Chapter Text
1.
Why on earth did it end up like this?
Lying in bed, Yuder stared at the worn ceiling and couldn’t help but ask the question.
This was the third time now.
Yuder rubbed his temples, remembering the panicked expressions on his comrades’ faces just before he lost consciousness—and that rare, blank look on his face. His body had reacted before his mind could catch up. It was a shame he hadn’t been able to feel the familiar warmth anymore by then. In fact, if not for the rapid, powerful heartbeat thudding against his eardrum, he wouldn’t even have realized his head had instinctively leaned against the other’s chest.
Kishiar.
Yuder quietly spoke the name in his heart. They’d sworn to die together, yet in this second life, he was the one who left first… How must he have felt?
The Yudrein of the first life hadn’t understood what that feeling—something like anger—pressing in his chest after Kishiar’s death really was. But Yuder Ail of the second life, who had learned so much since then, knew all too well…
Closing his eyes and gritting his teeth, Yuder forced the turbulent, tangled emotions back down his throat.
…Even Enon hadn’t detected this hidden ailment.
Well, of course—Enon wasn’t all-knowing either.
Yuder sighed. It’s fine. This time, at least, he could learn to seek help in time. He couldn’t make the same mistake again.
Thinking this, Yuder pushed back the blanket.
What if he told Kishiar everything earlier in this life?
The idea suddenly surfaced in his mind. With anyone else, Yuder would clearly be dismissed as a madman. But this was Kishiar—in this life, he could choose to extend his trust first.
The amount of intelligence they’d gathered in their past life was no longer comparable to his ignorant state in the first life. And telling Kishiar earlier could prevent so many things sooner—he could also use the Red Stone’s power earlier to repair Kishiar’s vessel. And the current Emperor’s, too.
But—he realized a problem—where was Kishiar right now?
Yuder prided himself on knowing this man well enough, yet now he was stumped by a small detail he’d never paid much attention to before—because Kishiar always told him his plans, or Yuder was simply by his side.
Maybe he could find Enon first. At least Enon’s location was fixed, and he could ask him to check his physical condition while he was at it.
Right.
Just as he was about to open the door, Yuder suddenly remembered a certain red-haired man and a brown-haired girl with determined eyes—Gakaen and Kanna, too. He unconsciously tightened his grip on the doorknob.
It’s fine. He could tell Kishiar and come back later—they’d still meet. Last time he’d stayed in his room for two days, hadn’t he? Two days was enough to settle many things.
Letting out a breath, Yuder only then noticed the tension locked in his shoulders.
It seemed he really had changed a lot. The Yuder Ail of before would never have considered “companions” as an option.
Taking a deep breath, steeling his resolve, he finally pulled open the door once more.
2.
Walking through the alley in plain clothes, he arrived in front of an inconspicuous little apothecary. It felt strangely nostalgic—after Enon joined the Cavalry Corps because of him, this small shop had been shut down for good. And their connection in the first life had started right here.
Yuder pushed the door open and went straight in.
“Get out! We’re closed today!”
The screech of the door, followed by that grumpy yell—same as ever.
Hearing that shout, Yuder felt an odd flicker of satisfaction. Before the other could yell again, he spoke up.
“My name is Yuder. Enon, Luma’s Seven-Wall Guardian. I know you are obliged to cooperate with whoever calls you by that name. So I’ve come to talk.”
A man with messy gray hair practically leaped out from behind the counter.
“Wait, wait, wait!” His eyes were wide. “Who are you? How do you know that? Who told you? Strange… I definitely don’t recognize you.”
The same movements. The same words.
But this time, it wasn’t just one life ago. Yuder thought with a touch of regret. How much should I tell him? Saying I’ve been reborn once was shocking enough last time—this time it’s the second time. But if I want Enon to examine me, I probably can’t hide the truth…
“You told me yourself,” Yuder explained, walking inside as if he belonged there. “To be precise, it was the you from the first life who told me.”
“First life?” Enon’s eyes widened even further.
