Instead of Inas, who accepted the punishment without protest, it was Nigel who suddenly shot up in anger.
“Hold on. Why’s Inas getting punished when I was the one who messed up—”
“I’m fine, young master.”
Nigel glared fiercely at Inas, who responded so meekly, but quickly realized he wasn’t in any position to glare.
Roshan couldn’t punish Nigel directly. When it’s tricky to reprimand someone in a higher position, it’s fairly common for the subordinate to take the fall. His father used that method often. They’d even butted heads over it before. Though in this case, Ruder probably hadn’t ordered it himself.
A heavy sigh escaped him. Stable chores, of all things. It was clear they’d make him do heavy cleaning early in the morning just for the sake of punishment. Nigel deflated, guilt pressing down on him, and even Roshan’s stern expression softened a bit.
“It won’t be anything too harsh. There’s much to learn during the day, after all. Please don’t worry and get some rest for now.”
“If you’re going to make it that rough, just punish me instead.”
“Ha… In that case, I’ll take my leave now.”
“Wait.”
Nigel stopped Roshan as he tried to escape an uncomfortable question.
“What happened with Sir Schumacher?”
“Ah. I handed him over to the steward. He’ll take care of everything. It’s already late, so let’s leave it at that for tonight. You can meet with him tomorrow.”
“Yeah, alright.”
Flawless handling, nothing to criticize. Roshan gave a respectful bow and withdrew.
As if prearranged, only Nigel and Inas were left in the room.
Feeling the tension settle, Nigel snuck a glance at Inas. Their eyes met—Inas’s gaze cool and unreadable.
Without a word, Inas approached and extended his hand toward Nigel. Startled, Nigel flinched, but all Inas did was help undress him with his usual practiced ease. Neither rushed nor sluggish, his hands removed Nigel’s clothes until only his shirt remained. Then he fetched Nigel’s nightwear.
“Would you like to wash up before changing?”
His tone was perfectly composed, leaving no room for ambiguity. But there was no way that was all he wanted to say. Nigel stared at him in silence, but Inas stood there holding the nightwear as if oblivious to everything else.
He didn’t want things to just trail off awkwardly. In the end, Nigel had to throw himself into the flames and start the conversation.
“You’re seriously not gonna say anything?”
Inas let out a low sigh and looked Nigel over.
“Do you want me to ask?”
“It’s better to be clear than have regrets later.”
“Then… did you go to see Glarus?”
“Yeah.”
“I see.”
“You’re not going to ask anything else?”
He wasn’t about to let it end with that utterly hollow response, not when nothing had been resolved.
Nigel’s voice was sharp, almost provoking him. Inas’s hands stilled. His eyes grew cold—so cold that Nigel couldn’t understand how he ever intended to let this pass without a word. The Inas who usually spoke bluntly now hesitated several times, lips twitching before he finally said:
“If I asked what kind of scheming you did with Glarus… I’d probably want to kill you. So I’m holding back.”
Nigel had been prepared to let him speak freely, to tolerate whatever came. But he still felt a surge of emotion before Inas could even finish.
If that’s his filtered version, how much worse was the original?
Furious, Nigel snapped:
“So it’s that easy for you to just kill me?”
“Yes. Your life isn’t worth much, after all.”
“….”
Nigel barely held back a curse and unconsciously bit his thumbnail. Inas reached out and gently pulled his hand down, but the tender gesture did nothing to calm the turmoil inside.
That damn “worth.”
Nigel almost wanted to show Inas his life’s monetary value. As heir to the Magnus Duchy and a divine messenger, his head had to be worth at least several hundred million Rubel.
But then, that only made him feel even more pathetic. No matter the value, Inas would still snuff out his life without hesitation. And if the world Reset, all that money would vanish anyway. It wouldn’t mean a damn thing to Inas.
“We didn’t scheme. I just had something I had to ask Glarus. That’s why I went.”
“I see.”
“You really won’t ask anything else?”
“No.”
“Even if I said this Loop is the last one?”
At the sharp edge in Nigel’s voice, Inas’s eyebrows twitched slightly. He chewed over Nigel’s words a few times before repeating them.
“The last Loop?”
“Yeah.”
“Don’t tell me… that’s what you went to talk to Glarus about?”
“Yeah. He said this world has hit its limit.”
