry smile formed on his lips.

And at the same time, Yuder was overwhelmed by the flood of Kishiar’s scent, like a locked door suddenly flung open and drowning the space.

One thing came through loud and clear from that scent.

A sorrow so deep, it was suffocating.

Kishiar parted his lips and whispered.

“I don’t fully understand why either... but that was definitely part of a nightmare I’ve been having. The moment I opened my eyes, everything I’d experienced in that dream vanished like a forbidden light.”

Just as Yuder had suspected—it hadn’t been his dream. So he wasn’t surprised. Kishiar had had countless nightmares, most of which he couldn’t remember afterward. Hadn’t there even been a time when, dreaming, he called Yuder “Yudrain,” just like in his past life?

‘Falling asleep while still connected... maybe that caused the dreams to overlap like this.’

Yuder glanced toward the golden threads still faintly drifting around them. Kishiar continued.

“The only reason any of it still remains... is probably because of this connection. I think I finally understand why I couldn’t grab hold of anything before.”

He paused for a moment.

Then said something completely unexpected.

“I saw a hand wearing white gloves.”

“...What?”

“Judging by your reaction, you didn’t see it.”

“What are you talking abou—”

Before he could finish, a loud commotion rose from outside. A chill ran down Yuder’s spine. He turned his head sharply. Kishiar’s face shifted as he opened and closed his eyes.

It was no longer the face of a man trying to calm the sorrow in Yuder’s arms. It was the face of the Duke of Peleta, Commander of the Cavalry—Kishiar la Orr. He summoned his Swordmaster senses instantly and repeated the voices he heard from far away.

“I hear something. They’re calling the knights. Something’s appeared in the sky outside...”

“...”

“...A strange rift that won’t disappear.”

A rift.

Realization struck like lightning, washing away all remnants of the dream.

They sprang to their feet.

“You said you saw white gloves. Like in the dream I told you about—did you see inside the rift?”

“I didn’t see the strange beings you mentioned from the South. So I can’t say for sure where it was... but seeing that hand is probably enough to confirm what this is.”

White gloves appearing in dreams—always before or after a rift formed.

Yuder nodded heavily, the pieces falling into place. Without another word, they dressed quickly and headed out.

“Duke. You were inside.”

Soon after, Enk appeared. Her face was as emotionless as always, and she bowed politely before speaking.

“I assumed you’d noticed the commotion by now. A strange rift has appeared between the Peleta village administration office and the plaza. And just moments ago, emergency support requests came in simultaneously from several nearby villages.”