Combining it with what he had heard from Vetria about Purification, the conclusion was clear.
“What does it feel like to undergo Purification? Huh, that’s the first time anyone’s asked me that. Let’s see… As the Duke knows, it’s like coming up for air after being underwater. The pain vanishes, your lungs open up, and you actually feel alive again. Maybe saying the world feels a little more bearable would make sense… I guess I can keep fighting this damn battle thanks to my Guide, right?”
Aster’s Purification—how exactly it influenced Rampage, Seiyad still didn’t know. If anything, it seemed more likely that Rampage stemmed from Tither’s instability. The more emotions faded, the less Rampage seemed to occur.
But Vetria’s explanation reminded him of what had happened with Ressas. Every time they touched, warmth seeped in and left his heart in disarray. It hadn’t been pleasant or comfortable by any means, yet it had indeed felt alive, just as Vetria had described.
And so, during the harsh winter, Seiyad had deliberately minimized his Purifications with Aster.
Fortunately, the auditory hallucinations he had experienced upon his return hadn’t resurfaced—yet. But there was no reason to be relieved. Too much of his past had already begun to change, and because of that, he could no longer assume that Rampage would strike five years from now like before.
He wasn’t hearing things, but the reduced number of Purifications had left Seiyad deeply worn down. The headaches were something he had grown numb to, and the stabbing pain of the sharp, piercing waves through his body now felt like an ordinary part of life. On the journey to the capital, his thoughts—despite all attempts to avoid them—kept circling back to Ressas.
“I’ll have to face him eventually…”
Uncomfortable. If Ressas were just a soldier performing his duty, it would be easier—cleaner. They could meet, exchange nothing, and part ways. In that case, Seiyad wouldn’t even need to care that Ressas was the close companion of the Duke of Shildras.
Even though he’d avoided seeking out any news about Ressas, Lady Parma would occasionally bring updates from the castle. Ressas had arrived at House Vetria’s duchy, where it was confirmed that his compatibility aligned with Stella as well. Furthermore, he had demonstrated the ability to release and purify his power externally with minimal contact. It was said that, during his return to the palace from Shildras territory, he had achieved a significant level of large-scale Purification.
It was a power Seiyad definitely needed. But now, he had no idea how Ressas would respond if they met again. He recalled that expressionless stubbornness at the last council meeting, when Ressas insisted on staying by his side. A calm that had lasted for a while now rippled just slightly.
Until the goal was achieved… it would be best to keep Aster at a distance and bring Ressas close.
Seiyad came to the unavoidable conclusion. He had to set aside his resentment toward Zion Shildras and the Queen for now and borrow Ressas as his Guide for a set period to reach his objective. The problem was finding a reasonable way to make it happen.
Zion Shildras needed a Guide too. In the past, Ressas had always been by Zion’s side, but if Seiyad altered that past, there was no telling what might happen to Zion now. Though he had once wished for Shildras’ downfall, in this moment, Tither was someone he had to protect.
His mind felt like it was going to explode from everything it had to process. The throbbing that had been poking at the inside of his skull suddenly spiked, and Seiyad stopped in his tracks with a sharp, short groan. Pressing his eyelid tightly, he stood silently for a few seconds before opening his eyes again.
The scene that stretched before him was strange. This wasn’t the path to the central palace. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t stepped foot here in ages or that his memory was fading. He had come to a place he never should have.
“Why did I come here, of all places?”
Just as the bitter realization struck and he began to turn back, he sensed a presence approaching from directly behind.
That was something that should never happen to Seiyad.
Someone had come that close without him noticing? Alarm flared, edged with a faint instinct to kill. As he turned sharply to draw his sword, a calm, pleasant baritone cut through the air first.
“Strike me, and you’ll only end up hurting yourself.”
A voice that was both familiar and deeper than he remembered. Seiyad flinched, lifting his head to meet the other’s gaze.
Yes, he had to look up.
“So put the sword away.”
