Chapter 605

The lodging where Kishiar stayed was the largest room in an old mansion owned by the frugal and conservative Baron Koelt. The mansion had rooms with multiple purposes, all connected by a confusing array of doors. Anyone unfamiliar with the layout could easily find themselves wandering in circles, eventually ending up outside. It was an invaluable mechanism designed to protect the owner of the house.

Navigating through such a place in complete darkness without even a single lamp lit would be difficult for most. But not for Yuder. He moved as naturally as if he were walking in broad daylight, deftly avoiding obstacles.

Ever since his eye had become an Eye of Magic, Yuder had hardly been inconvenienced by darkness, even when his eye wasn't glowing its gold hue.

Click. A faint sound reached his ears once more. Perhaps because he was getting closer, the nature of the sound was now more clearly discernable.

The momentary noise of hard stones colliding.

There was no mistaking it—it was undoubtedly the sound of pieces hitting the board in a strategy game.

Was Kishiar playing a strategy game by himself?

'Why at this time? Alone...'

No. Let's hold off on the questions until he confirmed the situation firsthand. Yuder focused even more, dampening his presence to an extraordinary extent. Knights were trained to mask their presence through physical control, but Yuder was capable of achieving the same effect, but more brilliantly, when necessary.

Whoosh...

Wind power, summoned by his will, wrapped around Yuder's feet and body without making a sound. A sensation as if the subtle air currents around him had suddenly stilled washed over him, silencing all noise. Now, there were very few in the world who would be aware of Yuder's movements, no matter what he did.

It was the first time he'd gone to such lengths to mask his presence since his return. And it had to be now, of all times.

But what could he do? If something inexplicable was happening with Kishiar, then Yuder had to find out what it was.

As he continued walking, his heightened senses guided him like invisible limbs groping through the air, leading him in the right direction.

Just as he rounded a fireplace, passed a long bookshelf along the wall, and was about to cross the third door—finally, a faint outline of someone appeared in the darkness. Yuder deftly halted his steps.

Even if the shimmering golden locks weren't visible, there was no room for doubt about who it was. The blood coursing through his veins screamed it.

He had finally found Kishiar.

But Kishiar's appearance was both as Yuder had suspected and startlingly different.

The man sat alone before a hexagonal board, his hands moving as if unaffected by the darkness. The rhythmic click, click sounds resonated continuously.

His movements looked as usual, but the state of the board he shaped with those hands in the quietude was slightly different.

White pieces captured black, then black captured white in turn. The fluid movements traced a trajectory that seemed strangely familiar.

'That's... the review of our second game, isn't it?'

His heart rate involuntarily quickened at the startling realization.

Kishiar was not simply playing a game by himself; he was recreating the game they had played together, reviewing it move by move.

The order of the pieces they had placed then was revived perfectly by Kishiar's alternating hands placing black and white pieces. Even the momentary hesitation that Yuder had felt during that game was flawlessly reenacted. Staring blankly at the spectacle, it wasn't long before the game neared its end.

The moment the last key-like tile slotted in among the strategically scattered white tiles, a meticulously calculated, beautiful formation revealed itself. It was a formation that resembled wings, as if enveloping everything within its reach—a perfect net with no room for the enemy to escape.

The second game would certainly have ended with the completion of this formation, but Kishiar began moving his hand again without even sparing a glance at the finished product.

All the tiles returned to their original places, reverting to their initial state. The movements that followed were no different than before. The only slight difference was that this time he was reviewing the moves from their first game.

It was then that Yuder finally realized.

This was not something Kishiar had done once or twice.

It was more than just a review of the game's moves. What was being recreated at Kishiar's fingertips was not just the game's circumstances but the entire flow of words and emotions that had been exchanged between them that day.

One couldn't replicate this without having memorized every single aspect of that moment.

While the movements were undeniably rhythmic and elegant, the aura they emitted was far removed from calmness or serenity.

A tranquility that refrained from even a hint of warmth.

A silence that echoed like an anxious scream.

Watching the tiles being laid down by those automatically moving fingers, Yuder felt a sudden chill spreading in his chest. That momentary sensation, which made the hairs on his body stand on end, disappeared in the blink of an eye. And yet, that allowed him to understand its nature more clearly.

'This is...'

