Turning Chapter 988

“How exactly do you plan to rescue the beauty trapped in a tower who can’t be reached from this side, my aide?”

Yuder had long grown used to Kishiar’s way of speaking and acting—but even so, there were tis when he just couldn’t let sothing slide. This was one of them.

“...The beauty in the tower, sir?”

“Well, even if all that's left is a hand, the body still has this face, doesn’t it?”

“......”

Kishiar shalessly tapped his cheek with a finger and smiled. There wasn’t a hint of embarrassnt in his blinking eyes. Yuder looked at that face and thought silently:

...Well, {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} he’s not wrong. If anything, it fits too well. That’s the problem.

The phrase “beauty in the tower” was a widely known expression derived from an old story about a woman imprisoned in the Resien Tower—where nobles were often confined. Even the priest of House Apeto, Beltreil, who had been killed by Naham, had once been imprisoned there before his death. The place had a long, grim history.

In the legend, the woman was fad for her beauty. When her lover was falsely accused, she volunteered to be imprisoned in his place until he could return and prove his innocence. While such substitution was rare now, back then it was more common—as a kind of hostage or pledge.

Originally, she was to be jailed in a standard cell, but due to nurous incidents caused by her exceptional beauty, she was eventually relocated to the top of the tower.

Had the lover returned and cleared his na, she could’ve walked free. But no matter how long she waited, he never ca back. Whether he had run or t so misfortune, no one knew. Because he never returned, she remained trapped. Though many pitied her and begged for her release, she refused.

Her last words were simply that she believed in his innocence, and so she would wait in the tower until his return. No one could drag her out by force. She had chosen that imprisonnt herself and rejected the pity of others.

Even now, when people ntioned a “beauty in the tower,” they always thought of her.

A beautiful soul who chose to remain locked away to uphold her belief.

Even if that belief ant waiting forever for soone who would never return, she bore no resentnt. Instead, she faded into obscurity on her own terms.

...Wasn’t that far too similar to soone else?

Yuder stared at Kishiar’s smiling face for a while, then finally spoke.

“Every ti I’ve gone there, it’s been connected to an anomalous rift.”

It had always been just after one erupted, or just before one did.

His health had often been in poor condition during those tis—but not the last ti. So, he set that aside as a common thread.

“Even though we stopped the Southern Earthquake, there are still many disasters I rember. I can no longer predict what will co first... but I did learn sothing I hadn’t known before.”

“The cause,” Kishiar said, emphasizing the word.

Yuder nodded.

“Yes. I learned that soone had deliberately disrupted the balance of the southern lands to accelerate the rifts’ appearance. And I don’t believe they’ll stop just because we foiled them this ti.”

The Wolf’s Eye tribe from the Southern Nation, with Aton at the center.

If they had done the sa thing in his previous life—intentionally triggering disasters—then it was likely they would try again.

“From what I heard, they’ve been planning this for years. There’s no way they’ll give up just because of one or two failures.”

People like that wouldn’t have devoted such a long ti to the effort if they were so easily discouraged. And Yuder had already lived through the tiline where all of their plans had succeeded—he’d seen what ca of it.

“So as long as they keep going, I’ll keep stopping them. And that ans I’ll continue encountering anomalous rifts.”

“And each ti, you might have the chance to reach the beauty beyond the rift?”

“For now... I believe so.”

Even though the hand in the white glove had seed to wish he wouldn’t return, well—what could he do?

“We’ll need to begin formal research into the anomalous rifts, then.”

“That, too... but...”

Yuder paused there, drawing a breath. His gaze settled into sothing quieter, more serious.

What he was about to say was likely sothing Kishiar would not take well.

“If I co across another rift... I’m considering attempting direct contact.”

“...Direct contact?”

“If it’s a stable rift and no monsters are erging, it might be possible to physically cross it.”

It was an idea he wouldn’t have even considered, had he not seen that strange, sea-connected rift in his recent dream.

Unlike regular ones, anomalous rifts often lingered in one place for long periods. If the space beyond really was the dark realm where the hand in the white glove existed, then maybe—just maybe—it was possible to cross over.

Of course, no one knew where or when the next rift would appear, nor what would happen during such a crossing.

“I know it’s a reckless thought. But if we gather all the data we can about the rifts, and figure out how this world is connected to what lies beyond... maybe we can find a thod.”

“So you do know it’s reckless.”

Kishiar’s expression didn’t change, but his voice was firm.

“And you’re saying all this fully aware of how dangerous it is?”

Of course. He knew all too well. He had stood before one of those massive rifts just days ago—vast and terrifying enough to cause fear just by looking at it.

Rifts—big or small—evoked primal dread in all who saw them. They were unnatural tears in reality, like sacs pregnant with monsters yet to be born. That they were dangerous was a given.

Even Yuder had never once thought, “I want to get closer to that.” His first instinct had always been to destroy them as quickly as possible.

In his previous life, he had investigated anomalous rifts and heard countless horror stories of people who vanished without a trace after carelessly approaching one. He had only seen one himself, briefly, before it vanished—but the instinctive dread he’d felt then had remained with him even through death and reincarnation.

And now that he’d seen more of them, his wariness hadn’t lessened. If anything, it had grown.

These were not benign phenona. They were ons—foreboding, unnatural, and threatening. The start of every great disaster.

And yet—

“I do understand. But still, I don’t think it’s wrong to keep this as one of our options. After all... if I want to bring the beauty out of the tower, wouldn’t that be the bare minimum? Not that I plan to die, so don’t worry.”

“That sounds not unlike soone saying, ‘If I get a chance to look into the valley, I might as well jump off the cliff.’ But... I understand.”

“......”

Kishiar’s calm voice delivered a reply that was nothing short of icy. He gazed at Yuder in thought, eyes steady.

“Still, I’m glad I asked first.”

His expression held a mix of unreadable emotions. A sigh—half laughter—slipped between his lips. Then his voice softened.

“I haven’t heard of anyone currently conducting serious research into the rifts, but we might find so old records in the Pearl Tower’s ancient archives. And more importantly... we still have the research journal of the first Duke Ta-in, and clues connected to Archmage Luma’s studies.”

“Yes. I’ll definitely look into those.”

“Good. Be sure to consult the pharmacist as well. Discuss any plans together. And don’t move alone. This isn’t an order—it’s a request.”

He said it wasn’t an order, but the weight on the word “definitely” made Yuder feel otherwise. Perhaps he’d been a little hasty in bringing up his idea of crossing the rift.