The place Shuseiner led Yuder to was a staircase that climbed all the way to the top of the outer castle. Moving with a surprising ease for someone wearing a prosthetic leg, Shuseiner opened his mouth as he ascended the steps.

“Sir Yuder, do you know what’s at the end of this path?”

“I heard there’s a watchtower and a tower.”

That’s what Enk had explained on the first day Yuder arrived at Peleta.

“You’ve already been to the watchtower, haven’t you?”

“Yes.”

It had been on the second day of their visit to Peleta. After dinner, Yuder had gone over to the outer castle with Kishiar to watch the sunset from the watchtower. Though no longer used for its original purpose, the watchtower was narrow and empty. But the sight of the crimson light filling the space through a small window had been deeply memorable.

When Yuder had mentioned he’d never seen such a view before, Kishiar had smiled and said that the sea through that tiny frame looked like a painting. A painting that even vast fortunes could never purchase. That kind of pride in Peleta explained why Enk had recommended the spot so confidently.

While recalling that memory, Yuder heard Shuseiner ask:

“But you haven’t been to the tower yet, have you?”

“Is that where we’re headed now?”

“Yes.”

As Shuseiner said, he hadn’t yet visited the tower. It was located in the most secluded western corner of the outer castle. The path to it was poorly maintained—many of the stone walls and steps were cracked, and cold wind leaked in through the gaps.

“Hardly anyone comes here anymore, so the path’s a bit rough. Haha.”

After climbing what felt like an endless set of stairs, they finally arrived at the tower’s top. The door leading inside was made of thick iron and gave off a gloomy aura. Just looking at it, one could tell it was not a place to enter lightly—but Shuseiner didn’t hesitate and pushed the door open.

Despite looking tightly sealed, the door swung inward with surprising ease, revealing a dark, dust-filled room that sent Shuseiner into a coughing fit.

“Goodness. So much dust. I’ll need to come back and clean this place.”

“Please step back for a moment.”

Was there really a need to come back later just for cleaning? With a single wave of his hand, Yuder called upon the power of wind, and all the dust in the room was swept away in an instant. Shuseiner clapped even louder than before.

“Good heavens. Just like before, I’ve never seen such a remarkable ability! I almost asked you to stay here permanently!”

“People always say that when they see me clean.”

Even for someone with wind abilities, this wasn’t something easily done. To remove only dust without disturbing the surroundings required precise control. Even among the Cavalry, hardened by brutal training, no one could clean as effortlessly as Yuder, and his fellow members often envied him for it.

Shuseiner let out a loud, hearty laugh.

“Looks like I was... oh, maybe three steps too late. In any case, you’ve saved me the trouble. Now then, please enjoy the sea view from Peleta’s most special spot.”

The lone room at the top of the tower resembled the watchtower—dark and small—but here, one could see not just the sea, but the entirety of Peleta and its coastline at once.

‘What a perfectly placed vantage point.’

Yuder gazed at the tranquil village that seemed to cradle the black, rippling sea. From this perspective, Peleta looked completely different than when he’d been within it.

Like a peaceful, cozy world of its own.

A world that Kishiar—and those who followed him—had protected and nurtured into existence.

Just as Shuseiner said, it was indeed a special place.

As Yuder looked out the window, his gaze drifted back inside the room. Now cleared of dust, a few very old items stood out. An empty, timeworn box. Some wooden planks.

And a heavily worn sword stand.

The sword it once held was no longer there, but even in its current state, the stand looked like it had once carried something precious. Why would such an object be here? As the thought crossed his mind, a voice echoed faintly in his memory.

“—I climbed to the top of the western tower in the castle. I knew what was there...”

Ah. His lips parted in surprise.

That voice belonged to the man who had found Yuder hidden in a corner of the palace the day his Second Awakening suddenly began during a mission. Despite being feverish and in pain, Yuder had been strangely struck by those words.

Back then, Kishiar had spoken to comfort Yuder—playfully but honestly—about the day he had awakened, something he had never told anyone, even in his past life. The story had shocked him because he never imagined Kishiar would share such a personal memory in that moment.

“I was lying in a bedroom in Peleta Castle. It was a bit large for one person, but not bad. Then, suddenly, the Awakening came—followed immediately by manifestation. The pain and heat, the likes of which I’d never known before, made me think: ‘This is the day I die.’”

“So what did I do? I screamed at Nathan to get everyone out of the castle immediately, and then I climbed to the top of the western tower. I knew what was there.”