“Yes. I’ve been reborn. This is the second time.” Yuder casually pulled over a chair that had been left lying around and sat down. “Right now, you’re the only one who can help me.”
Enon’s jaw hung open, too stunned by the idea of reversed time to question Yuder’s familiarity.
“Hyung.”
That single word snapped Enon back. “What? What did you just say?”
He’d always called him that whenever he had something important to ask in the past, but did it slip out unconsciously just now?
Yuder had no choice but to explain, “That’s what you told me to call you before.”
Enon made a strange face at that. His furrowed brow twitched slightly, then he reached up and ruffled his own hair frantically.
“Alright! Before asking for help, shouldn’t you at least explain your situation properly, you weirdo?”
Even though he knew Enon would help him regardless, hearing those words finally let Yuder relax.
Yeah. No matter what happened in the previous lives, right now they were just strangers.
“Even though you say your soul repaired a lot in your last life, there are still many hollow spots. Eat well, sleep well, don’t push your body, and keep the red cord on properly…”
This part hadn’t changed at all either.
Yuder cut him off. “Please, Enon.”
Enon narrowed one eye, looking conflicted.
“What’s wrong?” Had he left something unclear earlier? Yuder started mentally reviewing what he’d said.
“…Why aren’t you using that form of address anymore?”
Huh?
Even though he was confused—their relationship now shouldn’t be close enough to warrant it—based on his experience from the previous life, Yuder obediently called him “hyung” again.
Enon finally seemed satisfied, his expression smoothing out as he let out a soft snort.
3.
Even after compressing the events of the previous life as much as possible, it still took a good while. In contrast, explaining the first life took up very little time—it was almost brushed over in just a few sentences.
By the time he stepped out of the alley, the streets had grown sparse. Letting out a breath, Yuder looked up at the now darkened sky.
“You can hardly see any stars in the capital.”
A voice tinged with regret suddenly spoke beside him.
That voice. Yuder would never mistake it. All those nights of close contact, the hours discussing matters in the office, the countless times of comfort and encouragement…
He turned eagerly toward the sound and was met with hair disguised as brown and a familiar face deliberately blurred by magic.
Kishiar.
He called the name in his heart, feeling as if something had been rekindled.
“My, being stared at so intently is making me a bit shy,” Kishiar said, half-joking as he covered his cheek with one hand.
Seeing the other about to continue, Yuder decided not to beat around the bush and took the initiative.
“Hello. My name is Yuder. I need to speak with you.”
When he silently mouthed the title “Duke of Pelleta,” Yuder clearly saw a subtle shift in the other’s eyes—a flash of surprise and wariness. Though hard for most to catch, five years together in his past life had made him familiar enough with the man before him.
“Well, if a handsome dark-haired young man like you says so, I’ve no reason to refuse.”
As Kishiar spoke, Yuder clearly saw him briefly clasp his left hand behind his back. Immediately, the tense gazes focused on him from the surroundings vanished.
The Pelleta Knights, I see. Yuder nodded inwardly. It made sense for a Duke to have escorts.
“Then I happen to know a place suitable for a relaxed conversation at this hour. Care to try it?” Kishiar blinked at him lightly, looking perfectly at ease.
“Fine.” If it was a place he recommended, confidentiality would at least be assured, so Yuder had no objections.
The moment the door opened, Nathan naturally took Kishiar’s coat as he removed it. Yuder wasn’t surprised.
“Ah, right, I haven’t introduced him yet. This is—”
“I know. Your loyal aide, Nathan Zukerman.”
Even cut off, Kishiar showed no displeasure—instead, he looked pleased.
“It seems my aide’s reputation isn’t as low as I thought.”
Glancing at Yuder, Nathan bowed slightly to Kishiar with respectful deference. “My lord, dinner is ready.” As he moved, the sword at his side emitted a faint clink.
Clearly, it was a warning directed at him. But Yuder chose to ignore it—and felt rather satisfied. Still as cautious as ever, Nathan.
Watching Yuder pick up his knife and fork quite naturally, Kishiar let out a soft hum.
