As expected, Schumacher quickly agreed to meet after receiving Nigel’s message. Without delay, Nigel boarded a carriage and headed in secret to Schumacher’s residence.
Based on the last intel, Schumacher had obtained the second piece of Glarus’s relic about two months ago—before Kay had even left the village.
It hadn’t been a clean acquisition. Hiding his identity, Schumacher had made his way to claim the relic. Naturally, this led to a clash with the temple priests guarding it, and when negotiations failed, he slaughtered them all. He was now on the run.
His identity hadn’t been exposed yet, but the strength of Glarus Temple’s priests and holy knights was well-known across the continent. Even for the kingdom’s strongest knight, Schumacher, having such an entire faction as an enemy meant he was probably on high alert.
And now, out of the blue, a message from Nigel—a man he barely knew. Schumacher was likely stewing right now, wondering if someone had finally caught his scent.
He might even try to silence Nigel. But Nigel wasn’t too concerned. Even if he died here, he’d just get reset to April 14th. Not that he was keen on reliving the experience of death again…
But he hadn’t come to turn Schumacher in.
Under the cover of darkness, the carriage arrived quietly. Nigel was immediately led to a secluded room—not that there were many rooms to choose from in this small house. “Secluded” just meant a room at the top of the stairs.
Guided by what seemed to be the only servant, Nigel stepped inside to find Schumacher already seated. He rose when Nigel entered.
“Sir Schumacher.”
“I didn’t expect a sudden visit from the Duke of Magnus.”
Rather than jump to his point, Nigel smiled and sat where he was directed.
Even in this humble home—an oddly modest place for the kingdom’s greatest swordsman—Nigel maintained his polished, aristocratic etiquette. With a curious look, Schumacher poured tea from a kettle and handed him a cup. Nigel sipped, quietly observing him.
Faded gray hair, deep black eyes, and a serious expression. Likely in his late thirties, around fourteen or fifteen years older than Nigel. A man who had risen from common birth to knight commander and the kingdom’s strongest warrior with nothing but a sword.
A brilliant man, but his low birth had always been a clear limit. Because he didn’t cater to noble favoritism, Schumacher had made plenty of enemies.
Things had been better when the late King Roderick, who’d cherished Schumacher, was still alive. But after Roderick’s sudden death, the throne had gone not to the favored Second Prince, but to the First—and Schumacher’s standing had instantly turned precarious.
Then came the “accident”: a carriage crash that killed his entire family—his mother and the nephew he had raised like a son.
It had been deeply suspicious. Schumacher accused a noble who had always hated him. He had evidence, witnesses—everything. But his claims were dismissed, and unable to bring the culprit to justice, Schumacher had despaired.
It was enough to break a man.
That Schumacher happened to stumble upon the first fragment of the relic afterward felt like cruel fate. Holding a piece of forbidden power that could do anything, he resolved to overturn the kingdom’s corrupt institutions—even if it meant borrowing cursed strength.
It wasn’t that Nigel couldn’t understand why Schumacher chose such a drastic path. Then again, born into the duchy, raised in comfort—Nigel, with his sickly body, was hardly in a position to judge either way.
After a pause, Nigel finally spoke.
“I heard you’ve recently come into possession of something quite valuable.”
“And what might you be referring to?”
Schumacher replied calmly, eyes fixed on Nigel. On the surface, his movements were casual, but he’d subtly shifted his stance—ready to draw his sword and strike if needed. Growing up in a house that revered the sword, Nigel could tell immediately.
He quietly set his teacup down and opened his Character Info Window.
Character Info Window
Name: Mikhail Schumacher
Class: Knight
Level: 91
HP: 3,221 / 3,221
MP: 1,077 / 1,077
<View Stats>
<View Skills>
High… Compared to Kay, who had been Level 78 with around 1,100 HP when he fought Schumacher last loop, these numbers were clearly superior. Of course, Nigel had seen Inas, so even this looked unimpressive in contrast.
He started to worry.
Did I come here just to get hurt for nothing?
“You’re strong, aren’t you?”
“…I suppose you could say that.”
“You’d be even stronger with all the relic fragments of Glarus.”
In a blink, Schumacher’s eyes turned sharp and dangerous. His hand shot out, and before Nigel could react, he was slammed down onto the table by the collar. A dagger whistled through the air and embedded itself beside him.
“How do you know that?”
Despite the tension, Nigel smiled without a hint of fear.
“Shouldn’t you at least try denying it first?”
“There’s no need to deny it to someone who’s already certain. I asked how you know.”
“You don’t need to know that.”
