“It seems like the perfect chance for Your Highness to show me what kind of trust you seek—and what kind of new era you wish to create.”

Come to think of it, hadn’t Yuder said something similar once before?

He tilted his head slightly, exhaling softly as Kachian’s pale, rage-contorted face blurred and overlapped with the bloodied face of Naham.

...Right. It was him.

Naham, whose brain had been warped by the Sage and the Star of Nagran, had dreamed of a new world where only Awakeners could live in happiness. But it was a distorted goal—one that held no understanding of what an Awakener truly was. When Yuder had asked him a pointed question that exposed the hollowness of that dream, Naham had been left speechless.

And Kachian... was no different.

Yuder had heard it all before—Kachian, in both this life and the last, endlessly spouting lofty claims about building a new world, erasing the remnants of the old royal bloodline.

But in the end, what had truly come of it?

Though the natural disasters that plagued his reign weren’t all his fault, he made no effort to overcome them. Instead, he grew increasingly self-centered, burying himself deeper in his own shell. Even up until the day Yuder died, he had never once been able to discern what Kachian’s supposed “new world” actually meant.

There were always plenty of people claiming they wanted a new world. But so few could articulate what that truly meant. Most had no idea what they wanted, what their vision entailed, or whether their words even made sense. Their rhetoric was no more than hollow echoes—like shouting into a mountain and hearing one’s own voice bounce back.

While Yuder was lost in memory, Kachian finally opened his mouth again, his eyes dark and sunken.

“...Fine. I suppose I’ll find out once I verify the truth myself. Just how far your arrogant claims hold up. And then—”

Yuder was curious what would follow, but Kachian trailed off. Then, all at once, he spun around in a huff—and crashed directly into a figure that had emerged from the shadows. With a yelp, Kachian tumbled backward and landed flat on his rear.

“Ugh! Who—?!”

“My, my. I came through the shortcut, looking for my aide who said he’d fetch the carriage... but imagine my surprise to find someone else blocking the exit first.”

Stepping from the shadows between the dark stone walls was none other than Kishiar. The moment his gaze met Yuder’s, he simply smiled and raised a hand in casual greeting—as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Somehow, his presence alone seemed to cast light over the surrounding gloom.

Unlike the warm ease he showed Yuder, Kishiar gazed at the fallen Crown Prince with just the faintest curl of his lips.

“That’s quite the distance you’ve covered for an evening stroll.”

“......”

Kachian flushed red with shame. His eyes, fixed on Kishiar, brimmed with confusion, wariness, and rage. But he forced a smile to his lips nonetheless.

“I have every right to walk the grounds where I reside. Is there a problem with that, «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» Duke?”

“None at all. I, too, happen to be out walking the same path. No reason to assume otherwise.”

“Then please, step aside.”

“As you wish.”

Kishiar did not extend a hand to help the man who had fallen. Instead, he simply took one step to the side. Kachian tried to rise, forcing a composed expression onto his face.

But... oddly enough, he couldn’t. 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑛𝘰𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝒸𝑜𝘮

No matter how many times he tried to get up, his limbs flailed awkwardly, searching for strength that wasn’t there. His movements were misaligned, his efforts in vain. By the time he’d struggled through several attempts, his garments were caked in dirt, and his face twisted in humiliation.

“D-Damn...!”

Shaking with frustration, Kachian clutched at his legs and looked up at Kishiar.

“Duke Peleta...!”

It was obvious he had done something. Kachian was about to scream at him to stop playing these foul games—

—but he couldn’t. Because the moment he looked into Kishiar’s eyes, all thought vanished like a candle snuffed out in the dark.

Kishiar hadn’t even approached. He stood exactly where he had first appeared, simply looking down at Kachian.

From Kachian’s angle, the massive figure blocked even the light of the moon and stars. Kishiar’s face was obscured in shadow.

But from within that darkness, two crimson eyes glowed faintly—cold, emotionless, heavy. Reflecting the dim light like bloodied glass.

And at that moment, Kachian’s body froze.

A chill swept over him, breath catching in his throat, limbs trembling. As if he stood face to face with something utterly unknowable... something terrifying beyond words.

His flesh, his soul, his instincts—everything screamed in unison:

Do not face this. Turn back. Run.

Ah...!

As Kachian remained frozen, Kishiar tilted his head ever so slightly and spoke.

“You seem quite shaken. Did I startle you that much? Shall I lend a hand?”

It was only then that Kachian gasped—finally breaking free from the invisible bind that had crushed his breath. His shoulders shook, and he avoided Kishiar’s gaze, cold sweat dripping from his face.

“I... I don’t need help. I can... stand on my own. Don’t... touch me!”

His voice, once feigning composure, cracked into jagged shards. He had no idea why he felt this way—why his body reacted so violently.

Why?

Confusion. Fear. Dread. Doubt.

All of it swirled within him as Kishiar replied, calm as ever.

“As you wish.”

He stepped back with flawless grace. Only then did Kachian manage to rise—just barely. His hand slipped against the wall for support, and his legs trembled slightly beneath him. Still, he began to walk, desperate to leave this place.

But he didn’t make it far. Again, his knees buckled.

Watching him stagger, Kishiar asked once more:

“Perhaps it would be wise to call an attendant? You declined my hand, but at this rate, walking alone may prove... difficult.”

Grinding his teeth, Kachian turned his head with a venomous glare. He spoke slowly, each word seething with restrained rage.

“You know exactly why I can’t stand, yet you pretend ignorance. Whatever trick you used—if it’s discovered you employed sorcery within the Imperial Palace, not even a duke will be spared!”

Kishiar widened his eyes slightly, as if feigning surprise—but then, he simply relaxed his brow and offered a radiant, unbothered smile.

His lips, tinted like flower petals, parted smoothly.

“Ah... sorcery within the palace grounds. That reminds me—wasn’t it Your Highness who promised to take responsibility for such investigations? I recall it clearly.”

Kachian’s face turned an icy shade of blue.

With a single sentence, Kishiar had turned Kachian’s own words against him—reminding him of the Solar Palace breach orchestrated by the Sage, and of Kachian’s promise to lead that investigation.

“I had such high hopes, truly. I believed you would expose the culprits and surprise us all. Yet upon returning from the South, I found you had not even named a proper suspect. Can you imagine my disappointment?”

“......”

“Finish what you started. And then, perhaps you’ll be able to identify the one behind this latest sorcery. I’m sure Duke Diarca would be... quite pleased.”

“Duke...!”

“At the very least, such a performance might earn you the right to offer a recruitment proposal to the most beautiful and capable hero of the Cavalry—don’t you think?”

Kachian fell silent, as if struck again. Kishiar smiled gently, eyes curved with amusement.

“If that’s too burdensome, perhaps look elsewhere. Among the new recruits, there are many promising talents. If you wish to see what true ability looks like, keep an eye on them.”

“What are you...”

“Hm. Come to think of it, there was one recruit who seemed particularly eager to meet Your Highness. We met in the West, I believe... was the name Marin, perhaps?”

“......”

Kachian’s face went blank, as if it had shattered. He flinched back without a word, turned his body, and vanished into the darkness—staggering, breath ragged.

Kishiar watched the shadows where he disappeared for a long time, until even the sound of his gasps had faded.

“...Commander.”

Only then did his blank expression ease—when a quiet voice, tinged with a sigh, came from behind him.