With a nod, Nathan Zuckerman left. Kishiar stood still, gazing down at his own hands.
'I said it couldn't be speculated with the knowledge I had, but in truth, emotions could lead to conjecture. Especially if it were a part of me.'
Yuder's recent nightmare was significantly different from his previous dreams. It was neither a reenactment of scenarios from the 'previous game' nor shared with Kishiar.
The most notable difference was that, despite this, Kishiar La Orr from the previous game, or more precisely, his hand, made an appearance.
Yuder's reaction alone was enough to confirm with certainty that this was a first-time occurrence, even if he had never dreamt something like this before.
Therefore, Yuder felt, and Kishiar also thought, that this dream was not an ordinary one. The mere appearance of the hand and the actions it took in the dream were all notably unusual.
Yuder mentioned that the hand had caressed him.
He tried to explain as calmly as possible, suppressing his emerging emotions, but the look in his eyes while speaking was far from usual. It was cold, detached, and empty, like someone who had reopened an old, deep scar.
Yet, within those eyes, there was a faint confusion, guilt, and a tiny spark of something he would probably never admit to having.
It was a spark all too familiar to Kishiar. He had seen Yuder nurture and grow it into a blazing flame more than anyone else.
Just the night before, under Kishiar's touch, Yuder had fanned that flame countless times. The pure flames of passion that arose in his pitch-black eyes were so mesmerizing that they threatened to consume Kishiar in their intensity.
Knowing this, Kishiar could guess what Yuder might have recalled when he was touched in the dream.
Yuder didn't explicitly talk about his past life relationship, but there are things in this world that can't be described dryly, especially physical aspects.
Kishiar had deduced these things from the slight clues Yuder inadvertently dropped and the sequence in which the dream hand had touched Yuder. He had predicted much of this from Yuder's words and behavior, as well as the fleeting moments of past lives he saw in his dreams, but it had never felt as vivid as now.
The reason was simple. For Yuder, those were just memories of a past long gone, but not this time.
"Cheek, lips, then the chin. Finally... the neck."
Kishiar raised his hand, slowly moving it through the air as if tracing something.
It was the same path described by Yuder when he spoke of the dream hand's caress.
Kishiar gazed at his hand, paused at the height of Yuder's neck, and then closed his eyes.
He imagined an unfortunate man who had just regained his strength, future, and precious family, only to realize that he had lost everything again.
He wore gloves daily, much like the current Yuder, perhaps because the man from that time had endured similar or identical experiences. Yuder, who possessed only the power of the Awakener and was confident in his unique skills, had faced the raw power of the Red Stone head-on and used it as an opportunity for self-improvement. But what about himself?
Kishiar easily imagined the worst-case scenario he would face if he were in such a situation, considering the condition of his body when he went on the mission to retrieve the Red Stone.
'The balance of the body is completely broken by the rampage of the Awakener power. The worst scenario unfolds when one can no longer maintain the barely-held-together vessel.'
If such a situation were to arise, the outcome would be as clear as day. However, Kishiar focused on conjecturing what actions he himself would have taken.
'If it were me.'
If it were him, he would have first sought a way to survive. The thought of losing the hope he had just grasped was unbearable and not something he could easily give up on. For that, he would have devoted all his time and resources. Even the ambitious Cavalry he had started and the enemies who had long awaited their turn would have been ignored in such a predicament.
But if, in the end, he found no solution and was certain that no new opportunities would come his way,
Then, perhaps,
'He would have prepared for what comes after death.'
Dying without achieving his desired goals would have been regrettable, but in some ways, it might have been for the better. It's a possibility one must always consider, something he had mentally prepared for since childhood.
Since the vessel began to crack, he had spent much time bedridden. Lying there, he read about numerous historical figures of power and idealists who dreamt of it, all falling and being stranded by unforeseeable tempests in life.
Had they succeeded, history might have drastically changed. Great figures who couldn't even glimpse the threshold of their goals died in vain, and the ambitious, after enduring hardships to achieve everything, saw their accomplishments crumble to dust and disappear without a trace the moment they died. Such is life, and one's ideals are no exception.
Emperor Keilusa once spoke similar words after losing the heir he cherished and damaging his vessel.
"Kishiar. I thought myself a man of considerable restraint, but today's incomprehensible tragedy reveals how baselessly I believed that fate would ultimately smile upon me. To think that my only recourse is to curse the heavens, I do not even deserve to be a father to that child."
Kishiar had harbored similar thoughts since his early years. His conclusion then was that until death, it's not truly over, so he should enjoy life and live it to the fullest.
But could he have maintained such thoughts after being deprived of a second chance? Kishiar doubted it. Knowing the joy, success, fulfillment, and exhilaration brought by his current endeavors, he could hardly fathom the despair of them falling apart.
If he had never tasted hope, perhaps it would be different, but to vomit out the hope once savored seemed an unbearable task.
However, the death of Kishiar La Orr is not a solitary end. Before him stands an emperor on the brink of an uncertain death, an empress who pinned all her hopes on him, and loyal subjects, including a devoted assistant and knights united under the banner of Peletta.
For a peaceful death, he needed to consider those he would leave behind. In this process, there was no room for anything else to intervene.
So, ordinarily, that's what would have happened.
In a situation where the end was foreseen, it seemed unlikely to afford attention to anything new, yet in the previous game, it appears such an event had indeed occurred.
Kishiar remembered the eyes of the shabby, visibly ill man he had secretly observed from behind Yuder's dream. The man's gaze, watching the young and inexperienced Yuder, who appeared to be his real age, clumsily swinging a sword he had only recently acquired, had a hint of joy. He had attended the successor's inauguration ceremony, a place he needn't have bothered with, and hidden in the shadows, he watched as the successor donned the attire he had prepared and followed in his footsteps. Kishiar, with eyes devoid of any warmth, observed the man's foolish, feigned smile as he playfully pressed his lips to the back of his successor's hand.
Being himself, Kishiar was keenly aware of how absurd it all was.
Even appearing as nothing more than a hand and ultimately only managing to caress Yuder.
Yuder seemed unaware as he spoke, but Kishiar knew. The way the hand in the dream stroked him, the order, the method, except for the neck, were almost identical to how he usually tenderly touched Yuder when engulfed in affectionate feelings.
If the other person was devoid of emotion, merely a transient acquaintance from a troubled past, one would never touch him in such a manner.
These were feelings only Kishiar La Orr could perceive, and they bombarded his mind like a torrential downpour as he listened to the story.
An indescribable, instinctive certainty.
But how could he possibly convey this to Yuder?
Kishiar lowered his hand and opened his eyes. The fleeting look of pain had long since vanished.
He clenched his fist and nonchalantly left the place, moving on with his steps.