“You seem quite accustomed to this.”
Yuder had never intended to hide anything from the start. Meeting those ruby eyes—Kishiar had dispelled his disguise magic upon entering—he nodded frankly.
“As you see.”
During the lulls in conversation, Yuder simply maintained a proper pace while eating. He knew the other was observing him, but then again, Kishiar had always liked watching him eat in their past life too, so he felt no discomfort.
“You ate the food I offered so readily—aren’t you afraid I might have slipped something into it?” Kishiar smiled. “After all, you’re someone who knows my secret.”
“Ordinary poisons don’t work on me,” Yuder replied after swallowing. “It’s related to my ability. All natural toxins are ineffective against me.”
“‘Ordinary poisons’ implies there are others that would affect you?”
“Yes. My ability doesn’t work directly on monsters.”
Hearing that, Kishiar raised an eyebrow.
“To reveal your weakness so openly… You must be very confident in your strength, Yuder.”
“It’s not just confidence in my strength.”
“Oh?” The golden-haired man looked intrigued.
Meeting the other’s gaze, Yuder set down his utensils and explained slowly, “It’s also trust in you.”
Seeing Kishiar’s eyes widen in speechlessness, Yuder felt a flicker of satisfaction rise in his chest. Kishiar usually had the upper hand in their verbal exchanges—it felt good to come out ahead for once.
“You expose my secret, then tell me your weakness, and now you say you trust me… Yuder, are you pledging your loyalty to me?”
Yuder nodded. “You could say that. But mainly, there’s a secret I must tell you.”
“Ha.” The man across from him sighed. “And now you’re teasing me.”
“If you’ve finished your meal, I can tell you now.”
“I can be patient,” he said, smiling. “A fruit is only ripe and beautiful after it’s been fully waited for.”
“Do you happen to have a tactical chess set here?” Yuder decided to use the same method he had in his past life to reveal the secret. “After all, ‘nothing tells a story better than a game of tactics.’”
“You even play tactical chess?” Given how many surprises Yuder had already shown, Kishiar didn’t press further. “Nathan.”
Soon, a hexagonal board was set on the table between them.
“I just learned it as a child.” Sixteen years ago.
“Learned as a child, yet you look quite proficient.”
“It’s not a lie.” Setting up the pieces, Yuder remembered the Kishiar from after their confession in the previous life.
Should I mention the first life this time too?
“Since it’s a secret, would you like me to have my aide step away for a while?”
Yuder glanced at Nathan. Even without expression, he could tell the other seemed somewhat unwilling—but bound by his lord’s command, he said nothing.
“That won’t be necessary.” Yuder shook his head. “If it’s your aide, then there’s nothing to worry about.”
“Oh? You trust my aide that much? So this wholehearted trust isn’t reserved just for me…”
“It’s only because he’s loyal enough to you that I believe he can keep a secret. That’s all.”
“……” Kishiar fell silent for a moment, then sighed. “What a sweet responsibility. But I’ll gladly bear it.”
“Let’s begin.”
If there’s a connection, there’s no escaping it anyway.
Yuder picked up a black piece from his side.
What followed unfolded almost exactly as it had in the previous life.
The first game, Yuder won using strategies honed through countless matches against Kishiar. The second game, Yuder took the white pieces and arranged them into the Wing Formation.
No—not entirely the same.
“The second time.” Yuder gazed at the board and spoke slowly. “Since I learned this formation, today is only the second time I’ve completed it.”
Before the other could fully recover from the shock, Yuder continued.
“As you saw, the tactics I used in the first game weren’t my own either.”
“……” Kishiar’s eyes remained fixed on the formation before him.
Of course, unlike the Captain of his past life—who had been given plenty of hints before learning the truth—the Duke of Pelleta before him now had been presented with it almost abruptly. It was only natural he’d be stunned, finding it hard to believe. But having started, Yuder had to press on.
“The person who taught me this game was you. As for saying I learned it as a child—that wasn’t a lie. It’s been sixteen years since then.”
