Nigel had a dream for the first time in a while. It wasn’t anything symbolic or meaningful.
In the dream, he was talking to a wall. Absurdly enough, he was trying to persuade the wall—but of course, a wall wouldn’t listen to a person. He got so frustrated while talking that he grabbed a hammer to smash it, only for the wall to suddenly morph into Inas before he could swing. Startled, Nigel dropped the hammer—and woke up.
“What a shit dream…”
Still, it had felt oddly real. He must’ve been seriously pent up to dream something like that.
An old man’s opinions don’t change easily. Nigel didn’t know Inas’s exact age, but if he rounded it out to one year per loop, the guy was pushing a hundred thousand. That age gap was so absurd it gave Nigel the chills.
Anyway, no creature that ancient was going to change his ways. There was no point in hanging his hopes on the impossible. It was better to treat Inas like a beast that couldn’t be tamed—just keep a firm grip on the reins and steer him in the right direction when needed.
He glanced toward the window. The sun was already up. Nigel slowly changed his clothes and headed downstairs.
The moment he stepped outside, guards began trailing after him wherever he went. It was annoying, but he had it coming after yesterday’s stunt. So he kept quiet and took the lead.
He headed to the stables. The one where Inas was currently working as punishment from Roshan.
It was annoying how Inas never listened, but that didn’t mean Nigel wanted to see him getting pushed around. He was here to pull him out at the right time.
Nigel thought he’d come early, but Inas had nearly finished cleaning. He must’ve worked pretty hard—his thin shirt was streaked with dirt. Nigel, half out of habit, scanned Inas from head to toe.
Sensing the intense gaze, Inas turned around. The moment he recognized Nigel, he broke into a bright smile.
“……”
The morning sun glistened under a cloudless sky. Bathed in light and sweating lightly, Inas shone brighter than the sun itself. And with that one smile, all the irritation and frustration Nigel had felt the night before melted away.
This was always the problem. If he didn’t see that face, maybe he could think rationally. But Nigel liked Inas far too much—and Inas knew it, weaponizing his own face with alarming effectiveness.
Still, this wasn’t one of those moments where he needed to be cold and rational.
Sure, they still needed to talk about last night. But moments like this didn’t come twice. A little indulgence wouldn’t hurt. Well, maybe he was already a bit too giddy. Nigel at least tried to rein in the upward curve of his lips.
“You’re here, Nigel.”
“Yeah. Must’ve been tough today—because of me.”
“It’s nothing.”
With his gaze lowered and his tone obedient, Inas looked every bit the model knight.
“Looks like you’re almost done cleaning. Have you eaten?”
“Not yet.”
“Then eat with me. It’s the least I can do after what you went through.”
Nice excuse. He’d thought he’d arrived late, but it looked like his timing was perfect. The cleaning was nearly finished—there was no way the stablehand could insist on keeping the young lord of the house standing around any longer.
Nigel pulled Inas away from the stablehand, who looked ready to assign him a finishing task, and instead enjoyed a leisurely breakfast with him.
Unlike Nigel, who picked at his food, Inas had a healthy appetite. Rather than savoring each bite, he devoured it like he was fueling a machine. But even so, he finished his meal with elegant manners that belied the speed.
“So, Nigel, what are your plans for today?”
“Rest. I have an audience with the king tomorrow. Oh, and I need to see Schumacher.”
Nigel glanced at Inas for a reaction, and Inas chuckled lightly.
“No need to tiptoe. I was the one who suggested it. It’s something you have to do, so why would I get angry?”
“…You do seem mad, though.”
Even yesterday, when Schumacher came up, Inas’s eyes had gone oddly cold. But this was a man who never cared about circumstances or logic when it came to Nigel. He wasn’t the type to calculate his anger.
“I don’t like it, but I can tolerate it.”
“Good. I’ll be seeing him today.”
“You don’t need to tell me.”
Because it’s harder to bear when you do. Inas muttered the words as if he couldn’t hold them in. Nigel laughed and reached out to take his hand. Inas, clearly pleased, kissed him lightly on the forehead and cheek.
Nigel would’ve liked to spend the morning lazing around, but Inas was only a trainee knight—he had a mountain of work. Today, he’d be tagging along with Roshan or the other knights, fulfilling his duties. Glancing at the clock, Inas sighed and got up.
“Then I’ll take my leave.”
“Mm. Don’t overdo it.”
“Nigel.”
“Yeah?”
“Would you… like to go somewhere with me on the next holiday?”
“Huh?”
Caught off guard, Nigel blinked at the unexpected invitation.
“Before we leave the capital. Even if you’ve lived here a while, you probably haven’t explored every corner, right? This season, there are lots of places where the flowers are in full bloom.”
“…Alright.”
After a brief pause, Nigel accepted. He didn’t really have a reason to say no.
Inas looked slightly disappointed as he reluctantly turned to leave.
***
After seeing Inas off, Nigel dressed properly. He planned to persuade Schumacher with as much formality as possible.
He contacted him first, then headed to Schumacher’s room. The man was already dressed impeccably, waiting for him.
“Good day, young master.”
