Chapter 869

A consciousness, long dormant, began to resurface slowly.

Yuder opened his eyes in the pitch-black darkness.

'Where is this...'

He was in a space so unknown that he couldn't tell if he was standing, sitting, or even floating in mid-air. It was a place so cold, ominous, and quiet that it was terrifying. Yuder faintly recalled having been in this space before.

Immediately, what reflexively came to mind was the afterimage of white gloves he had encountered in a place just like this.

Yuder looked around sharply, on high alert. Not far off, he spotted two pale hands.

"..."

They seemed to exist quietly, as if waiting for Yuder to become aware of them. As his gaze met them, the hands slightly moved their fingers in greeting. Yes, they were unmistakably 'greeting' him.

How could one think of any other meaning to the gesture of a hand standing upright with four fingers waving softly like a gentle breeze? The gesture was so reminiscent of the hand greetings Kishiar La Orr would give when he used to secretly visit Yudrain Aile, casually greeting through the window, that Yuder momentarily found himself breathless.

No words seemed adequate to describe his feelings at that moment.

'Why am I seeing that here again? I was certain that...'

A funeral. The temple. The harsh hail. The pitch-black sky. The sage and Nahan. Battle.

A crack floating above the temple.

The red blood covering half of Kishiar's face.

The touch of his hand that drew Yuder close for support.

Memories jumbled chaotically in his confused mind, stopping at the touch of the man's hand that had wrapped around his shoulder.

Given that he could not recall anything thereafter, was Yuder Aile now unconscious? If so, was this a repetition of a dream he had before? Or was it a new dream due to the appearance of the anomalous crack?

'Probably the latter... most likely.'

Though his memory was hazy, Yuder was certain he had never seen those hands greet in such a manner before. He silently observed the two hands slowly approaching him.

Just watching them was still instinctively unsettling, but it was not as shockingly surprising as before. Even the strong, foul smell that grew more intense as they drew closer was bearable.

'It seems I've adapted to all sorts of things in life.'

The hands in the white gloves seemed to sense Yuder's change as well. The hand that had stopped right in front of him hesitated momentarily, then slowly circled around him. Yet, as Yuder remained still without showing any reaction, the air faintly trembled. As if an invisible breath were flowing, the surrounding chill deepened slightly.

However, that chill vanished abruptly as if blocked by something, right after Yuder involuntarily shivered once.

'...'

"Excuse me."

Before the white-gloved hand could show any new movement, Yuder hesitated, then finally opened his mouth to speak. He was curious if he could make a sound, and surprisingly, his voice came out clear. It sounded muffled and didn't travel far, as if he was speaking underwater, but it quickly faded away. Nonetheless, it was enough if only the white gloves understood him.

"What is this place? Who are you, and why are we here like this? Is this a dream or reality? Is it okay to ask why only your hands are here? I am......."

Before he could finish his question, the approaching white glove touched Yuder's hand, halting his inquiry momentarily. The gloved hand slowly grasped Yuder's left hand and raised it with the palm facing upward. Enduring the goosebumps, Yuder remained still as the other hand approached and touched its index finger there.

'There's no point in repeating an already given answer.'

The finger moved slowly but surely, writing characters that anyone familiar with the script would recognize. Even in such an unrealistic situation, the movements were as smooth and graceful as a dance.

'It could be either.'

'Or neither.'

"...What does that mean?"

Yuder wondered if the meaning behind these words would have been clearer if Kishiar had been there, but with only this, he couldn't grasp the full significance.

As he furrowed his brow in thought, the finger continued to write without pause.

Yuder followed the trajectory of the writing with his eyes, reading it laboriously in his mind.

'You are here'

'Because you came.'

"...I came here?"

Unable to comprehend, Yuder reflexively lifted his head and questioned back. Meanwhile, the fingers of the white glove moved swiftly.

'So'

'Go back.'

'Don't come'

'Ever again.'

Ever again.

The finger, having finished spelling the words, pressed down on Yuder's palm hard enough to hurt, as if punctuating a sentence. It felt as if something was binding him from that spot, making Yuder flinch. Then, the hand clenched into a fist and completely detached itself.

Suddenly, both hands came up before Yuder's eyes - and before he could properly react, they pushed him hard in the chest, sending him tumbling backward.

It felt as though he had been floating weightlessly, but the moment he was pushed, the forgotten weight of his body became vividly apparent. As he swallowed his breath, his body, still tilted in the pushed posture, began to fall into darkness.

"Ah..."

Unlike ordinary falls, there was no wind brushing against his body in this fall. The absence of a sensation that should have been natural felt strange and eerie.

Yet, the sensation of falling was dizzyingly clear.

The white hand, frozen in the pushing gesture, quickly receded into the distance.

For a brief moment, Yuder saw something writhing in the darkness beyond the white hand.

Something he had seen somewhere before.

That was all he could think of.

"..."

Gasping, Yuder opened his eyes once more. This time, what he first saw was not the ominous darkness with a fishy smell.

As his vision, blurred at first, blinked into clarity, Yuder's eyes caught the sight of complex patterns inspired by plants and the tiny fairies adorning the edges. It was none other than the elegant ceiling of the Southern Branch of the Cavalry. The moment he realized this, the buzzing sound around him suddenly amplified, piercing his ears.

"Ah! Yuder! Mr. Yuder has awakened!"

Turning towards the source of the voice, Yuder, with still slightly fuzzy vision, recognized the familiar green hair. It was undoubtedly Lusan.

"Where!"

"What? Mr. Yuder has woken up?"

"Out of the way, you brats! You can wait! Just scram!"

After a few thuds and bangs, the curtain was roughly pushed aside, allowing a new figure to enter. Enon, looking much more haggard than the last time Yuder saw him, glared down with dark shadows under his eyes.

"...You."

"..."

"First, you're going to take some punishment from me."

As Enon reached out to grab Yuder's face, Lusan leaped in, desperately trying to stop him.

"No, Mr. Enon! No matter how angry you are, you promised to wait at least a week!"

"Someone stop the pharmacist!"

A group rushed in, indiscriminately grabbing Enon's arms to restrain him.

Consequently, the make-shift curtain and rod surrounding Yuder's bed collapsed, causing damage. While Yuder remained unharmed, a few of those who fell entangled in the curtain rod complained of wrist and body pains. As Lusan, unsure of what to do, poured divine power into them, Yuder realized with surprise that the chilling effects of his nightmare had completely vanished.

"Damn it... Damn. First, get those brats out. Now!"

"But these people are patients too!"

"I don't care! If they can get better with divine power, they're not patients to me! Get out!"

Watching Enon rage and curse, Yuder slowly swallowed his saliva a few times before opening his mouth.

"...En, on."

"...."

His voice was more a rasp, barely louder than a whisper, but it was enough to stop Enon in his tracks. Turning sharply, Enon faced Yuder, who once again spoke through the pain in his throat.

"...Where is… Commander…"

"..."

Unsurprisingly, these words once again ignited Enon's anger.

It was only after several minutes had passed, when the Cavalry members had been sent away and the surroundings tidied up, that they could engage in a proper conversation.