“I am someone who has been reborn. I know it’s hard to believe. But this world is about to face an apocalyptic disaster. I am the one chosen by Luma to save it—yet my power alone isn’t enough.”
Kishiar had looked up at some point. Facing those now-deepened eyes, Yuder straightened his back and didn’t stop.
“I need your help—and your brother’s. Captain of the Cavalry Corps.”
“That is everything that will happen in the future. Of course, this time we can prevent some of it sooner.”
“Because the Captain from my past life gave me his trust without reservation, I’ve decided to offer mine first this time.”
“I will join the Cavalry Corps. We’ll meet again during the official recruitment exam.” Yuder stood up. “Whether you believe me or not, thank you for tonight’s hospitality.”
4.
Things actually ended more smoothly than he had imagined.
Just before dawn on the third day, using the wind to assist his speed, he could still make it in time to run into Gakaen.
Although explaining the events of his past life in great detail took even longer than it had with Enon, it was all worth it in the end. Now he only needed to wait until the exam was over—everything would begin anew.
Just like in his second life, Yuder accepted Gakaen’s invitation, and on their way to register, they met and helped Kanna.
He still took the exam on the third day.
Entering the examination hall, Yuder counted from left to right:
The deputy commander of the Western Imperial Knights,
The Chancellor’s assistant,
The representative mage from the Pearl Tower,
The Court Mage,
And finally—even after experiencing that unbelievable day not long ago—he had still come.
Kishiar la Orr.
The brown-haired man smiled faintly and gave a slight nod, as if in response to him.
“Candidate 423, the abilities listed in your description are rather exaggerated. Are they all true?”
He shifted his gaze. The mage from the Pearl Tower was, as always, the first to raise objections.
“You can imbue swords with fire and water? Freely control all natural elements? In all my years, I’ve never heard such absurd claims.”
That kind of sharp criticism felt oddly nostalgic.
This time, Yuder didn’t need to hide his strength, so he had filled out the registration form with his full capabilities—ever since that conversation, he’d noticed the number of applicants had increased. Clearly, someone had been working hard. This time, he also spotted some unfamiliar faces in the building, likely talents who had slipped through the cracks in his previous two lives.
Having served nearly ten years as Captain and five as Vice-Captain of the Cavalry Corps, Yuder was quite satisfied with this outcome.
“Arguing without seeing it for ourselves won’t get us anywhere, will it? Very well. If what you say is true, then show us. To convince us, you’ll need to prove it thoroughly.”
“Understood.”
Nodding, Yuder decided to start with wind.
The air in the room imperceptibly grew turbulent, gradually forming a fierce gale—but in an instant, it softened, gently lifting Yuder’s hair as if caressing a child.
Next was earth.
Though his current body didn’t hold the same immense power as before, the refined control methods were still etched into his bones. With just a slight shift—
Everyone in the room felt the floor beneath their feet tremble softly, as if responding. Though only a faint, ticklish vibration, it was enough for demonstration—not intimidation.
Then, metal.
Yuder reached out and easily caught the iron sword that answered his call. Even a training sword was unimaginably heavy for an ordinary person, yet with his not-particularly-strong arms, he held the hilt as lightly as a twig.
Finally, Yuder raised the sword’s tip. Once all the examiners’ eyes were fixed on it, with a soft sound, flames instantly engulfed the blade.
He slowly drew the sword downward—a slicing whistle through the air, sparks trailing in its wake. Ignoring the others’ intense reactions, Yuder directly altered the atmosphere around the sword.
A fierce rush of water swiftly replaced the flames, wrapping the entire blade and swirling rapidly.
The soft whisper of flowing water echoing in the room left no one daring to casually question Yuder again.
Just as before, he asked if anyone wanted to try touching the water—and sure enough, Kishiar was the one who responded.
“Candidate 423.” Just as he was about to turn and leave, a familiar voice stopped him. “We’ll meet again.”
Even this part was the same?
