Chapter 87:
If You Listen Well, I’ll Show You
“…”
A man stepped out of Tamber’s house.
The sword he sheathed emitted a chilling resonance.
The man walked forward. In a desolate area, void of houses and people, he removed his hood.
Golden hair gleamed brilliantly. A soft sigh escaped his beautiful face, his red lips parting slightly.
“It’s quite cold.”
It was the tail end of winter.
Ian gazed at the moon hanging in the night sky.
‘Riche mustn’t be cold.’
It had been half a year since Tita took Riche away.
Another year passed, making Ian 18 and Riche 17.
As long as he himself was alive and well, Riche couldn’t have died.
“They say the star will appear if Tita’s church collapses.”
A few weeks after he bit the neck of Hannivan, the chancellor of Udick Academy, Ian wandered across the Pan continent and coincidentally encountered Deon.
“What will you do?”
“I’ll live.”
“Do as you wish.”
After a brief meeting with Deon, Ian kept moving forward.
He fled from death and sought traces of Riche.
Pythonus, Hikenka—nowhere had any signs of her. But Ian did not despair.
“Iandwayne Gerwer.”
When anxiety struck, he would call his own name. Each time, he felt reassured by the looming presence of death.
Death still follows me.
His life and Riche’s remained tethered. Since Riche hadn’t died, he was still alive. Riche was alive.
As long as Riche lived for his sake, he wouldn’t falter.
“Morgan Dayal.”
At the sound of someone calling his name, Ian’s gaze sharpened.
He hadn’t noticed any presence until they were right behind him.
A formidable individual. Ian, with his hand gripping his sword, turned toward the one who had called him, only to release his grip moments later.
“…Duke Rodwick.”
Familiar red eyes, a face devoid of expression, and an aura of unattainable elegance from his memories.
In his early forties, Duke Rodwick still looked robust, though his appearance seemed somewhat haggard.
Come to think of it, this village was near the Rodwick estate.
Ian removed his hand from the hilt and greeted Blake.
Since he had been addressed as Morgan Dayal, Ian wondered briefly how to interact with Duke Rodwick. The deliberation was short-lived.
“I heard from Deon. You don’t use your old name anymore.”
“…Yes.”
Ian nodded. For some reason, a surge of emotion welled up within him.
Was it because Blake, whom he hadn’t seen in so long, had recognized him?
In his childhood, when Blake had given him a necklace to cure his sleepwalking, Ian had briefly wondered if this was what having a father felt like.
Blake had been the first adult to extend a hand to him.
“Have you eaten?”
“…No.”
Blake nodded as if he expected that answer.
Ian Was Just as Gaunt as Blake
Blake gestured toward a carriage parked in the distance and spoke.
“Stop by the house before you leave. I should at least treat my daughter’s friend to a meal.”
Ian bit his lip and nodded silently.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
“Open the door, Tita!”
Bang. Bang.
“Let me out!”
Outside the iron-barred cage, Riche stood at the foot of a staircase, pounding on the firmly shut basement door.
A rift in time. A space that resembled an illusion where everything was easily created and destroyed. Yet one thing—the door Riche was pounding on—was undeniably real.
“If you open that door, you can return to the human realm.”
Ever since she heard those words from Hikenka, Riche had been desperately calling out to Tita while pounding on the door.
The urgency in her voice came from two things:
First, that Pythonus from her previous life had fallen asleep.
And second, the irregular passage of time between this place and the human realm.
“Time flows unpredictably here, unlike outside. It might seem like you just arrived, but days, months, or even years could have passed in the human realm.”
“I have to go back! Tita, please!”
“You’re full of energy, Rithiom.”
Hikenka, seated on a chair, waved his hand lazily in the air.
As he imagined what he desired, the old table disappeared, replaced by an elegant tea table.
In the rift of time, as long as Tita didn’t interfere, one could create whatever they wanted.
Hikenka picked up a teacup filled with warm tea.
Although he seemed calm and composed, his situation was far from ideal.
‘I only managed to retrieve that wretched beast from the glass vial.’
And even that, he hadn’t restored to its original soul but left it as a fragment of thought.
What Hikenka had demanded from Tita was the Iandwayne of this era, offered to him as a sacrifice.
However, upon learning of Tita’s true intentions, Hikenka had broken their agreement.
Tita, in turn, attempted to trap Hikenka in the rift of time to thwart his interference.
Sensing her plan, Hikenka tried to release other great stars from their glass prisons but only succeeded in shattering Kaishan’s vial.
‘Failure.’
Hikenka bristled with frustration.
For the stars, all that remained was time, and their only amusement was the pitiful spectacle of the human realm.
‘I don’t care about being trapped, but I can’t stand by and watch Tita become a god.’
It wasn’t because he feared the collapse of the world if the balance were broken.
Whether the human realm perished or the tombs crumbled, it wasn’t his concern.
He simply couldn’t tolerate the idea of Tita, who had ruined his plans, ascending to godhood.
‘How much time has passed in the human realm? Even if years have gone by, Tita won’t have become a complete god yet.’
Bang. Bang.
“Tita! Let me out!”
‘To become a complete god, her name must be sung in praise for at least a century.’
Bang. Bang.
“I must go back!”
‘Even if Tita temporarily gains power through her church, she can always be dragged back as a star—’
Bang.
“Rithiom, you’re noisy.”
