“Us?”
“Yeah. At the very end…”
Etna’s lips moved, but no sound followed. He couldn’t finish the sentence. His golden eyes, rippling like liquid sunlight, held a thousand unspoken things. Likely, something dire. Perhaps even deadly.
But Nigel had no clue what it could be.
At the time of Etna’s death, Nigel had been bedridden with a particularly nasty cold. Maybe trivial to others, but in his already fragile condition, it hit him hard. He seemed to recall hearing the news of Etna’s passing while half-delirious.
Feverish and disoriented, he’d somehow made it to the funeral. The hall had been packed with people in black. He remembered crying a lot. His mind had been so foggy that most of the day had passed in a blur. Honestly, he hadn’t cared about anyone else there. His attention had been wholly consumed by the cold coffin.
A sudden thought snapped him out of his daze.
“…Brother”
“Yeah?”
“Did I go to Mom’s funeral?”
Etna looked surprised by the abrupt shift to Rimera, but he quickly nodded.
“You did. You were really young, so you probably don’t remember. Why do you ask?”
“…No reason.”
His memories refused to surface, and instead, Nigel found himself fixating on that distant funeral. It was a cruel thing to admit, but even when faced with her ghost, he hadn’t recognized her—he had so few memories of his mother that he rarely thought of her. Still… maybe something had been buried deep inside, left behind like trauma.
Pushing aside those irrelevant thoughts about Rimera, Nigel tried once again to recall Etna’s final moments. But again, there was nothing. Not a single clear memory.
The tragic death of the proud eldest son, heir to the dukedom. It must have been a huge event, the funeral grand in scale. Even if he’d been bedridden, he should remember something. But his mind was blank. Nigel frowned in confusion.
“I… I really can’t remember. That day…”
“It’s okay, Nigel.”
Etna pulled him into a hug again. His voice was thick with tenderness and sorrow, too full to mistake. Like he wished he could shoulder all of Nigel’s pain for him. The embrace was warm, solid, comforting.
Despite the confusion swirling in his chest, Nigel leaned into him quietly. Etna gently patted his back with slow, steady hands.
“If you don’t remember, that’s fine. Don’t try to.”
“Why…? What happened?”
“It’s nothing. Just forget it. You were probably so shocked… you blocked it out.”
“What kind of thing would shock me like that?”
“Well… Nigel…”
Etna hesitated, and that only made Nigel more desperate to know. He gripped Etna tightly, pleading.
“It’s not something to do with Danil, is it?”
“What? No. Danil has nothing to do with it.”
Etna dismissed the idea as ridiculous.
“It was just between you and me. We… had a fight. A pretty big one. It’s not the kind of memory that does any good. Just pretend you never heard it, okay?”
Etna’s voice was unusually firm. Should he still press? He needed to know everything he could right now. Nigel opened his mouth, then closed it again.
Etna’s death happened before he ever met Inas. Meaning, it wasn’t related to this current Loop—it was just a private tragedy. Not relevant to solving anything now.
There was no need to dig into it and make Etna even more uncomfortable. If the fight had been so bad it caused Nigel to completely block it from his memory, it had to be terrible. He didn’t want to hurt Etna further.
“…Okay.”
“Good. Then, how about a short walk in the greenhouse?”
Inas was probably waiting… Still, he couldn’t say no to his brother, who was trying so hard to cheer him up. Nigel nodded. Etna beamed and squeezed his hand.
His mind was still a tangled mess. He gave up on asking directly, but there was no way he’d truly forget. His brother had far more secrets than he’d expected—like whatever had happened with Danil, and now this last moment he hinted at. There was definitely some kind of hidden Quest connected to the duchy.
It lingered in his mind, but Nigel pushed it aside, keeping up the act of a dutiful little brother. Etna would be busy trying to solidify his place as the heir while fighting off the bastard rumors—no need to make it harder for him now.
***
By midday, Nigel returned to his room completely exhausted. Etna had dragged him around under the pretense that exercise would help, but for someone as physically weak as Nigel, it had been a bit too much. He wasn’t on the verge of collapsing, but he could fall asleep instantly if he lay down.
Fortunately, the sight that greeted him was exactly what he needed to melt that exhaustion away.
Inas was lying on the bed, with Rhino curled up tightly into his side, sound asleep. Sure, one of them might’ve been a dangerously unstable maniac on the inside, but visually, the pair looked irresistibly adorable.
“You’re back.”
Inas didn’t even bother to sit up.
Nigel raised an eyebrow in mock offense.
“Greeting your master while lying down? How rude.”
“You like this view better than a formal greeting anyway.”
…Unfortunately, that was true, so Nigel had no retort. Clearing his throat a few times, he gently climbed into bed, careful not to wake Rhino, and lay down face to face with Inas. Rhino cracked one eye open, then promptly went back to sleep.
“He’s still out?”
“He was up until a little while ago. Played around a bit. Ate, too. He’ll probably be out for a while now.”