He had barely mentioned the exam during their conversation—no, perhaps precisely because he glossed over it, this part of the trajectory remained unchanged.
At least the meaning was different now.
Nodding, Yuder pushed open the door and walked out.
Outside, dust danced in the sunlight, glimmering with scattered light he had never noticed before.
5.
Light once again fell across the head of the bed.
Yuder lay awake, staring at the ceiling.
Where had things gone wrong this time?
He had gone to Enon for regular weekly checkups—there were no issues. Everything had been normal right up until he suddenly collapsed: the morning kiss goodbye with the Captain, training, meals…
And yet, even though he had lived healthier this time, his lifespan was even shorter—just over two years. His second life had lasted over five years… Wait.
Something struck Yuder’s mind.
How long had he lived in the first life? Thirty-one years. But what if he counted only from when he joined the Cavalry Corps? Eleven years…
The time had been shortening in a halving pattern.
If that was really the case… then in this life, wouldn’t he only have a little over a year left…?
Blinking slowly, Yuder had never imagined he would one day face the problem of dying young.
He had rarely been sick since childhood, and after awakening his abilities, even common poisons had no effect on him.
Pushing aside the inexplicable heaviness in his chest, Yuder sat up.
If he only had a year left, he couldn’t afford to waste time. He was the only one who knew what would happen in the future—he couldn’t just stand by. Even if he wouldn’t live long, Kishiar was still here. Even without him, Kishiar, now aware of what was to come, could handle the future, right?
Closing his eyes, Yuder exhaled deeply.
Same as before—find Enon first, then run into Kishiar according to the timeline.
Should he tell everything this time?
Yuder hesitated. The shortening lifespan was likely a cost of reversing time—after all, something like this had to come with a price. If it was a predetermined cost, even Enon probably couldn’t find a solution.
Maybe this time he could choose a reason to say goodbye and leave?
But could he really pull it off?
Pressing his lips together, Yuder finally stepped into the rundown little apothecary.
“Hey, you’re not hiding anything from me, are you?”
Seeing the other’s deeply suspicious gaze, Yuder sighed helplessly.
Of course not.
Enon had eyes that could see through lies—he’d known that since the first life, hadn’t he?
“You idiot!” After hearing his brief explanation, Enon didn’t hesitate to curse. “How could you hide something like this from me? If what you say is true—that Luma is your grandfather—then I really am your older brother! And I’m a physician! Who else could help you with something like this if not me?!”
Seeing Yuder silently endure his anger, Enon finally stopped. He let out a heavy sigh, and in that moment, Yuder remembered—this man was truly much older than him, even now in his fourth life.
“Alright, seeing you gives me a headache. You know what the red cord does—no need for me to explain. Take it!”
Including earlier times, this was the fourth life in which Yuder had accepted this red cord.
“Thank you, hyung.”
Hearing that address, Enon’s irritation visibly softened. “Just go already. Aren’t you going to meet that Cavalry Corps Captain or whatever?”
“Goodbye.”
In the past, he’d mostly called him that because it put Enon in a better mood. But this was his fourth life now—he had long understood the meaning carried in that word.
“Hyung.”
Clutching the cord in his pocket, Yuder watched as the other waved him off.
6.
As the conversation gradually progressed, Yuder keenly sensed the atmosphere growing unusual.
Instantly, he recalled the scenes from his first two lives when Kishiar had confessed to him—they were almost no different from now. Kishiar had always been skilled at steering situations through the art of language.
Now that he understood the intent, what the other wanted to do next was practically obvious.
“Yuder.”
Though it was just his name, the tone made it sound deeply intimate.
No.
Yuder instinctively followed the voice. When he met those ruby eyes hiding desire, his body began trembling uncontrollably. The ashes in his heart seemed to be piled up by invisible hands, struggling to reignite.
Ah, he had never forgotten—how he had been licked, melted, and utterly fused with the other when those eyes burned completely.
The soul-deep hunger he had forcibly suppressed under urgency now churned slowly in his chest. Like parched earth thirsting for rain, he longed to embrace the all-consuming sea.
