Chapter 1087

After finishing their meal, they had a brief moment of rest. Returning to the Duke’s bedroom, Kishiar let out a long breath. Yuder silently watched as the smile disappeared from the confident Duke of Peleta’s face and the expression of the Kishiar la Orr only he knew resurfaced.

The exhaustion he couldn’t show to his retainers. The honest softening of his brow.

The scent that hadn’t been reined in drifted faintly around Yuder. Watching the fragrance dissipate without clinging to him as it usually did, Yuder stepped forward and lightly perched himself on Kishiar’s lap. The scent paused, and the man lifted his head. Rather than pulling Yuder into an embrace, he stared at him for a long while before finally opening his mouth.

“...Fortunately, it seems this time passed without any damage.”

“Yes.”

“But we should probably take it as a sign that something truly serious is about to happen.”

“I believe so too.”

That’s how abnormal rifts always were, as far as Yuder knew. They appeared suddenly, caused no damage, and vanished just as quickly, only to be followed later by a massive disaster. That pattern was the most consistent trait they had. Even in ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) the South, those same precursory signs had appeared first.

“About the trade route you mentioned during the meeting earlier—could you tell me exactly what it was?”

That was an easy matter. Yuder described the northern trade route from his previous life that came to mind as he looked at the continent map. On a smaller map brought from the side office, he traced the route with his finger and shared that it had been financially backed by the Southern Nation when constructed. Kishiar’s gaze darkened.

“I see. I’ll remember that.”

Having just returned from dealing with the rift, waking from the dream, and handling everything in a whirlwind—it wasn’t clear exactly what he was feeling, but Yuder could sense that Kishiar was not at ease. He slowly reached out and placed his hand on Kishiar’s cheek. The man flinched briefly, then closed his eyes and let out a longer, deeper breath.

“Did something similar happen in the North in the previous game?”

“No. I was going to mention it anyway, but... nothing like this occurred in the events I remember.”

“I thought so. If it had, you would’ve said so earlier.”

“In the previous game, the North was the region with the fewest disasters. Especially beyond the border.”

It wasn’t that the North had been entirely free of disasters. But unlike the South or West, there had been no major events that resulted in widespread devastation—and that was what mattered.

Beyond the northern border of the Orr Empire lay cold, desolate lands with scattered lakes and islands. Among the tiny countries that existed there, some had never experienced a single disaster all the way up to Yuder’s death.

Of course, given the terrain, it was also possible that no one had noticed a disaster even if it had occurred. But Yuder often thought about those northern island nations beyond the Empire.

At any rate, disasters had begun to spread more broadly back then, regardless of the country. The peace of the North was likely only a temporary reprieve. Eventually, even those lands would have suffered great disasters. Still, if that hadn’t happened, Yuder would have liked to hide away in such a place after retirement.

‘Well... that’s assuming I’d survived long enough to retire.’

Yuder’s retirement had come in the form of death. So he never got to see whether his prediction that disasters would eventually reach the North was correct.

Even now, if he could go there, he wouldn’t. He no longer wanted to leave this land where he stood.

What mattered now was that no one could predict what might appear in the wake of this new rift. Yuder watched the man who accepted his touch without the slightest resistance and let his thoughts flow into words.

“We all expected similar things to occur after the South. And the fact that the abnormal rifts in the North were discovered so quickly is probably thanks to your preparation.”

“......”

After the South, Yuder had coldly acknowledged that the order and timing of the disasters he remembered from his past life would no longer repeat the same way. That meant the best course was to build systems that could respond swiftly whenever and wherever signs appeared.

The fact that the rift in the North had been reported so quickly suggested Kishiar had taken that discussion seriously and acted on it.

That kind of trust—things understood without having to be said—and the results it brought gave Yuder immense satisfaction and strengthened his resolve. And that was why, even though this event had caught him off guard, he no longer felt the same anxiety he had during the South’s crisis.

“I don’t believe those merchants who impersonated the Shuden Merchant Group only operated in the North. Didn’t Durney say so earlier as well? That Mick had seen others doing the same thing before.”

“Yes, he did.”

“But I’m not entirely convinced that the rift we just experienced occurred exactly when the culprits wanted it to—like it did in the South.”

“Is that because of the dream?”