Schumacher frowned at Nigel’s nonchalant reply, seemingly baffled by the sheer audacity.
“Where’s that mutt you always drag around?”
“Mutt?”
There was only one person he could be referring to—Inas. Even if Nigel had come here today intending to kill him, he still didn’t appreciate anyone badmouthing the man he loved. His expression twisted in distaste.
Schumacher sneered at his reaction.
“So this has nothing to do with that creepy bastard.”
“…Do you two not get along?”
“We’ve never had enough interaction for it to be good or bad. There’s just… something ominous about him.”
Muttering to himself, Schumacher gripped the dagger again, the cold blade grazing Nigel’s neck.
“Answer me. How did you find out about the relic?”
“You don’t need to know.”
“You’re awfully cocky, Duke. That title won’t save your life here.”
“You’re misunderstanding something. I didn’t come here to report you. If I had, why would I come personally?”
“…?”
“I came to help.”
Schumacher, about to speak again, stopped—staring as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. He seemed genuinely thrown off.
“Do you even know what the relic of Glarus is?”
“Of course I do. The sacred relic used to seal the evil god Edelta. Once holy, now tainted by Edelta’s corruption. It’s powerful, yes, but cursed—nothing good ever comes from it. No one should possess it.”
“Yet you still…”
“Yeah. Knowing all that, I came to help you. I’ll give you whatever you need.”
Nigel smiled—warm, gentle, as if willing to give Schumacher the world. No need for grand speeches. He wouldn’t be turned down. Of course, acting too friendly might come off suspicious…
The reason Kay had been able to track Schumacher’s movements in the original story was simple: with no backing beyond his knight order, Schumacher couldn’t fully focus on gathering the relic. It had taken him time. And time meant exposure. Schumacher knew that, too.
With a duke’s support, it would all move much faster.
Besides, killing Nigel here to silence him would just turn Schumacher into a fugitive. That would make things even harder for him. He had no choice but to accept this alliance.
“You’ll help me?”
“I will.”
“And you’re serious?”
“Absolutely. I’m already sickly. I don’t waste energy on pointless games.”
Schumacher fell into thought—but not for long. Whatever choice he made, agreeing here was clearly the smart move. He wasn’t stupid. Soon, he nodded.
“Very well. I accept your offer, Duke.”
“Smart choice.”
Nigel was satisfied with the immediate answer. Schumacher might not trust him fully yet—might still have his metaphorical sword at Nigel’s throat—but that was fine. With time, he could tame him.
“So, how much help can I offer?”
“As much as you need. Whatever you ask for, I’ll provide.”
Schumacher smirked, lips twisting slightly at Nigel’s confident answer.
“I see… so the rumors were true?”
Instead of answering, he threw out a bizarre remark. Nigel blinked, confused.
There were countless rumors about Nigel, the sickly duke who avoided his frigid northern lands and spent most of his time in the capital. His subordinates usually filtered out the most ridiculous ones so he wouldn’t collapse from the shock. So whatever Schumacher was referring to—it was undoubtedly nonsense.
“They say the Duke’s in love with me.”
“…What?”
Nigel’s jaw dropped. He knew the rumors were stupid, but this?! Utterly stunned, he asked again. Schumacher, watching him gape, laughed as if he understood everything now.
“You thought I didn’t know? Even during the carriage crash—you were the one who desperately helped me. And whenever there were obstacles afterward, wasn’t it you who kept stepping in to protect me?”
“No, that’s just—”
The noble responsible for the crash had simply irritated him, so Nigel had taken the opportunity to crush him. As for the repeated “help” later on—it was probably about the knight order loyal to Schumacher. Nigel had only defended them because some power-hungry fools had tried to infringe on their rights.
How the hell did he twist it into this?
“So now, after helping from the shadows, you’re offering me everything?”
…Okay, when he put it like that, it did sound suspicious. Nigel opened his mouth to correct him—but paused when he saw Schumacher unsheathing his blade. Better not say anything reckless.
Holding the dagger steadily, Schumacher stared at the blade for a moment—then suddenly tossed it far away. Only then did Nigel finally exhale and open his mouth. But Schumacher spoke first.
“I can’t return your feelings, Duke.”
…You don’t need to.
“But if you’ll settle for the shell—I’ll give it to you.”
The shell? What the hell was he—
The realization hit mid-thought.
Schumacher’s arm gently wrapped around his waist. His face leaned in slowly, as if going in for a kiss.
Nigel was briefly struck dumb with horror.
Then, Schumacher vanished.
In his place stood Inas, eyes filled with murderous rage, glaring at Nigel as if he was ready to kill someone right here, right now.
