The rough, sharp surge that had seemed on the verge of exploding froze in place at the snap of returning clarity.

‘What the hell was I just thinking.’

Yuder clenched his fist so tightly that his nails dug into his palm. He bit down on his tongue until it hurt and shook his head hard, and only then did it feel like his mind was starting to function again.

‘This is insane.’

Resisting this impulse with a clear mind was beyond difficult—it was almost impossible. He couldn't fathom how Kishiar had managed to endure while holding his rutting body in his arms until Nathan Zuckerman arrived. Once again, it struck him just how abnormally high Kishiar’s tolerance was.

But no matter how sweet the scent was, he couldn’t let himself get swept up in it.

That would not be the right path for Kishiar.

This time, it was his turn to protect him. Not the loyal vassals here, nor anyone else—only Yuder Aile could do this.

If Yuder failed, there would be no one left to take the next step. He was both the first chance—and the final stronghold.

At that thought, the heat and intoxicating temptation that had filled his body began to recede, bit by bit. Yuder slowed his breathing, waiting until he had calmed enough to move again, then knocked on the door three times—slowly.

It was the final notice.

“Kishiar. I already told you I won't let you endure this rut alone. You remember that, don’t you? If you don’t respond, I’m coming in.”

“...No.”

At last, a reply came from within.

“The state... it’s completely different from before. It feels dangerous, so no.”

“You’re mistaken. It’s not dangerous.”

“Please, Yuder...”

His voice, which had seemed a bit clearer, suddenly thickened again. That final plea sounded almost like a suffering beast. It was painful to hear—but through that desperation, Yuder felt the opposite.

‘The scent’s so overwhelming I got confused... but this isn’t a full rut yet.’

Someone truly consumed by instinct wouldn’t be suffering like this. He knew because he’d experienced it firsthand.

It was hard to believe such a strong scent was emanating from someone who hadn’t even fully entered rut yet—but if he went inside now, stimulated the internal energy properly, and shared his own scent with Kishiar unrestrained, maybe... he might be able to fulfill their original goal.

So, it wasn’t too late.

‘No. In fact, this might be the perfect moment to do what we haven’t been able to all this time.’

Whatever the case, when everything that was stagnant got shaken like this, it might actually be the perfect chance to steer things the way they wanted.

Yuder came to a conclusion and stepped back.

“I’m coming in. You could stop me by using force, but if you do, you’ll end up breaking my hand. If that’s what you want, then go ahead!”

The moment he finished speaking, he threw his fist forward. With a deafening crash, his wind-infused fist struck the door handle dead-on, shattering it and punching straight through the door itself.

The latch couldn’t withstand the force and ripped off in an instant. Yuder took that opening and stepped inside. The door, which had «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» bounced off the wall with a hollow bang, rebounded and brushed his back before returning to its frame. It sounded like the whole wall might collapse, but somehow the door didn’t fall apart completely—it slammed back into the frame with a heavy thud.

‘Kishiar...’

Yuder saw the man half-kneeling on the floor before him. The blanket and pillows from the nearby bed had been dragged out toward his direction and now lay scattered. It seemed Kishiar had rolled off the bed and crawled to this spot—everything from there to here was a mess. Every piece of furniture was overturned. The usual neatness was nowhere to be seen, and seeing him curled up, crushed into himself like that, made Yuder’s heart ache.

The amount of scent pouring off Kishiar’s body was overwhelming. It went beyond shimmering heat—it was like a dense mist filling the entire room. Yuder was thankful that he was the only one who could sense it. Had Kishiar not banned all internal access past the second floor and limited the movement of the Northern branch and other Awakeners to outside Peleta Castle, Yuder didn’t even want to imagine the consequences.

He approached slowly, deliberately making noise with his steps to show he had no intent to attack. Just before Yuder had broken down the door, Kishiar must have instinctively tried to use his power and barely held it back—the air around him was sharp and turbulent.

“Are you alright?”

“...Kh, cough.”

The moment Yuder laid a hand on his back, Kishiar coughed weakly. From between his flushed red lips, a darker red drop of blood slid down. For a second, Yuder panicked, thinking it was internal damage from suppressed power—but thankfully, it was just from biting his own lip too hard.

Yuder reached out to wipe the blood away, but Kishiar turned his head and drew a harsh breath.

“...”

It was the first time Kishiar la Orr had recoiled from him like this.

And that new sensation stirred something in Yuder. It didn’t feel like rejection—he understood why Kishiar pulled away. But it was still saddening... curious... and, in a way, infuriating.

Of course, his anger wasn’t directed at Kishiar—it was at the situation that had pushed him to this state. And most of all, at himself—for being the one who’d caused it.

‘I was down there too long today. I should’ve come back sooner.’

Seeing Kishiar’s trembling body struggling to remain controlled, Yuder quickly opened his mouth.

“Listen to me. You can probably already tell, but the rut hasn’t truly begun yet... or rather, it’s being blocked from even starting. If we leave things as they are, you’ll suffer for an unpredictable amount of time. But that’s exactly why... I believe now is the perfect moment to enact our plan. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Finally, Kishiar lifted his bowed head just slightly. Beyond his pale, drawn cheeks, his crimson eyes—now darker than ever—locked onto Yuder’s face. And in them, Yuder saw instinct and reason crash against each other in countless, fleeting moments.

Just meeting that wild, disoriented gaze—uncertain whether to push him away or tear him apart—sent a chill down Yuder’s spine.

But honestly, Yuder didn’t care what Kishiar did to him.

Still, this was their only chance to talk.

Yuder held his gaze without fear and whispered earnestly.

“...You said you’d trust me. That you’d leave it to me.”

Whether he heard or not was unclear, but after a beat, the man’s eyes slowly disappeared beneath heavy lids. With a furrowed brow and a shallow breath, Kishiar finally... nodded.

“...I trust you.”

That pained, desperate whisper—

And in that instant, the strength that had kept his trembling body upright drained completely. Yuder staggered under the weight, but somehow managed not to fall, regaining his balance.

‘The scent is affecting my movements... I can’t move normally.’

He used wind power to redistribute the weight and moved toward the bed. Laying Kishiar down as gently as possible, both of them exhaled ragged breaths in unison.

It wasn’t like they’d done anything strenuous—but Yuder was already soaked in sweat, and his whole body felt overheated. Despite it being winter, the heat radiating off Kishiar had set his skin on fire. It felt like he was climbing a mountain with ten boulders on his back, in thin air.

He roughly pulled off his outerwear, rolled up his sleeves, and straddled the man’s thigh. The hardness pressing firmly beneath him sent a heavy pressure through his skin—Kishiar let out a low moan.

“Hh...”

His hand reached out and gripped Yuder’s thigh hard enough to bruise. It felt like he was trying to push him away—but Yuder caught that hand and immediately grabbed at the cloth near Kishiar’s exposed chest, tearing it open.

“There’s no time to waste.”

“...”

“I’ll be fine. So trust me—give me your body. No matter what happens, I’ll stay with you.”

His hand touched bare skin.

Their eyes met.

And then—one of Yuder’s eyes glowed bright gold.