Kishiar must have seen the naked desire in his eyes. He had probably guessed their past relationship long ago. Real feelings couldn’t be completely hidden—and Kishiar happened to be an expert at catching them.
When he saw the other’s satisfied smile—like a predator watching its prey finally fall into its grasp—Yuder immediately stood up.
They couldn’t continue like this.
“Yuder?”
Even though the disappointment in the other’s eyes felt like knives stabbing into his recently revived heart, Yuder was determined to leave.
They couldn’t be together. He had less than a few months left—he couldn’t give hope only to cruelly take it back.
Under the piercing gaze that felt like it could bore through his back, Yuder only left a single “I’m sorry” before pulling open the door and running away.
That day, the members in the hallway all saw Yuder Ail—who was always fearless—flee back to the dormitory as if chased by something terrifying.
7.
“So you were planning to slip away quietly all by yourself?”
“Hyung.” Yuder called softly.
Even though his voice was quiet, in the stillness of the deep night, it felt amplified many times over.
Enon snorted. “At least you remember I’m your brother. In that case, let me walk you part of the way at least.”
Yuder knew he couldn’t stop someone whose mind was made up—and from Enon’s attire, it was clear he had been waiting here specifically for him.
He sighed helplessly. “Alright. Let’s go now—”
“Where might the pharmacist and his dear assistant be heading? Would you mind taking this poor captain who’s been left in the dark along for the ride?”
When had he gotten there?
Golden hair was so strikingly bright under the moonlight.
“These past few weeks, my usually diligent assistant suddenly intensified his workload—almost several times what a normal person could handle.” Kishiar spoke calmly. “Inspected every corner of the capital alone, customized training plans based on each member’s recent condition, even wrote a detailed analysis report for everyone… and talked with me even more frequently about the distant future. It was almost as if you were preparing for an emergency. At first, I thought you were just overly anxious.”
Then he smiled bitterly. “But later I realized… in all those thorough, well-prepared plans for the future, there didn’t seem to be any place for you. Not even a little.”
Those small actions that would go unnoticed by most were, in the eyes of Kishiar—who always watched him closely—key clues to unraveling the secret.
“Yuder.” He almost sighed the name.
“I’m leaving forever.” Yuder knew there was no point in hiding anything now.
“Forever…” Whispering the word, Kishiar fell silent as if his throat had been scalded.
“I’ll leave on my own.” Before the other could speak, he continued, “Hyung, take care.”
Yuder closed his eyes, feeling as if his chest were being crushed, making it hard to breathe.
After a long pause, he finally turned his head.
“Kishiar.”
Yuder didn’t dare meet those eyes. He had to admit—whether in the first life, the second, the third, or this fourth life he was experiencing now—he had always loved this person deeply. No matter how long the ashes were deliberately forgotten in a corner, they would always reignite into fiercer flames because of him.
Perhaps this love would continue into the next life, and the next, and the next after that—until he reached the end of his life.
And so, he was also deeply afraid of him.
“Live well.”
With those words, Yuder took a few steps, caught the wind, and swiftly melted into the darkness.
8.
Now, facing Kishiar in this game of tactics, Yuder was familiar to an almost absurd degree.
To put it bluntly, perhaps he knew Kishiar’s strategies better than Kishiar himself.
Often, just a glance, a movement, the direction his eyes turned, the timing, even the subtlest shift of a facial muscle—Yuder could react with the most precise response instantly.
“This isn’t playing chess at all,” Kishiar murmured softly.
“Are you conceding?”
No, I’m not at that point yet. The familiar words overlapped with memory.
Even what the other would say was completely clear now.
Because playing two consecutive tactical games was still the best way to make Kishiar understand everything beforehand. Even with only three months left in this life, Yuder hadn’t abandoned this method.
The sixth time arranging the Wing Formation. Yuder could now tell the old story wearing a mask of complete calm—of course, he didn’t explain life by life; that would be far too inefficient. Instead, he integrated the intelligence from his previous lives.