A slight tilt of the chin finally brought their violet eyes into alignment. The eye level that had once been just a bit lower than Seiyad’s had now clearly surpassed it. It was a face that Seiyad at twenty-nine had grown used to—but to the current Seiyad, Ressas looked strangely unfamiliar.
“…Your Highness.”
A strange feeling churned within. It was as though the ground beneath his feet had dropped out, and his heart began to constrict painfully. Unbidden, the image of Ressas looking up at him with a cold, detached gaze flashed in his mind—his voice devoid of warmth, his pale face indifferent, as if even contempt wasn’t worth expressing.
And now, the Ressas standing before him had taken on that very appearance. The soft lines still remained here and there, but most had faded. He had grown into a full-fledged man—taller than Seiyad—watching him with the same expression as back then.
“It’s been a while, Duke.”
Ressas responded to Seiyad’s flat greeting. Gone was the boy who had begged him to become his Tither before leaving. Now, the man in front of him was composed and unshaken. This version of Ressas should have felt more familiar to Seiyad—and that should have been reassuring. But his heart pounded with unease.
He had thought himself free of fear of death. But now, faced with the Ressas who had once killed him, his stomach twisted violently. The memory of the blade’s tip pressing into his chest surged vividly into his mind.
What had tormented him most at that moment… were Ressas’ eyes. Those cold, blank eyes that looked at him as though he were nothing more than filth. The eyes of someone Seiyad had cherished—someone who had once devoted himself to Seiyad—now completely devoid of any feeling. That was what shook him.
He had planned to speak right away about Purification if they ever crossed paths again. But seeing Ressas like that, his fingertips trembled. It felt as if he had been hurled back into the horrifying time when Rampage had driven him to kill countless others. Just being alive in this body made him feel sick. Regret surged up from within, sudden and boundless.
He couldn’t breathe. It was as if sand had filled his throat, choking off all air. He wanted to vanish—disappear into a darkness so deep that no one could ever find him again. A guilt heavier than death itself swallowed him whole. The world around him bled of color until only black and white remained.
‘Breathe… I need to breathe…’
“Seiyad.”
A rush of warmth brushed against both cheeks. As if unclogging a blocked airway, Seiyad gasped and inhaled the breath he had been holding. The frozen world abruptly snapped back into motion. The sunlit view of the southern palace resumed its flow through time. Unlike the north, birds chirped here with a bright, cheerful clamor.
“You’re okay now.”
Even though there was no way he could possibly know what the problem had been, Ressas said it anyway. When Seiyad came back to himself, he realized Ressas was gently cradling his face. From his firm hands flowed a warmth so soothing it was almost dizzying. His overstimulated mind began to calm, and his cold, lifeless body gradually regained warmth and vitality.
He had no memory of ever freezing up in front of someone before. What had just happened was both pitiful and shameful. He’d exposed his weakness—shown himself completely defenseless. And of all people, it had to be Ressas who saw it.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Now let me go.”
Seiyad twisted his chin to pull away from him. Because of the shift in angle, his lips brushed against the palm of Ressas’s hand. The heat against them was so scalding that Seiyad instinctively flinched, his shoulders recoiling. It seemed like Ressas’s hand, still cupping his cheek, twitched slightly in response. The tension between them was unbearable, and Seiyad ended up stepping back—he couldn’t even bring himself to grab Ressas’s wrist.
A single step apart—barely a foot of distance—settled between them like a chasm of silence. The resolve to ask for Purification upon meeting him again now felt utterly meaningless. All he had to do was speak, but the fact that he would have to touch him again to be purified drove him mad. He couldn’t explain why, but it was just too much.
“…The banquet is about to begin. What’s the guest of honor doing all the way out here?”
So instead, he brought up the first other topic that came to mind. But it was a poor choice.
“And what about you, Duke? Why are you here?”
His tongue caught. Ressas had every reason to be here—this was his residence. But Seiyad? He had no excuse. Before he could even chalk it up to a mistake, Ressas was already a step ahead.
“You came to see me.”
Seiyad froze, caught in the act of looking away to deny it—only to lock eyes with him. Ressas’s violet eyes curved into a brilliant smile as he gazed down at Seiyad.
