Turning-Chapter 876

No matter how hostile the countries were, as long as trade wasn’t completely banned, civilian trade caravans would continue to move in secret.

If Southern caravans wanted to travel north of the desert without using ships, they had no choice but to cross the desert, and without sufficient preparation, that place was treacherous and nearly impossible to pass through.

The mid-zones were secret shortcuts and supply stations established over the years by such caravans.

Several mid-zones existed across the vast desert.

Some were known even to the Empire, but most were managed and known only among specific Southern caravans.

Knowledge of these monster-free shortcuts was just as valuable to Southern traders as the trade goods themselves—it was their livelihood.

Even with Kanna’s intelligence, pinpointing the exact mid-zone Naham had used to move was difficult.

So from that point on, Nathan Zuckerman stepped in.

He went alone, without bringing anyone else, and searched around the edges of the desert for days to find Naham.

And finally, he succeeded in finding Naham’s clothing.

“Nathan. I assume you also gathered information about the caravan managing that mid-zone called the Sunset Entrance?”

“Yes. Anman Noon... translated into Imperial, it would be the Owl Wing Caravan.

It’s an old caravan and seems well-known in those parts.

The caravan leader isn’t just a merchant but from a prestigious Southern family.

That’s probably how a single caravan could own an entire «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» mid-zone.”

“The Owl Wing Caravan, huh. Then it’s safe to say they’re the ones who took Naham.”

“The odds are greater that they disposed of a body that suddenly appeared than that they went out of their way to bring a living person.”

“At this point, the probabilities don’t matter when it comes to that man. You know that too.”

Look at Hosanra.

Even after exhausting nearly all his strength and teetering on the edge of rampage and death, he still managed to send Naham all the way to the desert.

Awakeners are the kind of beings who can achieve what everyone else believes to be impossible.

So Naham could have done it too.

“Prioritize the possibility that he’s alive and continue investigating.

Also, find out which region of the South the family that owns the caravan is based in.”

“Understood.”

Wherever that caravan is based is likely the final destination Hosanra intended for Naham.

In that case, the mysterious Southerners who were trying to find Naham might also be there.

Whether or not they were truly related to Naham’s birth mother no longer mattered.

What mattered now was finding out whether Naham was still alive... or dead.

Naham had learned far too much in the last battle.

He had seen Kishiar’s past memories, read the memories of key Cavalry members, and even learned about Yuder Aile’s “previous game.”

Kishiar didn’t consider his own memories being read particularly important.

No matter how significant the events were, most of what had appeared in the illusions were already past.

There was little that could affect the future.

But Yuder’s memories—and the illusions they triggered—were different.

Within those memories, which only he had known, was enough information to overturn the entire world if one so desired.

If someone who had learned that much had survived and crossed into the South...

Even Kishiar couldn’t predict what would happen next.

That’s why Naham’s survival had to be confirmed at all costs.

After thinking that far, Kishiar lifted his eyes, which had been sunken in thought.

“Nathan. Next time, don’t go alone.

Take Kanna, Ele, and Nipolen with you.”

“Nipolen... you mean that cat boy?”

The knight, who almost never showed blood or tears toward anyone but his lord, for the first time frowned and hesitated.

“I’ve never heard anything about desert climates being particularly harmful to cats, but it could still be dangerous.”

“For everything else, it’s fine to continue working alone like before.

But I want those three to go in order to find out whether there might’ve been another Awakener present in that mid-zone caravan.”

The presence of another Awakener—understanding what that implied, Nathan Zuckerman’s expression shifted slightly.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

“Understood.

Even if I don’t know anything else, I’d recognize an Awakener the moment I see one.

That’s certainly worth checking.”

“Right.

And there’s more to ask Aton in the underground too.”

“You still need to rest.

Please take it easy with Lord Aile.”

Kishiar paused at the unexpected words, then pressed his lips together and let out a softened chuckle.

“Can’t believe I’m hearing that from you. Guess living long enough brings surprises.”

“I’ll make sure the task you entrusted me with is handled properly while you rest.”

“Good.

But don’t overexert yourself just because you don’t need much sleep.

Your injuries haven’t completely healed either.”

Kishiar’s gaze drifted to Nathan Zuckerman’s arm.

During the hailstorm night, Nathan had moved all over the place alone, saving many with just a single sword.

In the process, he’d been bitten by a monster on the arm.

Being a Swordmaster didn’t make him invincible.

That injury meant there had been a moment so critical that if Nathan hadn’t thrown out his arm, someone else would have died.

A normal person would have died instantly from such a bite.

Fortunately, Nathan’s wound had only required some medicine and light bandaging.

It was so minor it couldn’t be seen through his clothes, but Kishiar didn’t want his aide prioritizing duties over recovery.

Nathan Zuckerman glanced nonchalantly at his arm where Kishiar’s gaze had landed, then bowed his head.

“Thank you for your concern... but the wound from that time has mostly healed.

I’ve even resumed training, so don’t worry.

I plan to take care of my body from now on—I need to live a long time so I can continue serving you.”

With that, he turned and left.

Just like when he’d arrived, his shadow vanished without a sound, leaving only the two of them in the room once more.

Kishiar let out a faint chuckle as he recalled Nathan’s remark.

“That’s... quite the reassuring statement.”

To say he’d take care of his body because he intended to live long and work...

It clearly conveyed that he didn’t want to become another burden for his lord.

It wasn’t something Nathan usually said aloud, which only underscored how much he was affected by Yuder’s recent injuries and actions.

Kishiar looked down at Yuder’s pale face beside him and sighed softly.

Even thinking he hoped Yuder Aile would one day say something like that might be a luxury.

But surely it’s okay just to imagine it in his mind.

Kishiar quietly set that hope aside as a small, private goal—one day, to hear those words from Yuder.

Truthfully, there were quite a few such goals, all tied to Yuder, tucked away in his mind.

Some of them he knew would never come true.

Even so, people keep dreaming, because they know the joy of when even one such dream becomes real.

Even though the hope that Yuder would wake early hadn’t come true, unlike in the West, the hope that he would rest deeply and wake refreshed had more or less come to pass.

Then what about Kishiar la Orr of the previous game?

Had that man also projected dreams onto Yuder’s sleeping face, just like this?

What kind of dreams had he placed there—so heavy and deep that they still lingered in the dark even after death?

‘The pharmacist said my soul is normal.

So that presence must not be a part of my current self.’

Even so, Yuder was certain that the presence was another Kishiar.

And Kishiar, despite only having heard of it, could clearly feel that it was tied to his own identity.

Not from what he’d seen and experienced himself, but through the way it responded to Yuder—its behavior, its questions, and the answers it gave—it was unmistakable.

‘The question now is how to investigate it... That’s the real issue from here on.

It’d be great if it came to me, not just Yuder.’

Wanting to meet another version of oneself should have been enough to give anyone chills, yet Kishiar’s eyes held not a trace of fear.

As he gently stroked Yuder’s arm again, the shadow of the man lost in thought remained in place until nearly daybreak.