Chapter 79:
You’re Withdrawing?
Even after that, Riche and Python continued to visualize only the memories involving Hikenka.
Aside from the memories Python had discovered, they couldn’t find anything about Trariche in the glass fragments.
“What Hikenka saw… it was definitely me at 19.”
To be precise, it was Agnes at 19—locked in a cage in the basement of the Gerwer Duke’s mansion.
Seated at the desk, Riche gazed into the glass fragment within the ornament, reflecting her face. But unlike the mirror she had seen six years ago in the Gerwer estate, the black glass fragment revealed nothing.
“Why was I inside that glass fragment?”
“It’s the Insight.”
Python murmured.
Insight—the ability of the Hikenka wielded by the skilled individuals of the Gerwer Duke’s family.
“That yellow-eyed brat saw what was hidden in the fragment,” Python explained.
After pondering his words, Riche asked, “Would Ian have seen it too?”
“If that was your past self, then no.”
Python stated firmly.
“The unique traits of the stars can’t be fully utilized by anyone but their original owner, no matter how much power is inherited.”
Even though the Gerwer heirs could use Hikenka’s abilities, the remnants of the power were limited to their human vessels.
“The star fragments are similar. While their unique traits can be utilized, no one can harness even 10% of their original strength.”
“So, you’re saying Ian’s Insight is weaker than the yellow-eyed brat’s?”
“Exactly. That brat can see the past, and sometimes even the future. Ian’s Insight, at best, is limited to discerning truths and lies or perceiving the reality right before his eyes.”
So Ian wouldn’t have seen Agnes in the glass fragment.
Leaning forward on the desk, Riche tapped it with her index finger.
Her gaze shifted sideways, landing on the ornament.
“What do I do now?”
Though she had discovered her past self within the glass fragment, it was merely a piece of unknown truth. She had no idea where to start unraveling it. It felt like a massive tangle of thread had appeared before her, with both the start and end meticulously hidden.
“My entwined fate with Ian, the death that follows him, my death at 19, the Tita religion, my past self in the mirror, Hikenka’s whereabouts, the true forms of the stars within Deon, Lovenhalf, and Sieg…”
Riche turned her gaze to Python.
Python, sitting before the ornament, seemed equally lost in thought.
“Python, could my past self have been related to the star that created Retiom?”
“I can’t say no.”
As far as Python knew, this was Retiom’s second life.
When it came to time, only that fool could meddle.
Or should he stop calling him a fool? What was going on with him, anyway?
“At first, I just wanted to understand why he revived Retiom.”
Python was worried that the dormant one had overexerted his power.
Curiosity also lingered—what was so important about this era’s Retiom?
Honestly, in the beginning, Python thought all his questions would be answered within a few years. Then, he could annul the contract and return to his tomb.
“If I hadn’t met Retiom by the lakeside, I’d still be in the tomb, clueless about everything.”
Whether today was tomorrow, tomorrow was today, or whether it was a hundred years later or earlier—it didn’t matter.
He had spent thousands of years in monotony, leading an uneventful existence.
“The tomb?”
A thought suddenly struck Python like a spark.
The fusion of the stars. Come to think of it, hadn’t he done something like that with the yellow-eyed brat?
“Contractor! I’ve made up my mind!”
Python sprang up from his seat.
Riche, startled, sat up as well.
“What decision?”
With a confident smirk, Python declared, “Let’s go after that yellow-eyed brat first.”
One of the many training grounds in Kselphon.
“Explain yourself, Morgan Dayal.”
This felt eerily similar to a previous incident.
Morgan met the crimson eyes glaring at him without flinching.
“Explain yourself, Morgan Dayal. Are you dating my sister?”
That misunderstanding had arisen in a café when Derkedeon thought Riche and Morgan were romantically involved.
The difference now?
“Are you my sister’s enemy?”
“No, I am not.”
Morgan faced Deon with their swords crossed.
The blades clashed with equal force and pushed apart simultaneously. A perfect stalemate.
“…”
“…”
They quickly created some distance, adjusting their stances and preparing for the next strike.
Their faces were void of any amusement.
Deon’s sharp crimson eyes and Morgan’s icy golden gaze locked onto each other, calculating the next move.
Without hesitation, both charged forward simultaneously, feet pounding against the ground.
“Brother!”
With a Bang, the Training Room Door Swung Open
It was Riche.
Both Morgan and Deon flinched in surprise and immediately shifted their attention, coming to a halt.
Deon subtly slid his drawn sword back into its sheath.
‘What’s with this guy?’
He glanced to his side, noticing that Morgan, too, had sheathed his sword. Deon frowned.
To make matters worse, Morgan wasn’t paying any attention to him anymore. His gaze was fixed on the open door, smiling warmly at Riche.
‘That brat’s Hannibal’s dog…’
Seeing Morgan practically wag his tail made Deon think Riche, not Hannibal, was the true master here.
Deon decided to temporarily set aside his hostility toward Morgan. He planned to interrogate him again when Riche wasn’t around.
Meanwhile, Morgan called out to Riche.
“Riche.”
“Morgan?”
Spotting Morgan, Riche’s eyes widened in surprise.
Only then did she realize she was still holding the training room door she had boldly flung open. Embarrassed, she quietly lowered her arm.
‘I can’t believe I just did something I’d only do to Deon in front of Ian. How embarrassing.’
‘I didn’t know Ian was here, too.’