“Hey. Sleep well?”
“It was the best room and the best bed I’ve ever had. Of course I slept well.”
“Glad to hear it.”
As they exchanged pleasantries, the attendant inside finished steeping the tea and quietly exited. Nigel poured a cup and took a sip.
“I assume my father’s proposal reached you. He wants you as a knight in the Magnus Duchy.”
“Yes, I heard.”
“Have you made a decision?”
“It was quite a sudden offer.”
“But it’s probably the best one you’ll get.”
Schumacher frowned at Nigel’s confident tone.
“You’re awfully sure of yourself.”
It sounded like a polite way of calling him arrogant. But it wasn’t arrogance—Nigel had complete faith in his family’s knights, having seen them in a previous loop.
“Well, yeah. Even if you rise through the capital’s knight order, the influence of noble families is unavoidable. There’s a ceiling for someone of common birth. But in the Magnus territory, rank isn’t tied to lineage. With Father’s backing, you’d probably start in a pretty good position too.”
“But the Magnus Duchy is dangerous. I can’t say it’s an entirely good deal.”
“The mortality rate is higher during the Grand Battles, sure—but not for troops directly under the Duke. They’re used to monsters and know how to deal with them. Most deaths come from hired mercenaries due to lack of manpower. More soldiers actually die in border skirmishes or routine capital purges.”
“Is that so?”
“Yeah. And if you distinguish yourself in battle, it’s not hard to earn land or a minor title. It’s a non-hereditary single-rank title, but still—not a bad deal. I’ll do everything I can to help.”
“You know a lot.”
“It’s our knight order. I’d be weird not to.”
Schumacher fell silent at Nigel’s confident answers. He looked thoughtful, so Nigel waited quietly, sipping his tea.
“…Did you personally request me?”
“Yeah.”
Schumacher raised an eyebrow, clearly trying to figure out what Nigel’s angle was. So Nigel went on the offensive.
“I had a vision.”
“A vision?”
Schumacher’s expression filled with suspicion. Nigel nodded quickly.
“It’s true. You’ve heard the rumors, right?”
“They’re nonsense. That someone chosen by the gods appeared, sprouted wings, will ascend soon, glows with divine light, sees the future… All ridiculous.”
“…Okay, yeah. They’re ridiculous. Except for one.”
“There’s one that’s true?”
Schumacher frowned and studied him more closely.
“…You actually glow?”
“What kind of crap—I’m telling you, I saw the future.”
Despite Nigel’s insistence, Schumacher remained skeptical. Not surprising—it was a lot to swallow. Nigel patiently waited for him to process it.
“You’re saying… you really can see the future?”
“To a limited extent.”
“Then tell me—what did you see that made you want to recruit me?”
Schumacher asked the question in a rather arrogant tone. Accepting the offer would make him a vassal of Ruder, yet he was acting cocky with the Duke’s son.
Was he planning to reject it? Nigel chose his words carefully.
“You’ll learn the Aura Blade, rise quickly, and earn the king’s favor. You’ll become known as the Empire’s greatest swordsman. But a few years from now, something will happen. Your honor and reputation will be shattered. You’ll be attacked from all sides—and you’ll be cornered.”
It started out positive, but grew more grim as it went on. Schumacher’s expression soured accordingly.
“What a charming prophecy.”
He clicked his tongue. But Nigel had only mentioned the least of what would happen. The future included loss of family, being possessed by a relic, and leading the world into ruin.
Inas had said Schumacher obtained the cursed weapon every single time, without exception. Always on the same doomed path, never able to escape it.
Nigel genuinely pitied him. From an objective standpoint, it was a truly miserable fate.
“Sir Schumacher. I can change your future. Come with me.”
“You’re incredibly confident.”
“Because I have every reason to be.”
Schumacher scoffed like it was blind arrogance.
“Very well.”
But his answer was unexpectedly positive.
“I actually quit the knight order already. Made up my mind just a few days ago.”
“What? Then you should’ve said so!”
Nigel felt like he’d wasted his breath. Schumacher chuckled wickedly and shrugged.
“I wanted to hear how you’d try to persuade me. Even if I didn’t go to Magnus, I still had other options.”
“So? Satisfied?”
“Yes. If I go to Magnus, I’d want to serve under you.”
“I already have a personal guard.”
“A shame.”
He really did sound disappointed. Regardless of whatever complicated feelings were involved, having a skilled knight say he wanted to serve under him wasn’t a bad feeling. Nigel grinned broadly, unable to hide his mood. Schumacher, watching him smile, frowned a little.
“…Young master, can I ask you something?”
“What is it?”
Schumacher hesitated, uncharacteristically awkward. Was he about to walk back his decision? Nigel tensed in anticipation.
“You’re not… in love with me, are you?”
“…What?”
A powerful sense of déjà vu hit him. Schumacher looked perfectly serious, which made it all the more absurd.
“That would be a problem. You’re far too young…”
“Yeah, no. Dream on.”
Should he tell him he was into someone five hundred times better-looking? …No. He decided to spare him. Clearly, Schumacher’s delusions were a chronic condition.