There was no need for others to know he kept being reborn. He didn’t want to endure that pain again—the kind that felt like tearing half his flesh away.
The story, delivered like a report, finally reached its end once more.
This time, Yuder didn’t leave immediately. “Captain of the Cavalry Corps, I have a request.”
“I heard an Awakened broke into some nobles’ mansions last night and slaughtered them all,” Kishiar said, holding a report in one hand and taking a sip of tea, his tone almost conversational. “Did something like this happen in your past life?”
“No,” Yuder answered without pausing his writing, his voice flat. “I’m sorry, but it seems there’s been an unexpected development this time.”
Yes, there had indeed been an unexpected development. Time was too short. He couldn’t let Kishiar be held back too long by those foolish nobles—Kishiar should focus his attention on realizing his own ideals.
“Alright.” Kishiar didn’t press further. “What a shame.”
A shame for what? The thought flashed through Yuder’s mind like a meteor, quickly buried under other priorities.
This life, Kishiar didn’t try to confess to him again. When Yuder realized this, a contradictory mix of pain and relief exploded in his chest.
It proved his efforts to avoid all intimate contact with Kishiar were right—this life, they had no emotional entanglement.
He had specifically asked Kishiar this time to work only behind the scenes in the Cavalry Corps—unless under special circumstances, he would never appear before the public, not even before the corps members.
By maintaining such a transparent existence, he could leave the corps smoothly and in time before his time ran out.
That was what Yuder had originally thought.
“Yuder.”
“Yes, Captain.” As always, Yuder didn’t stop working.
“I saw your resignation letter.” Kishiar’s tone betrayed nothing unusual.
Yuder paused—the letter shouldn’t have been found until tonight.
“My dear assistant came to me over two months ago saying he wanted to save the world. Why is that same person suddenly talking about quitting?”
Turning, Yuder saw Kishiar holding his resignation letter, casually turning it in his hands.
“My assistant hasn’t just been dutiful during his tenure—one could even say he’s been willing to give his life for the cause.” Kishiar smiled, but there was no warmth in his eyes. “So why the sudden talk of leaving? And no reason given in the letter.” He slowly unfolded it. “Calling it a resignation letter, but what’s written inside reads more like a will—listing a pile of instructions, ending with a strange ‘Captain, please take care of yourself.’”
Yuder remained silent. The other wasn’t wrong. He had indeed written that letter with the mindset of a final testament. It was supposed to be mixed in with the documents Kishiar would review after he left tonight.
So why had it appeared now?
“That’s the truth,” Yuder couldn’t refute it. “I’m preparing to leave.”
Why did things still end up like this? Where did I go wrong?
“You’re preparing to leave,” the other repeated. “You don’t plan on coming back, do you?”
“…No.”
“Why?” Kishiar’s face was unusually expressionless. “Yuder, you know I don’t approve resignations without reason lightly. Especially not from someone as capable as you.”
9.
Leaving the Cavalry Corps alone at dawn for the third time, Yuder knew the routine well.
Even though the resignation letter was discovered early, he wouldn’t change his plan. Time would never be lenient with him—tonight was his deadline.
Even squeezing time to its limit, the work never decreased.
Especially since he only had three months this life.
Racing toward the burial site he had planned long ago, carried by the wind, Yuder couldn’t help but recall Kishiar’s expression when he finally answered, “No reason.”
His heart clenched with pain again.
Perhaps next life, he shouldn’t stay in the Cavalry Corps. Yuder thought. Maybe he should warn Kishiar and then leave, requesting contact by letter. He could help from the shadows.
Darkness began to crowd his vision. Yuder nearly crashed into a tree trunk; leaves rustled as he brushed past.
Maybe next time, he should choose a closer grave. He couldn’t just die on the road.
When Yuder finally stumbled into the coffin, his vision was completely blurred. Thankfully, his hearing still worked somewhat.
Maybe because his sense of touch was fading too, using his ability to move the lid felt almost weightless.
With a soft click as the coffin closed, his world finally fell into true silence.