It wasn't something Yuder had sensed upon waking up; it was a strong emotion that seemed to surge from afar and vanish like an ebbing tide, leaving only its afterimage.

A chill devoid of any warmth, though brief, had considerable impact.

The nerves that had tensed up to their limits were fraying at the edges, and the frozen tension felt like it was pounding at the flesh from the inside. It was an aspect he never thought he'd sense from Kishiar.

Unknowingly, Yuder flinched and bit his lip.

Meanwhile, Kishiar had finished reviewing the second game and was rearranging the tiles. His face, hidden in the darkness, looked as if he was just another person engrossed in the game. However, it no longer appeared that way to Yuder.

Some movements can seem so slow and peaceful that they paradoxically induce a sense of quiet anxiety.

'Yes... anxiety.'

Unbelievable as it was, the man who looked utterly serene was reviewing the games in a state of utter anxiety. As if endlessly repeating the games that encompassed all the experiences Yuder had ever had in his previous life would reveal something unknown.

The cold emotions that seemed to be skimming the surface were not directed outward but inward, toward Kishiar himself. It was the result of an anxiety that he couldn't restrain, even though he knew he shouldn't be feeling it.

'Has it been like this ever since that day?'

He was relieved because he trusted him, because he accepted what he said.

It had seemed fine; he had appeared to be looking for a new path for the future, which was why he had been truly relieved.

The sincerity in his smiling face, even when he joked about conquering the world, had undoubtedly been genuine.

However, the silent anxiety he was witnessing now was also likely a part of what Kishiar had felt that day.

Even as he mingled with Yuder, a portion of his own relentless, unsparing stubbornness—something he had endeavored to hide until the very end—was present here.

The face of the man, forever cycling between that day's defeat and victory, was as flawless and beautiful as a chiseled sculpture, a beauty that only served to claw painfully at one's heart.

'...'

Images of Kishiar that Yuder had seen over time rapidly flickered through his mind.

Kishiar, engrossed in watching a strategy game board, citing it as reminiscent of old times. The soft glint in his eyes when they shared jokes, laughter, and kisses for the sheer joy of the moment. The same game board that never left his office desk, even amidst his busyness.

To Yuder Aile, Kishiar had always acted with consistent honesty, always maintaining an air of composure. However, in matters he deemed unnecessary, he ruthlessly suppressed and concealed his own feelings, feeling no obligation to be forthright.

Presumably, Kishiar must have thought his own anxiety and negative emotions wouldn't be of any help to Yuder, nor to the situation at hand.

It was indeed a rational conclusion.

But was it the perfect conclusion? Certainly not.

An inexplicable heat surged violently within his chest, hotter even than when a hot poker was pressed into a wound. Something ablaze scorched the inside of his throat, eyes, head, and some other unidentifiable places.

He felt stupid for having been overly trusting of Kishiar until now. An unjustified thought that he shouldn't have done so invaded his being.

The moment Yuder bit his lip even harder, Kishiar's latest introspection came to an end. For a moment, Kishiar reached out as if to replay his introspection, then hesitated as if recalling something.

The next moment, Kishiar slowly caressed the inner part of the ring on his right hand with his left hand. As far as Yuder knew, the ring was certainly a magic tool for altering one's appearance. As Kishiar touched not the embedded gem but the inner metal part, a faint light emanated from his palm, emitting a powder of light. A golden magic power gently descended upon Kishiar.

To an ordinary person, it would have seemed to end there, but Yuder saw, through his special vision, how that magic power affected Kishiar's body.

The skin, imbued with particles of light, faintly glowed as his complexion returned. His lips, which were a bit paler than usual, and his eyes, which had sunk coldly and dried up, all regained their natural moisture.

It resembled, perhaps even exceeded, the effect of receiving vitality-enhancing divine power from a priest.

''Nathan Zukerman said that while he was away for a while yesterday, he felt a change in the flow around Kishiar, similar to when he used a magic tool.'

He had assumed that Kishiar might have briefly experimented with the facial-altering magic tool, but now that he saw the results, he knew otherwise.

Yuder decided that there was no longer any need for restraint. He withdrew the still wind that had been wrapping around him.

No sooner had he done so than Kishiar turned his head.

Their gazes met in the darkness.

"...So it's come to this."

A soft murmur escaped from between Kishiar's lips.