The look in Inas’s eyes as he glared toward the door was anything but normal. If Nigel didn’t stop him, Schumacher might very well be split in half within five seconds. The fact that he’d held back until Schumacher left was impressive enough. To spare the man’s life, Nigel turned to Inas.
“Inas. Have you been watching this whole time?”
“Yes.”
He answered as if it were the most natural thing in the world, and Nigel found it a bit funny. He had once seen Inas as the ideal, loyal knight—but now he’d completely adapted to this selfish, unpredictable version.
Last night, when he’d been left alone, vomiting in misery, he wasn’t sure what to think of Inas anymore. But now, seeing him come here on his own and pretend like nothing had happened… it was oddly comforting.
“You’re like a stalker.”
Still, there was no denying he came off obsessive. Nigel lightly chided him—partly emotional, partly logical, as his rational mind screamed in warning. In response, Inas simply chuckled and walked closer.
“You use that word so naturally.”
It was only then that Nigel realized what he’d just said.
“Huh… yeah, that is kind of weird. But it was the only word that came to mind.”
Words he had never used before were slipping into his mind with startling ease. Often, he wouldn’t even notice them until afterward, when he’d catch himself thinking, Wait, didn’t I just use something strange?
“In the past, you used a lot of words I doubt you even realize. You might not remember, but those words are still tucked away in your mind somewhere.”
“Hmm.”
It sounded like a diversion, but Nigel let it go—he had been wondering about it anyway. It was strange. Strange things had been piling up so fast he hadn’t even had the time to question them properly.
“Now that I think about it… it’s weird. My body went back, but I kept my memories.”
It wasn’t so much that his dead body had been revived… It was more like the world had been rewound, reversed. If that were the case, wouldn’t the memories stored in his brain have been reset too? But they weren’t.
“Is it because this is a game?”
“Could be. Or maybe it’s because memories are stored in the soul. It might be a bit of both.”
“The soul, huh.”
Nigel repeated the word Inas had used, turning it over on his tongue.
“Do souls really exist?”
Curiosity sparked in his voice. If someone from the temple had heard him, they’d have thrown a fit, but Nigel had long since stopped believing in things like souls. Or rather—he had learned not to believe.
Surprisingly, Inas nodded without hesitation.
“Of course they do. There’s one right here in this mansion.”
“…Here?”
“A former Duke—seven generations back. He was assassinated here, remember? Slightly darker blond hair than yours, beard on his chin.”
Way too specific. Like he’d seen him himself.
Nigel shuddered.
He’d always been terrified of ghosts. Not in the vague, childish sense—but real, visceral fear.
Because as a child, Nigel had seen them.
They always looked like people he knew. His brother who died suddenly of illness. The nanny who drank poison meant for Nigel and died. Others too—many, many others.
Seeing a ghost was frightening enough. Seeing someone you knew? And every one of them stared at him like they blamed him.
Of course it was terrifying. Nigel had sobbed like he was about to die every time he saw one. His father, Ruder, had scolded him harshly for it. But even after the lectures, the ghosts didn’t stop appearing, and the fear didn’t go away. Eventually, Ruder had brought in a shady shaman and filled Nigel’s room with enchanted wards.
That was all in the past, though. After leaving the north, he hadn’t seen any more ghosts. At this point, he half-believed, as Ruder had said, that he’d just been a weak, overly imaginative child.
He wanted to believe that.
But now he’d just been told they were real. And not in some distant, abstract sense—they were here. In this house.
Nigel’s face went pale.
“It’s… not in my room, is it?”
Since Magnus entered the capital, every duke had used the same bedroom—including the very room where the former duke had been assassinated. The same room Nigel slept in now.
He wanted Inas to say no. But instead, Inas’s expression darkened silently.
“I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“Just lie to me…”
“You told me not to lie, remember?”
Inas spoke with quiet regret. If there were ever a time for a white lie, this would’ve been it. It might’ve been better if he’d heard nothing at all.
“I’ll take care of it.”
Seeing how agitated Nigel was, Inas offered confidently. But Nigel shook his head.
“No, don’t.”
Even if it was seven generations ago, that ghost was still one of his ancestors. And even if Inas removed it now, things would just reset again later. No point in stirring up trouble.