10.
Ninth time.
Placing the white piece. He counted in his mind.
After finishing the story report, Yuder asked, “Duke, may I ask where you were just before I encountered you?”
“How are you injured again?!” Enon wanted nothing more than to grab this person who never took care of himself and shake some sense into him.
“There are things I must do.” Yuder watched as the other unwrapped the bandages, stained fresh with blood.
“Oh! That damned mission of yours! Luma would be so proud!” Enon couldn’t help the sarcasm.
But Yuder knew the hands working on him were gentle.
“Enon.”
“What now?”
“I’m leaving.”
Clearly not expecting this, Enon’s hands stilled for a moment. “Your wounds aren’t even healed, and you’re planning to go somewhere else?”
Yuder didn’t respond.
Enon was used to his sudden silences by now. “I heard the nobles were ‘cleansed’ by some righteous person the night before last. That was you, wasn’t it?”
“Yes.” Yuder had nothing to hide. He’d started doing this since his sixth life.
Maybe he should have started even earlier.
“Enough!” Enon pointed a finger at his nose, his tone commanding. “From now on, you rest and heal properly! You can carry out that damned mission of yours after you’re better.”
…
“Take care, Hyung.”
“Brat.” Yuder Ail slipped away under the cover of night once again. Enon knew it wasn’t the first time. “Always only daring to call me that when you’re sneaking off… Have the guts to say it in daylight…”
But he didn’t know it would be the last time.
11.
“Don’t kill me! I have money! I have power! I can give you anything you want!”
Anything I want? The black-haired man, covered in blood, paused.
Seeming to think he was wavering, the noble kept shouting, “Yes! Just let me go, and I can—”
A cold flash of light.
No matter how many times I relive this, these fools are always so noisy. With that thought, the man melted into the moonlight.
“Duke, we need to talk.” Yuder completely ignored the Pelleta Knights’ swords pointed at him. “This matter must be told to you as soon as possible.”
…
“…That is everything.” Yuder set down the towel the other had handed him earlier. If not for the faint white at the corners, one might think it was originally a red towel. Standing up, he had no intention of stopping. “I must go now, Duke.”
Still processing, Kishiar smiled. “To let a guest who came from so far away just…”
“It’s fine.” Yuder walked toward the window as he spoke. “My task was to tell you these things. It’s done.”
“Task?” The golden-haired man raised an eyebrow.
“Yes. Someone will be responsible for sending you letters afterward—the Seven-Wall Guardian of Luma, Enon.” Yuder paused. “I hope you can trust him when the time comes.”
12.
His eyes snapped open. Yuder practically leaped out of bed, packing his things while his mind raced.
No time to deal with the nobles now. No time to write letters either. Have to find Kishiar first, then have him find Enon himself.
Need to summarize past events more concisely this time.
“That is everything. I must go, Duke.”
He’d barely taken a step when his vision swam, nearly causing him to stumble into the tea table.
“It seems my guest’s health is somewhat lacking. Shall I prepare a physician for you?”
“No.” Staring at the dark spots expanding in his vision, Yuder spoke to the other’s shocked face. “If possible, please prepare a coffin for me. I am about to die.”
13.
Which time was this? If only minutes were left, it should be… never mind.
If he died here in the inn, Gakaen would probably be shocked.
The corner of his mouth twitched. Yuder thought of Kanna.
Seems I can’t save her this time…
If Enon weren’t bothered by him, he’d probably live out his life in that little apothecary…
I’ve troubled him every single life.
Lying in bed, countless similar yet different faces floated through Yuder’s mind.
His body felt so cold.
…How strange. He’d never felt cold the first ten or so times.
And this time, he even had a blanket.
He turned onto his side.
In his darkening vision, he saw a blurred, golden light slanting through a gap in the window, spilling onto the pillow beside him.
He stared at that gold for a while, then with great effort, moved his body. Gasping, he gently pressed his forehead against the edge of the warmth.
Kishiar…
With a faint smile, he finally allowed his eyes to close.