Even after blinking several times, the letters lingering in his mind remained the same. No more words followed. Yuder slowly lifted his fingers from the page, a feeling he couldn’t describe welling inside him.

“Inon.”

“What.”

“There’s a message for you at the very front. I think you should at least read this part.”

Inon replied without even turning his head, using his usual tone.

“I said I had a feeling this was left for me, didn’t I? ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ That’s why I told you to read it first, just in case. I figured it’d be something like, ‘If you made it this far, then you’re clearly here for another purpose, so maybe this will help, or not~’ something like that.”

Yuder looked between the journal and Inon’s back and asked,

“You’re not just saying that after already reading it, are you?”

“Of course not?! I’m just guessing because it’s obvious.”

“But there’s another line. That’s why I thought you should be the one to read it.”

Only then did Inon turn his head.

“...Sigh. What is it? Just tell me.”

Yuder stayed silent for a moment, then spoke.

“I hope, when you find this, you are happy.”

Inon’s hand slipped. The wooden fragments he’d been sorting by type clattered and collapsed, scattering everywhere. Despite the mess, Inon froze completely. His eyes blinked slowly, and then he asked back in a low voice.

“...What did you say?”

“She said she hoped you’d be happy. That’s what it says.”

“......”

Inon couldn’t respond right away. Between the depths of his lowered gaze, unreadable emotions passed like wind. Perhaps within those eyes lay the time and history that even Yuder could never understand.

What should one say at a moment like this? There was no obligation to say anything, but even so, watching Inon make that expression and still being unable to offer any comforting words was frustrating.

...If it were Kishiar.

That thought had barely crossed his mind when—

Three knocks broke the silence.

“I sensed a sudden shift in mana and came down, but the door’s closed. Can you tell me whether it’s alright for me to come in?”

That smooth voice belonged to the very man Yuder had just been thinking about. At last, Inon blinked and furrowed his brow. Yuder promptly answered Kishiar’s question.

“Something unexpected happened, but it’s fine now. You can come in.”

No sooner had the words left his mouth than the door opened, and Kishiar strode inside. Despite the calm voice that had seemed like he was simply checking in, he was holding a sword in one hand. His sharp eyes scanned the room quickly before settling on Yuder. He smiled faintly. As Yuder blinked, the sword disappeared—sheathed so fast it seemed instantaneous.

“That’s a relief. Even though I knew the two here weren’t ones I should worry about, I couldn’t help it.”

“No, you came at a good time. As you can see, we’ve just uncovered the hidden research left behind by Luma.”

“So it seems. Truly impressive. How did you manage it?”

Yuder, skipping over the more personal parts of his conversation with Inon, explained the process. Kishiar showed deep interest when he heard that the magic had been unlocked with the blood Inon shed from his palm.

“I see. A spell that only opens with blood or lineage... That’s certainly the style of Oblik van Ta-in.”

Oblik van Ta-in had focused more on research than combat, to the point that his identity as a mage was nearly forgotten in later generations. Yet the concealment spells he had left behind had endured nearly a thousand years. According to Inon’s standards, it meant that when it came to concealment magic, Oblik had clearly reached the level of a Grand Mage.

“—Or perhaps Luma herself helped develop his concealment magic to this degree, in search of a way to hide this place. Personally, I think the latter is more likely. They were master and disciple, after all.”

“That does make sense.”

“It just shows how dangerous and important the things hidden here must be. Judging from the subjects and contents of the research, that much is clear. But beyond that...”

Kishiar glanced at the documents lined up on the shelves and gave a chilly smile.

“Given that the founders of the Empire deliberately erased most of pre-Cataclysm history, it wouldn’t have ended well for even the Grand Mage if it had been discovered that she kept records from that time.”

“......”

“In any case, it’s good to see you both unharmed... but what’s wrong with the pharmacist? Something happen?”

“Ask the brat. I don’t feel like explaining.”

“...It was this. We believe it’s Luma’s journal, and at the front, there’s a short message addressed to Inon.”

Yuder showed him the journal as he spoke. Kishiar’s eyes widened slightly—as if that alone was enough to understand the situation.

“Hm... I see. Looks like the Grand Mage left both a letter and a journal, assuming two possible outcomes depending on whether the pharmacist came here.”

“How can you be so sure without reading it?”

“If she had faith in the one who would come here, she’d do that.”

Yuder hadn’t considered that.

“Faith... you say?”

“Of course, I can’t speak with certainty since I’m not the Grand Mage. But if I put myself in her shoes...”

Kishiar’s red eyes traced the worn cover of the journal in Yuder’s hands. After a short pause, he began to speak slowly, as though piecing his thoughts together.

“The reason she created the 7 Walls was likely due to the First Emperor’s will—to prevent signs of another possible Cataclysm in the future. But even while carrying out that task, she must not have been fully convinced that moment would ever actually come. Even so, if it did happen—and if the Guardian chose to uphold Luma’s promise and perform their role...”

“......”

“There’d be two possible paths. One: the Guardian knows little or cares nothing about Luma or the First Emperor’s intentions, and only wishes to fulfill their duty. Two: people like Luma and the First Emperor are still by the Guardian’s side in some form, and the Guardian gathers information from here to carry on their will.”

The former was clearly the path the Inon of the previous life had taken. The latter...

Kishiar looked Yuder directly in the eyes and gave a subtle nod.

“Both are valid ways to fulfill the Guardian’s duty. But their meaning is very different.”

Physically manipulating the 7 Walls of the Capital to block monsters and disasters was fast, straightforward, and visibly effective.

But gathering Luma’s records, working with others to go beyond the Capital and defend the world—that path was arduous and uncertain. Especially because there was no guarantee everything Luma left behind was true or even useful. Still... the current Inon had chosen the second path.

“The uncertain belief that someone would one day walk the same path. The improbable hope that their Guardian would be by that person’s side. Despite that, the Grand Mage left behind what help she could, in her own way—because she trusted the Guardian would choose something. If she thought the Guardian might choose nothing at all, she wouldn’t have gone through all this trouble.”

“......”

“......”

Yuder recalled the words again:

I hope, when you find this, you are happy.

This journal might be nothing more than a collection of failed attempts and uncertain research. Leaving it behind served no benefit to the Grand Mage. If anything, it put her life and legacy at risk, just as Kishiar had said.

And yet... she still left it.

Perhaps when she thought about the one who would find it, she realized Inon might not be alone.

And if that’s what she meant by “happiness at the moment of discovery”...

“......”

As Yuder tightened his grip on the journal, Inon suddenly shot up from his seat.

“...Give me that. I’ll read it now.”