Better to adapt.
Inas gave him a strange look, seemingly surprised that Nigel, so visibly afraid, still refused his help.
“You’re too soft. Just like when you let Schumacher go.”
“So what? There’s no need to kill or erase anyone. There are always other ways.”
“Other ways, huh…”
Inas repeated the words in a strange tone. When his pitch-black eyes slid slowly over Nigel, a chill ran down his spine. It felt like prey caught in the gaze of a predator.
“Why are you trying to collect the Relics of Glarus?”
The question was casually asked, but Nigel’s heart dropped like a rock. He knew Inas had caught on—but he hadn’t expected the man to come right out with it like this.
He shifted his eyes, trying to read Inas’s expression.
“I just… thought it might be useful somehow. I failed last time, and I’m curious how things will turn out this time…”
He had prepared a cover story in case he ever got caught, but he was so nervous he barely managed to say a fraction of it. At this rate, no one would be convinced.
“I see.”
Forget convincing—Inas didn’t even press further.
“Should I… not do it?”
“No. Do as you like.”
Nigel had expected follow-up questions, but surprisingly, Inas accepted it immediately.
“Though I’m not sure it’ll help you. In any case, if you’re going to gather them, you’ll have to let Schumacher live.”
“Why?”
Inas looked at him like it was a very basic question—then let out a soft “Ah.”
“Come to think of it, the secrets behind the Relics weren’t uncovered in the last Loop. Schumacher is the descendant of the priest who once guarded the Relics’ seal. That priest was exposed to the Relics for so long that he was influenced by their power—and Schumacher inherited that blood quite strongly. That’s why he was the first to find a fragment—it was a kind of pull.”
“You know a lot.”
If it hadn’t come up in the last Loop, that meant it wasn’t casual information—it had weight. And the fact that Inas knew it meant he was deeply involved.
Inas nodded calmly.
“Yes. I once fully awakened the Relics myself.”
“You did?!”
“Yes. Back then, I helped Schumacher awaken them. Their power was truly immense.”
Nigel had suspected it was possible Inas had done so once—but if it were true, he had wondered how he could even ask. He never expected Inas to bring it up so easily.
And he’d helped Schumacher? That alone was hard to imagine given their current relationship. That, and the fact that Inas had once awakened the Relics at all… he must’ve lived a hundred different lives.
“What was it like?”
Half curiosity, half an attempt to gather intel, Nigel asked.
“They were powerful enough to seal a god. In that Loop, Schumacher looked poised to conquer the world. But Kay’s entire party died, so we never got to see it through. I nearly died myself.”
“Then… shouldn’t you not help Schumacher now? You might be in danger too.”
“The timeline resets anyway.”
Right. That part hadn’t changed. Inas had no reason to fear death.
If Inas couldn’t be harmed by the Relics, then Nigel’s current plan would be useless. But Inas had said he almost died. Which meant it was still possible. It was too soon to abandon the idea. He decided to dig a little deeper.
“Then why did you awaken the Relics in the first place?”
Even if you’d gone mad from the Loops, why deliberately cause a catastrophe?
Inas didn’t answer right away. He just stared at Nigel in silence, his expression unreadable. It made Nigel shrink back. The longer it went on, the more unsure he felt about Inas’s love. He wasn’t even real, just a character in a game—and yet Nigel’s heart ached every time he reacted to Inas’s actions.
“If it’s because I’m just some character in a game and you think I’m useless, I get it… but if not, then tell me. I might be able to help.”
Inas looked stunned for a moment. Then, slowly, he knelt down.
With his head bowed and brows furrowed in quiet sorrow, Inas gently held Nigel’s hand.
“There’s no way I’d think that about you, Nigel.”
His voice rang with unwavering, sincere affection—and it pierced Nigel to the core.
“I just didn’t want to burden you with unnecessary worries. There was nothing impure behind my actions.”
“…Okay. I get it.”
Nigel responded casually, but it stung inside. Because saying there were no ulterior motives was a lie. Inas had once told him he loved him—yet also belittled him as nothing more than data.
Seeing Nigel’s expression darken, Inas let out a quiet sigh.
“Alright. Then let me tell you everything I know.”
