Turning-Chapter 865

"How is your body feeling?"

"Strangely... the pain has subsided remarkably. I've never had painkillers work on internal pain before. It's curious."

Kishiar, with an emotionless expression, calmly reported his condition.

"May I ask what kind of herbs you used?"

"It's a mix of things I can and can't talk about, so I’d rather not say."

"I figured as much. I suspected something when I realized the medicine you gave me was different."

At those words, Inon's hands—which had been moving nonstop during their conversation—paused for a moment.

"...All the pills came from the same case. How could you tell?"

"Even if they look identical and are stored together, you can't completely hide the scent if the ingredients differ. Especially when there's a trace of mana mixed in."

The last part was spoken quietly, low enough that only Inon could hear. Kishiar tilted his head slightly, continuing without pause.

"It's true that the best way to conceal a special card is to hide it among similar ones. But even so, that’s quite a particular method for differentiating. Honestly, it was so precise that it caught me off guard."

Inon’s golden eyes narrowed—partly in disbelief, partly in irritation, and partly in admiration.

"Heh... The brat who handles that medicine with me every day didn’t even notice, yet you figure it out after one dose? If you’d been born five hundred years earlier, you could’ve ruled the world as an archmage."

"I’ve heard that a few times."

Kishiar nodded slightly, without a smile.

"But someone wise like you knows that just being sensitive to mana doesn’t automatically make one a good mage, right? Magic is difficult. It’s harsh on the body. Even if I’d been born then, I wouldn’t have become a mage."

"......."

"Don’t worry. The truth is, unless you noticed the difference between my dose and Yuder’s despite them coming from the same bottle, you wouldn't have realized there was mana in them. If I could barely catch it, no one else ever will."

Yuder had spoken often enough about how Kishiar wasn’t ordinary. But seeing that ability firsthand like this—even someone as experienced ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) as Inon couldn’t help but feel slightly taken aback.

Even in the days when Awakeners were more common, Inon had never seen someone with so many abilities, who could use them all so organically—and stay sane. Not since the day he came into being and began to observe the world alone.

With only a small clue, Kishiar had not only deduced the medicine’s hidden nature—something invisible to the eye—but also uncovered Inon's intent behind it, and then responded with a perfect answer. From the other side of the conversation, he was the worst kind of person to deal with—sharp, thorough, and endlessly aggravating.

‘So basically... he’s saying, “Yeah, I know you mixed something in, but I trust you and took it anyway—so it’s fine. I get it.”’

If someone else had heard this, it might not have sounded unusual coming from a high-ranking officer speaking to a mere Cavalry pharmacist. But if you listened carefully, there was something subtle—intended only for Inon—that came through in his tone and word choice.

It sounded like condescension, but it wasn’t truly that. His eyes, his attitude—something was slightly off from how you’d treat a subordinate. Kishiar clearly understood that Inon wasn’t an ordinary person. He respected that line, and didn’t cross it.

‘His body’s half-ruined, and he still has the clarity to do this? He’s completely nuts.’

Of course, if we’re measuring “nuts,” no one could outdo the guy passed out under Inon’s hands right now. But Kishiar certainly gave him a run for his money.

They say people are drawn to those who resemble them. That old saying had never rung truer. Whether it was Yuder, lying there shattered after sacrificing himself in battle, or Kishiar, who might not look as beaten but was clearly hiding just as much internal wreckage—they were both just... exhausting.

Inon stared quietly at a man who, if he were anyone else, would’ve been long dead or screaming on the floor in madness. And yet, even now, as they talked, Kishiar’s gaze never strayed from Yuder. His words and thoughts might have been focused elsewhere, but his eyes spoke only one truth.

That eased Inon’s fury just a little. Very little.

‘Damn it. I’m a fool for getting emotionally attached.’

Inon turned his head abruptly and spoke.

"You probably already figured this out, but the pill you just took is nothing more than a temporary painkiller. We can’t do anything more in this state, so don’t use your energy. Don’t move—not even a finger, unless you absolutely must. I’ll give you two more. Take them if the pain gets worse."

Kishiar accepted the pills, looked at them, and nodded.

"Understood. Just having the pain ease this much already feels like a miracle. I won’t ask for more. However..."

For the first time, Kishiar trailed off mid-sentence. Inon asked gruffly:

"However—what?"

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

"...That thing. The one that’s spread through Yuder’s body. Do you think it can be cured?"

"......."

Inon turned his gaze toward Yuder, still lying still, heat radiating from his body. Without needing to say it outright, they both knew what “that thing” meant—the power absorbed from the Red Stone, which had spread through his bloodstream as dark red, almost black veins.

Even Inon rarely dared to speculate on it.

It was the raw, undiluted energy of the Red Stone. And yet, Yuder had absorbed it into his body... survived it... and even learned to wield it.

"It flares up whenever Yuder uses his Awakener powers. Usually, it stays in the same areas, then fades over time. But if he goes beyond his normal limits—hits some kind of wall—it spreads farther than usual."

"......."

"I've watched it many times. I came to believe it was Yuder’s own kind of... ‘choice.’ He knows it will hurt him. He knows the price. But he breaks through anyway, every time—choosing the pain, letting ‘that thing’ spread. And in doing so, he taps into power that would otherwise be impossible."

Inon’s eyes twitched slightly at those words.

"Tell me more."

"Earlier, when he had to finish off Hosanra... Yuder had nothing left. No energy for offense, not even enough to defend himself. And yet—"

A sudden burst of flame erupted from his sword, and Yuder pierced through Hosanra with that power. At the same time, the black veins surged through his body more widely than ever before—covering him almost entirely.

Kishiar had been the closest witness. No one else could have understood it as deeply as he had—not like Yuder himself, perhaps, but close enough.

There should’ve been nothing left in him. No power. And yet, he broke through. So where did that strength come from? The answer lay in the black veins that now covered him.

Kishiar, having finished explaining, looked at Inon.

"When everything was over, I asked him: did you choose that?"

Inon crossed his arms and looked down at Yuder before replying.

"So, what did the bastard say?"

"...He said yes."

"......."

A cold silence passed between them.

"...Hah."

Inon ran a hand through his hair and exhaled sharply. The sigh, heavy with irritation and rage, also carried an undeniable trace of anguish.

"This idiot... What the hell... What were the rest of you even doing while he—"

"I was one of the reasons he made that choice. I have nothing to say in my defense."

"...Ugh!" frёeweɓηovel.coɱ

Inon clenched his fist, trembling in frustration at Kishiar’s blunt admission of guilt.

"This isn’t the time to be pointing fingers, so let’s just skip that. Okay?"

"......."

"Haa... If that bastard were awake, I’d smack his head ten times already. But since I can’t, I’ll let it go. Anyway—look. I can’t say for certain whether this thing spreading through him will get better."

At those definitive words, the red light in Kishiar’s lone eye dimmed.

"In that case..."

"But that doesn’t mean he’s going to die. You’ve seen him—this isn’t the first time he’s come back from the brink. And you, of all people, should know that best."