The words flowed so easily from his tongue that Nigel could hardly believe it. He’d expected some kind of restriction to stop him from saying this. Was this a glitch? Was he being allowed to speak by mistake? He rushed to continue while he still could.
“I actually found something here in the mansion. A thing called Save Data.”
“Save Data?”
“Yeah. It was a book that compiled all the past records. Its title was literally Save Data. And in it, there were records of all your previous Returns. But here’s the problem—it didn’t have space for the 100,000th Loop. There was no slot left for it.”
He managed to get everything out. Nigel was slightly out of breath from speaking so fast. Inas stared at him, unreadable.
After a long pause, he spoke with an odd look on his face.
“There was such a book?”
“You didn’t know?”
“No.”
Inas’s quick answer wasn’t one of surprise or fascination. Instead, his eyes were full of doubt, as if wondering what the hell Nigel was babbling about.
Nigel didn’t trust that response. The book had been sitting right there in the study, and Inas, who’d gone through 100,000 Loops, claimed he’d never seen it? Sure, Nigel had never noticed it either until now, but Inas had always been deeply tied to the system. He had to have come across it at some point.
Suspicion passed between them like static. Nigel clicked his tongue.
So this is where we stand—zero trust.
“It’s in the study. You really haven’t seen it?”
“Never.”
Hard to believe. But Inas wasn’t the type to feign ignorance if he actually knew. Nigel finally concluded that he truly didn’t know.
Which meant there was only one thing to do.
“Come with me.”
Maybe if he showed him in person, Inas would believe him. Even if they couldn’t read the contents, the book’s presence alone would lend credibility to Nigel’s words.
They passed the guards now stationed along the hallway and entered the study. It was silent inside.
Nigel scanned the dim room. Rimera’s presence had completely vanished while he was gone. A twinge of guilt surfaced—he hadn’t even recognized his mother. Once again, he’d pushed it aside for other matters.
But that wasn’t the priority now. He led Inas to the spot where he’d left the book and lifted the lantern to check.
“…”
It was gone.
The book that should’ve been there—wasn’t.
He knew he’d left it right there. Panic creeping in, Nigel started scanning the area. But there wasn’t even a trace left.
“The book’s gone?”
“Hold on.”
He waved off Inas and began tearing through the study. Checked the shelves again. Even the narrow gaps beneath them. No sign of the book. Maybe it had automatically gone into his inventory?
He opened the window—but nothing there either.
It had disappeared completely while he was out.
“Wh-Where did it go…”
“Nigel…”
Inas’s voice held a trace of pity. Nigel frantically shook his head.
“Someone must’ve taken it while I was out!”
“From the Duke of Magnus’s study?”
“No… I mean, of course not.”
Breaking into the Magnus Duchy’s study during an emergency lockdown? Impossible. Especially after Nigel’s disappearance—security would’ve been doubled.
Nigel knew his argument was flimsy. Still… he’d seen it. He knew it was real.
Inas watched him, then shrugged and arrived at a conclusion that Nigel did not like.
“Nigel. Are you sure you didn’t fall for some trick from Glarus?”
“No! I saw it!”
“Glarus has always been a con artist.”
“You called him the god who maintains the world’s balance!”
“And his tongue is deceitful. Besides, since you’re partially under Glarus’s control, it wouldn’t be hard for him to show you an illusion.”
“It wasn’t an illusion! I really saw it. It was right here. I saw it, and that’s why I went to him. It’s not that he tricked me, it’s—”
“Nigel…”
The same Inas who’d threatened to kill him just minutes ago now looked at him with nothing but pity. The kind of look you’d give someone who’d been conned into buying fake immortality water for ten gold coins.
Honestly, the murderous glare was better than this. Nigel practically jumped out of his skin.
“I’m telling you I really saw it!”
“Understood. Yes. Of course you did.”
Inas’s tone was the gentle condescension of someone humoring a child. It was infuriating.
“I DID!”
But without evidence, there was no convincing anyone. Nigel got so worked up he staggered from dizziness. His strength drained, his body sagged helplessly.
Inas caught him in his arms.
“I believe you, so rest now, Nigel.”
“…”
No you don’t. You don’t believe me at all.
It was kind, but it wasn’t comforting. Nigel felt a swirl of conflicting emotions.
Where the hell did it go? It wasn’t a hallucination…