“Right…”
It was nearly lunchtime. Nigel reached out and gently stroked Rhino’s fur. It was warm and soft, and the sensation alone seemed to melt his fatigue away. He was enjoying it until he noticed a pair of persistent eyes on him. Feeling awkward, he stopped and turned to Inas.
“I think I’ll be heading to the capital once spring comes.”
Inas’s head snapped up. He looked genuinely surprised.
“…You didn’t know?”
“You told me not to use my powers.”
“I didn’t think you’d actually listen.”
Nigel muttered, bitterly amused. Just because he’d pitied Inas after seeing one of his past loops didn’t mean he’d suddenly trust him. His tone made that clear. Inas’s gaze softened with sympathy, and Nigel quickly shook his head.
“No—I mean, you did the right thing.”
He tossed out a light compliment, but Inas still looked like he wanted more. When Nigel stared at him, pretending not to notice, Inas lowered his eyes with an almost pitiful air.
“You’re not going to take me with you?”
“Of course I am. Don’t give me that look.”
“Yes, sir.”
Even his smile looked calculated. Somehow, his tricks were different now from when he was twenty-seven. Back then, he’d use dazzling bullshit to mess with Nigel’s head. But sixteen-year-old Inas leaned more into being pitiful.
And annoyingly, it worked way better.
This Inas, smaller and thinner than the one Nigel remembered, looked downright starved for affection when he lowered his gaze like that. It made Nigel want to cut off a piece of his own thigh and feed it to him.
Inas knew exactly how to manipulate him.
Nigel crumbled right in front of that face. He was far too weak to it. Determined not to fall under its spell, he turned his head away.
“Anyway, about Danil. It seemed like he and Etna knew each other… Is there something suspicious there?”
“He’s just a regular person.”
“A regular person?”
“You saw his Character Info Window yourself, didn’t you? He’s as average as they come.”
Nigel nodded. He’d asked just in case.
“He’s just really, really bad at his job. Other than that, he’s normal.”
“Still, something feels… off.”
Nigel squinted at him.
“You trying to kill Etna… is it related to whatever he and Danil are hiding?”
“…Yes.”
Inas answered after only a brief hesitation.
Etna and Danil were hiding something—a secret Nigel must never find out. Both Etna and Inas had reached the same conclusion. And the most foolproof way to protect a secret… is to kill anyone who knows it. That’s why Inas tried to kill Etna.
No—wait. That explanation didn’t fully hold up.
If Etna had kept this from Nigel for his sake, then the odds of him ever spilling it were slim. There was no reason to kill him over it. Unless…
Either the secret itself wasn’t just some simple fact, or its impact could become devastating under certain conditions. Or… Inas knew something more. It wasn’t a clean-cut situation.
“You’re not gonna tell me what it is, are you?”
“No.”
Wow. No hesitation. Nigel scowled but didn’t press further. He already knew Inas wouldn’t talk. And if Etna was hiding it too, it probably wasn’t anything that would help him.
He could always dig into it after this damn mess was resolved.
Right now, the priority was ending this godforsaken cycle. Since fulfilling Glarus’s Quest clearly wasn’t going to fix anything, he had no choice but to chase the absurd method Inas had mentioned.
“So what about you? You still going after those so-called Achievements?”
“Of course. I know you don’t trust me.”
Was it that obvious? Nigel scratched his cheek with a sheepish grin.
“Wow, you really know me.”
“I’ve observed you quite a few times now, Nigel. Of course I know.”
“But come on—if there’s no confirmed reward, how can it be a real solution?”
It was all smoke and mirrors. If anyone but Inas had suggested it, Nigel would’ve accused them of trying to scam him.
“There was a reward for completing them.”
“…You said it was a pointless system.”
“In terms of the ‘game’, yes. But to be precise, it wasn’t a reward per se—more like a new function unlocked when I get 99,999 Achievements. Just like how you gained access to the system’s Info Window, I got a slight ability to interfere with the system.”
“And you’re only telling me this now?!”
This was huge. Nigel’s tone sharpened. Inas looked apologetic.
“It sounds big, but it’s really minor. Nothing significant.”
“Which was?”
“I can loop just one year instead of ten. I don’t get to choose when—I’m limited to either returning to the year 272 or 283. And it has to be pre-set each time.”
“So this time, when we went back eleven years…”
“Yes. I died before I could change the setting.”
…Okay, that did make sense as to why he hadn’t mentioned it. Nigel, who was the one who’d killed him and triggered the 11-year reset, had no comeback for that. Sure, it was a fresh opportunity for him, but for Inas, it was just another rerun. Nigel sighed.
And something else was bugging him.
“Still… 99,999? That’s insane…”
He had no idea how easily Achievements could be earned, but that number was absurd. Even if you got dozens at once, it’d still take thousands of tries. Unthinkable.
“I think I’ll get another reward if I reach a few more.”
“How many do you have now?”
To Inas, even 99,999 was just a milestone. When Nigel asked, Inas suddenly looked like he’d rather not answer.
Nigel leaned in and grabbed him. Inas flinched like he’d been burned, black eyes dropping to avoid his gaze. Nigel lowered his head too, following his eyes.
“Be honest, Inas.”
“999,972.”