“There was a sacred sword that had been left in storage after the previous owner passed. I planned to use it to end my life. If someone unchosen tries to touch the sacred sword, it brings terrible punishment...”

But what stayed with Yuder most was what Kishiar said after that:

“But as you can see... I didn’t die. And now I’m even the Commander of the Cavalry. Life really is strange, isn’t it? Something terrible today might suddenly lead to happiness tomorrow.”

Despite the scent and heat pouring from Yuder in his feverish state, Kishiar had spoken with no hint of distress, his voice calm and gentle.

Those words had awakened within Yuder a sense of curiosity toward Kishiar la Orr—one he hadn’t felt in ages. Feelings he thought had long disappeared.

“So... this is the tower he spoke of.”

Thinking he would die, Kishiar had climbed this tower to avoid harming others and sought out the sacred sword Orre. Was this the very place where it had all happened?

Noticing Yuder staring at the empty sword stand, Shuseiner spoke.

“This place was off-limits until just a few years ago. The ban was meant to prevent anyone from accidentally touching what was stored here... and dying.”

His tone was steady, as if he already knew what Yuder was thinking. Yuder turned his gaze to him and asked,

“Was that item the sacred sword Orre?”

“Yes. It was.”

So had he really brought Yuder here just to show him a nice view of the sea? That seemed less and less likely.

With a quiet smile, Shuseiner continued.

“The eleventh owner of the sacred sword was once a promising swordmaster. But he committed a crime akin to treason and was banished. After he ended his life here, no one else could draw the sacred sword. Knights who came boldly to claim it were all found horribly dead, as if every drop of blood had been drained from their bodies.”

“......”

“After the Count of Peletiam disappeared, Peleta often became a final resting place for exiled nobles. That’s why the people of Peleta never held much hope for those who came here—until our Duke... who was once known as the Second Prince, arrived.”

A wistful light flickered in Shuseiner’s wrinkled eyes, as if he were remembering distant days.

“In my younger years, I worked doing menial tasks along the palace roads—clearing stones and pulling weeds so the horses could run smoothly. I hated the work and sometimes slacked off. I didn’t think what I did mattered.”

Then, something happened.

“One day, the Second Prince’s horse fell into a hole I hadn’t filled properly. It was terrible.”

The prince’s prized horse broke its leg and died. Worse still, something else happened that day that left the Second Prince severely injured—so much so that he was confined in the palace. Shuseiner, as the one responsible for maintaining that path, was imprisoned immediately. He thought he was going to die.

But astonishingly, he was released, spared through the prince’s mercy.

When he met the prince afterward, he was told:

“What happened wasn’t because of the road—it ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) was my fault. Saying my horse died because of a hole you missed isn’t the truth, so don’t blame yourself. If I end things that way, I won’t be able to hold my head high ever again.”

“I’d never heard such strange words in my life,” Shuseiner said. “I had been lazy with my work, and in the end, it made sense that someone like me would take the blame and die for it. That’s how it always is for those below.”

“......”

“Only later did I find out... that the prince had an illness, and it had flared up that day. The horse’s death was likely due to that.”

The “illness” he mentioned was obvious.

That had to be the day when Kishiar’s vessel first began to fracture.

The story of how the energy leaking from the cracks had killed his beloved horse—it had come full circle in this tower.

“After that, I transferred to the prince’s kitchen. I learned proper cooking there, and when he came to Peleta, I volunteered to follow. When my request was denied, I quit out of sheer frustration. Then I hid along his travel route, waited for him to pass, and begged to come along.”

This was an unexpected backstory. Yuder had assumed Shuseiner, like Helrem or Nathan, had always been by Kishiar’s side from the beginning—but that wasn’t the case at all.

“...That’s impressive.”

“Everyone said I was crazy. I think so too.”

Shuseiner grinned proudly.

“But who else could feed him properly? Cooking in the palace requires absolute trust. It’s exhausting to eat every meal not knowing if it’s poisoned. That’s why I knew he’d need me.”

“......”

“I lost a leg along the way, but I wear that as a proud symbol of loyalty. And so is this place. After all, it was he who opened up a room no one had entered for hundreds of years, by becoming the owner of the sacred sword. Others still avoid it, calling it cursed—but I like it here.”

Looking Yuder in the eye, Shuseiner smiled.

“So I hope His Grace’s precious guest will like it here too.”

Yuder finally felt he understood why he had been brought to this place.