As expected, Kishiar already understood what Yuder was trying to say.

“Yes. The fact that this happened right after we tried to see the memories of our previous lives through dreams... and then saw the white gloves—it doesn’t feel like a coincidence. What do you think?”

Kishiar lowered his gaze.

“I think the same. That maybe what we did stirred instability in a place that was already preparing to collapse... like dumping water and fertilizer all at once into a field that had only just been seeded.”

They couldn’t be certain what the exact cause was. But if their suspicion was right...

“We shouldn’t attempt anything like that again so lightly.”

“Agreed.”

Still, there was no denying that the dream had revealed something new. At least, it had for Yuder. He didn’t know what it had meant for Kishiar.

‘To completely become the past version of yourself in a dream... I know exactly what that feels like. Even if most of it fades upon waking, if anything lingers, someone like Kishiar could piece together far more from it.’

There was a vast difference between guessing something with your head and experiencing it firsthand. Yuder, who had dreamed countless times, knew this better than anyone.

He moved the hand on Kishiar’s cheek so the man could see him clearly and spoke firmly.

“You don’t need to tell me right now what you saw, what you thought, or what you learned through that dream.”

“......”

“To be honest, I felt guilty—like my desire to uncover the past forced you to go through something unnecessary...”

As he spoke that far, Kishiar furrowed his brows slightly, as if preparing to protest. But before he could, Yuder pressed a finger to his lips and continued.

“That’s okay too. Because you kept your promise—you said you’d find me no matter where I was, and you did. No matter what happened, I know that’s something you’ll never regret.”

“...Yuder.”

“Please remember what I said before.”

To Yuder, there was no longer any reason to distinguish between the Kishiar of his past life and the Kishiar of now. To him, there was only one person—Kishiar la Orr.

The man who loved him. The man he loved.

So no matter what Kishiar saw in the past, how it changed him, or what doubts it gave rise to—it changed nothing.

“I will save you. That’s why I’m here.”

Of course, he also intended to save the North, the Empire, the world—but that went without saying.

Some might call it foolish or overly ambitious, but Yuder wasn’t afraid. As long as Kishiar was here, there was nothing he couldn’t do.

Kishiar let out a long groan between parted lips as he stared at Yuder as though spellbound. He furrowed his brows, then, as if unable to hold back any longer, reached out and pulled Yuder into a deep embrace.

It was less a hug and more a collapse.

Yuder braced his back and held firm to avoid being toppled by the weight. Then he wrapped Kishiar in the strongest embrace he could manage.

Kishiar’s breath exploded against Yuder’s skin.

“Ah...”

The crushing weight, the meaningless voice that slipped out—it all struck Yuder’s heart like a painful blow.

“When I first heard you say those words... I didn’t understand any of it, so I couldn’t say anything in return.”

He murmured into Yuder’s arms.

“But now, it’s the opposite. I understand too much—and I don’t know what I’m supposed to say.”

“Then you don’t have to say anything.”

Because words weren’t always necessary. At Yuder’s firm reply, Kishiar gave a shaky laugh.

He obeyed, keeping his mouth closed, as if following Yuder’s command. Through the window beyond the Duke’s bedroom, the sun was rising. The two of them stayed wrapped around each other until the sea was fully bathed in morning light.

“—Duke. People have begun gathering in the meeting room. It’s time to come down.”

At last, the sound of knocking came from outside the door. A sign that their long and short moment alone had ended. The man who separated from Yuder’s arms stared at the rising sun with an unreadable look.

“Yuder.”

“Yes?”

“The white gloves... they didn’t tell me anything. They just led me to the place where your unconscious self was. Only after holding you again was I able to return to this world.”

What did that mean? Yuder had awakened directly from the dream. But the gloves had taken Kishiar to where Yuder’s unconscious form was?

Yuder blinked several times, unable to grasp the meaning, and the man curved his lips slightly, as if he'd expected the confusion.

“There’s no understanding any of this. I’ve nothing more I can say about it. But one thing I’m certain of—after waking up, I realized it.”

What was it? As Yuder watched, Kishiar spoke in a heavy voice.

“Outwardly, it looked just like me. But the aura it carried... to me, it felt more like you, after waking up.”

If it wasn’t just a delusion, that is.