Turning-Chapter 847

And for words like that, Yuder always had only one response.

“There’s only one person in this world who can order me around.”

With that, the layered, echoing laughter of the illusions that had been ringing from every direction abruptly stopped.

—I just don’t understand.

—It’s strange.

—Are you really satisfied with where you are now? Truly?

—Even after all you’ve gone through?

Yuder didn’t answer. But the hallucinations kept whispering.

—Illusions pulled from the mind never lie. It may not have happened, but it’s something you truly experienced.

—If that’s true, then you must know things I don’t. No... things no one else in this world knows. You must be someone who knows the future.

“......”

—I’ve heard of such a person before... yes, back when I was a child.

—A wolf that killed death and returned... a prophet who leads the stars.

‘...Wolf?’

A word that felt familiar. Yuder blinked his blurred eyes. When had he heard that before? But before he could remember, the illusion began to murmur again, and the thought vanished.

—Brother. Prophet. Every answer you showed me for the future... was horrible.

—This damned world. A world that’s never gotten any better. A world full of death.

—A world full of things that deserve to be destroyed...

The source of this c𝓸ntent is frёeweɓηovel.coɱ.

—So that must be the truth of where this world is headed.

—But then, why didn’t you destroy it, knowing the answer? Why did you leave them be? Why didn’t you take revenge?

—Are you telling me you believe in some divine will, that the world can become better than what’s already known?

His ears rang. His head throbbed as if it would split. He wasn’t even sure anymore if this was a conversation with Naham or a self-dialogue happening in his own mind. Yuder bit down on his lips and forced himself to speak.

“...I don’t give a damn what a god is. Revenge, revenge... I don’t need any of that shit.”

—Then?

—Then what do you need?

The illusion asked. Yuder stayed silent for a long time. In the distance—far, far away—he began to see the black veil slowly peel away, faint light shining through.

Kishiar and Gakein had received the signal.

That meant they’d be here soon. Carried by that light, crossing through the darkness.

It hadn’t even happened yet, but just imagining them returning to him was enough to calm him down, to settle his heart.

Protecting a world you already know will collapse—words like that sound noble. But if you really think about it, the reason isn’t anything that grand.

It’s just... because there are comrades who, trusting a single signal he sent, risk everything and rush toward him through any danger.

Because he wants them to keep living that way.

Because there are people who, despite the possibility that he might be crazy or lying, believe what he says without any proof.

Because he wants that person to keep walking beside him.

Yuder, still watching the fading magical shield around his body, said softly:

“Someone who... believes in what I say.”

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

If there’s someone like that, then revenge didn’t matter to him.

That weak, fragile thread of trust—somehow, it was enough to let him truly believe that this damned world might be given another chance. That he could help make that happen.

And in truth, the world had already changed a great deal from before.

Kishiar la Orr was alive, walking beside him.

Wasn’t that enough?

—That’s it?

“Yeah.”

—I can’t understand it. It’s strange, weak hypocrisy...

“Who lost to that strange, weak hypocrisy?”

—...

As Naham’s bitter muttering—cursing as someone who had broken all his beliefs and abandoned everything—spilled from his lips, the illusions surrounding him began to fade.

As the last of the veil peeled away, the illusion whispered, almost inaudibly.

—...You said I’d explode and die. So why is death so long and stubborn for me? Is even death turning its back on me?

Yuder knew the answer.

“I said you’d either explode or be ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) killed. Be glad you got to burn out and leave a body behind. If you’d exploded, this entire area would be a disaster. This is the best outcome.”

Rampage was the result of power swelling uncontrollably. When the body could no longer endure, the vessel would burst, and the unleashed power would sweep everything nearby like a bomb before finally burning out.

To minimize damage, one had to drain the rampaging Awakener’s power, lure them to an isolated location, then kill them.

Naham’s rampage, right before it burst outward, had been contained—thanks to Kishiar’s swift judgment and Gakein’s barrier sealing off the area. Then, facing someone like Yuder with overwhelming strength, Naham had expended an unimaginable amount of power at once.

And finally, the sword strike through his chest.

The blade hadn’t pierced the center of the heart, but slightly lower—closer to the solar plexus. More precisely, it struck the exact flow point where mana from the Awakener’s core, the mana hole, branched out.

It hadn’t been intentional, but the timing was perfect. Thanks to that, even in the middle of such an immense rampage, it looked like Naham would die without exploding.

‘A relief, really... If that bastard had blown up, I’d have been the first to take the hit.’

If that had happened, he would’ve taken far more damage. He’d been confident he wouldn’t lose to Naham, but avoiding the aftermath of a rampage was another matter entirely.

Yuder recalled past cases where rampaging Awakeners exploded, leaving devastating destruction because they hadn’t been properly subdued. If Kishiar had known those cases in detail, he might not have left with just a warning earlier.

In any case, despite his long experience handling rampaging Awakeners, there had been few with this level of power that Yuder had managed to subdue so completely. In that sense, Naham was lucky.

Not that the bastard would see it that way...

Naham’s gray eyes, stained with bloody tears, stared at Yuder. The focus wasn’t sharp, but Yuder met his gaze squarely.

He hadn’t realized it before, but now that he saw, those eye colors were the same as Mayra’s—and Duke Hern’s.

It gave him a strange feeling.

Yuder furrowed his brow, and Naham moved his lips faintly, murmuring something.

“...Those black eyes. They’re just like my brother’s.”

“Call me that crap again and I’ll...”

Just as Yuder growled, ignoring the blood dripping down his chin like a beast ready to strike, a hand reached from behind and caught him.

A quick, breathless gasp. That familiar cool scent.

“...Yuder.”

It was Kishiar. He had finally returned and caught Yuder in his arms.

There was no room left for thought. Yuder let go of the sword hilt he’d been gripping so desperately to keep himself upright. As his body swayed and collapsed, shouts rang out from the surroundings—voices he couldn’t place.

“Yuder!”

“Ah...!”

Unbeknownst to him, the shadowy veil had mostly been lifted.

The silence was now filled by human voices. And something he hadn’t felt in a long time—cold, and the harsh strike of something against his hair...

‘...Snow? Or hail?’

Something wasn’t right. The moment he sensed danger, his flickering consciousness snapped back into clarity. Now wasn’t the time to collapse and rest.

Yuder struggled, lifting his head with great effort—just to see Kishiar’s face.