Chapter 1245

It was just a gust of wind blocking his throat—yet the mental shock hit like a blow to a vital point.

“Gahk! Cough! Cough!”

Kiole clutched his throat, tearing up and coughing loudly. It was quite the racket, but Yuder had skillfully erected a barrier of wind around them—no one outside could hear the noise.

“It didn’t even hurt. Quit whining.”

“Just because it doesn’t hurt doesn’t mean it’s nothing!”

“True. It’s not nothing.”

Yuder casually agreed.

“I only tapped your throat this time. But if I did it properly, I could inject wind into your chest and kill you outright.”

It had to be a joke. But Yuder’s expression showed no hint of menace or humor. Just calm, matter-of-fact honesty—far scarier than someone waving a weapon in your face.

Swallowing the chill running down his spine, Kiole straightened up quickly. What had he been thinking, feeling relieved at the sight of Yuder? He must have gone mad.

Yuder tilted his head, studying the idiot face of someone who was clearly already regretting calling him.

“So, what happened that made you call me?”

“T-That’s...”

He’d written the letter because he couldn’t think of anyone else—but now that the terrifying man was sitting in front of him again, he suddenly wasn’t sure if he should share everything. And even if he did... how much was safe to say?

While he struggled to get his stalled brain moving, Yuder’s usual efficient brand of pressure lit a fire under him.

“If you don’t /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ start talking by the time I count to three, I’m leaving.”

“W-What?! What happened to compassion and knightly chivalry when someone in distress asks for help?!”

“Chivalry? Sure, I’ve been knighted, but I’m not a knight. And compassion... Do I seem like someone who has that?”

His voice was so flat, so genuinely curious, it struck more fear into Kiole than outright threats ever could.

“One of the things I hate most is wasting time. I had important training to conduct today, but your letter made me carve out this visit. If you’re not going to talk, contact me again when you’re ready.”

Yuder really stood up. Kiole panicked.

“I’ll talk! I’ll talk, okay?!”

Eyes squeezed shut, voice lowered to a whisper, Kiole began to blurt everything out in a rush.

“After the trial, people kept asking me what House Diarca’s intentions were, and I have no idea! My brother’s been ominously silent! I remembered you told me to look into him, so I met the steward—and then, apparently, Father woke up! I went to see him, and—get this—he told me to kill my brother! He gave me dangerous stuff, too! I think he’s still not all there! He even called out Mom’s name! And the steward was saying all this complicated stuff I didn’t understand, and I just—I feel like my head’s going to explode!”

A rambling scream. Anyone else would’ve called it nonsense, but Yuder’s eyes briefly glinted with a flicker of something sharp.

So that’s why the Sun Palace suddenly sent a message.

Yuder had originally planned to begin Melvern’s first training session the moment he recovered. What stopped him was a messenger bird that had flown secretly into the Cavalry Commander’s office from the Sun Palace.

Kishiar had opened the coded message tied to its leg and declared that it came from the Emperor himself. The contents were simple:

“Baron Aile is to meet the sender of yesterday’s letter immediately.”

It seemed the Emperor’s web of informants had picked up something. So Yuder adjusted his plans and came to meet Kiole earlier than intended.

And now, hearing the babble of a fool who didn’t know how to keep secrets, Yuder understood perfectly why the Emperor had given such a directive.

“The Duke of Diarca woke up—and even gave something to Kiole.”

The Emperor might not be all-knowing, but he was sharp. With security around the Duke tighter than ever, gathering direct intel must have become difficult. He’d probably learned that Kiole had visited but not the details—thus sending Yuder instead.

And that choice was, indeed, correct.

Kiole, still swimming in fear and confusion, had never been more honest or transparent.

Yuder sat back down. Relief spread across Kiole’s face—a look common among Cavalry members who saw Yuder appear in the middle of some desperate moment.

That idiot really thinks I’m here to help him.

Technically, it was Kiole who was bound to help Yuder, as per the terms of their contract. But Yuder didn’t bother bringing that up.

Because within Kiole’s relief-stricken expression, he could clearly see genuine fear and fatigue—something new. Still an idiot, yes, but an idiot who had, for once, been thinking.

And oddly, that amused Yuder.

There’s no way the Duke of Diarca or those around him ever imagined this outcome when they handed Kiole the reins.

From Yuder Aile’s perspective, it was baffling—but the world was consistently misjudging Kiole la Diarca in whatever way best suited their needs. The funniest part was that Kiole himself had no idea what situation he was in.

Well, I didn’t expect this when I first met him either, so I guess we’re even.

Kiole’s existence had exposed the terrifying truth—that all those lofty, powerful enemies were just fools barking at shadows. The absurdity and thrill of that realization likely struck Kishiar and Emperor Keillusa even harder than it did Yuder.

He was beginning to understand why the Emperor treated Kiole so indulgently.

Suppressing the urge to laugh, Yuder asked slowly,

“...So. Do you understand now what your brother stood to gain by killing you?”

A more ordinary person might’ve asked, “What did the Duke give you?” But that didn’t matter to Yuder.

If the Duke was too weak to move and chose Kiole as his piece to counter Kironne, then naturally he’d equip him with whatever was needed—like proof of succession or the right to wield House Diarca’s power.

Yuder wasn’t interested in asking obvious questions that would only frighten Kiole again. He was more curious about the tiny seed of change he’d glimpsed. Those only showed themselves in moments like this.

Kiole’s eyes trembled. He chewed his lip, then finally forced himself to answer.

“I’m not totally sure... but I think... maybe it’s because Father... overestimated me? Too much? So my brother... tried to kill me to... uh... secure his position as successor... I think?”

If it hadn’t been Yuder Aile sitting there, someone else might’ve clapped at that answer.

It wasn’t just the Duke’s change in attitude—public opinion had shifted too. That likely played a role. Still, I’ll accept that answer.

But... did this fool still not realize it?

Why was he trailing off, glancing around nervously?

Without revealing his thoughts, Yuder asked again.

“Then what do you want to do?”

“...Huh?”

“Do you plan to kill your brother as your father ordered?”

Kiole flinched like he’d been struck by lightning.

“You can’t just say something like that so loudly in public!”

You’re only now worried about that?

Yuder barely held back the urge to shove another wind ball down his throat.

“I already made sure no one can hear us. Just shut up and answer.”

If Kiole tried to ask How was I supposed to know? again, Yuder really was going to hit him this time.

But to his surprise, after burying his face in his hands and groaning for a while, Kiole actually produced a reasonable answer.

“...It’s not about killing or not killing!”

“Then what?”

“I... I think this whole situation is just wrong. Father ordered me to kill my brother and others so easily... and told me to put Diarca first, but he doesn’t seem like someone who means that at all!”

I’m scared.

The last part was so faint, even someone like Yuder barely caught it.