Earlier, she had run into Philip by chance. He’d mentioned that Deon was training in the nearby building, so she thought he was alone and confidently opened the door.
‘Oh, right. The ornament.’
Riche suddenly remembered the ornament in her pocket that belonged to Morgan.
She had planned to return it after finishing her business with Deon, but since Morgan was here, it was the perfect opportunity.
“Morgan, thank you so much for this.”
Riche held out the ornament to Morgan.
Lending her something so precious, handcrafted by Hamad, meant a lot to her.
Grateful, Riche wanted to express her sincerity. She clasped Morgan’s hand, the one now holding the ornament, with both of hers.
“Truly.”
Both Morgan and Deon watched as Riche firmly held Morgan’s hand.
Morgan’s pulse quickened, and Deon’s eye twitched.
Philip, who had followed Riche into the room, noticed this and was about to intervene, but a sharp glance from Deon stopped him in his tracks.
“I’ll make sure to repay you later.”
“It’s fine.”
“No, it’s not.”
Riche spoke firmly. While Ian had lived such a hard life, she felt she hadn’t done anything for him.
“Please let me repay you.”
“…Alright.”
Morgan hadn’t expected such a resolute response over lending her the ornament.
Overwhelmed by Riche’s determination, Morgan found himself nodding awkwardly.
And Finally, Deon Spoke Up, Having Reached His Limit.
“You—”
“Brother, just a moment.”
Before Deon could finish, Riche grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the training room.
Morgan, left behind, watched the door through which Riche had disappeared. His gaze eventually fell on Philip, who was standing by the doorway, their eyes locking.
Philip. A knight who had served as Riche’s attendant during her time at the Imperial Academy.
Morgan had a bit of history with him. Philip had been the one who helped rescue him when he fell into the lake, alongside Riche.
“Young Master Gerwer, you’ve been sleeping well lately, haven’t you?”
Philip had always been amicable toward him, even now when they met as assistant instructor and competitor.
Feeling the familiar camaraderie, Morgan greeted him cheerfully.
“Hello, Assistant Instructor Philip.”
Philip, however, did not return the greeting. Instead, he fixed Morgan with an icy stare.
“If you mess around with our lady—”
“…?”
“I’ll repay it tenfold. Hannibal’s dog.”
Philip then raised his thumb and drew it across his throat in a threatening gesture before leaving the room to follow Riche.
Morgan, left to process the open hostility, scratched his cheek with a wry smile.
Riche led Deon into another building.
It was the same place where she had once gotten covered in breadcrumbs.
The building was as deserted as before. After closing the door behind them, Riche stopped and turned to face Deon.
“Brother.”
“I didn’t pick a fight.”
“?”
Riche paused at his unexpected words.
Deon, clearly displeased, added reluctantly.
“I didn’t pick a fight with Morgan Dayel.”
Ah. Riche understood what he was getting at and nodded.
So he was worried about that. But Riche hadn’t brought Deon here for that reason.
“That’s not why I brought you here.”
“Then what?”
“I’m going home for a bit.”
“…?”
Deon blinked, not comprehending her words.
Home?
“What about Creselphon?”
Even though Riche had passed the preliminaries, the tournament rules forbade participants from leaving the city until the finals were over.
Hesitating at first, Riche finally met Deon’s gaze and declared,
“I’m forfeiting.”
“What?”
The surprised outburst came not from Deon, but from Philip.
Having followed them inside and shut the door tightly to prevent eavesdropping, Philip now stepped closer to Riche.
“M-my lady, you’re forfeiting?”
“Yes.”
Riche answered firmly.
She had hesitated to speak because she felt guilty about giving up, but her decision was already made.
‘I have to go to the Forest of Beasts.’
Python had devised a way to track down Hikenka.
“The unraveling of the stellar fusion is unique to the old man in the tomb.”
“Old man?”
“It’s a nickname. He’s been like an old man ever since his days as a god. Looks, personality, everything. Anyway, that old man likely has it.”
“Has what?”
“A fragment of that yellow bastard’s soul. It’s his hobby to pluck out a bit of soul while unraveling fusions. It’s usually forbidden, but it’s harmless—like pulling out a single strand of hair—so we let it slide for the past few centuries. Guess it’s coming in handy now.”
Because the other stars had slumbered for centuries, Python, as the sole active guardian of the Stars’ Tomb, could take advantage of this quirk.
Python had chuckled, claiming it was all thanks to his foresight.
“But Python, what’s the point of having that soul fragment?”
“What’s the point? Did you forget my unique trait? With a soul fragment, finding that yellow brat through stellar detection is a piece of cake.”
If Python could retrieve Hikenka’s soul fragment from the tomb, he could use it to locate Hikenka.
Though the Creselphon tournament was important, waiting until the finals to search for Hikenka would be too late.
Amid this tangled web of complications, Riche had found a knot she absolutely had to untie.
‘I have to find Hikenka and learn the truth. What is Titar’s star trying to accomplish?’
Why was I sent back in time?
Why did that star intertwine Ian’s fate with mine in this rewritten past?
Why did the 19-year-old Agnes appear in the mirror at the Gerwer estate?
…
There were countless “whys” to unravel, but they would come later.
“Still, my lady,” Philip said wistfully.
“You were supposed to crush that damned Hannibal’s dog in the finals.”
I mean, I’ll crush him myself, but still… Philip thought.
Her victory, holding the championship cup high, was as clear as day in his mind.
“Such a shame—”
“Let her do as she pleases,” Deon interrupted Philip’s lament.
