It was a dreadful truth, one that couldn't be fully conveyed with a mere word or two. A mix of conflicting urges—to either swallow it whole or to spit it out—tickled at Yuder's throat.

Images from a distant past jumbled and sped past behind his closed eyes. Though he was in contact with Kishiar and shouldn't have felt cold, his fingertips turned icy. As Yuder exhaled thinly, as though drenched by the chill, the strong arms supporting his back pulled him closer.

The force was so strong, it was as if the being within those arms would vanish if not held tightly enough.

Breathing became slightly laborious, but Yuder found that preferable. Through this constraining sensation, he could feel assured that both Kishiar and he were alive.

The resounding heartbeat from the chest against his ear clearly conveyed that this was not a dream or an illusion of a decapitated convict.

So, Yuder found the strength to open his eyes again.

"..."

The pieces on the board of their tactical game remained unmoved, silently holding their places. It was Yuder's turn to move.

If no move was made, the game would never end.

But wasn't that why he had started the game in the first place?

To continue the conversation, the next move was necessary. Slowly, he reached out and grabbed a black piece.

"To be honest, I think I deserved to lose before. Not because you were absent, but because it was my game," Yuder said.

Kishiar's eyes shifted to the piece gripped in Yuder's hand.

"I didn't even understand the rules properly, and I made many mistakes and wrong moves because I didn't trust the pieces I had. I'm still seeking answers for some of the things I've done. This includes matters related to you."

Even if Kishiar were to ask about his absence, Yuder had little to offer by way of satisfying explanation.

"But I can tell you this: a finished game is just that—a finished game. A wrongly placed piece can't be taken back, but I've learned that you just need not repeat the same mistake in the future. So... I don't plan to forget that what I have to do is no different," Yuder concluded.

As his words ended, the knight piece in Yuder's hand audibly and forcefully advanced on the board.

Speaking had somehow loosened the knot within him. He felt a sense of relief, as if he had finally understood why Kanna had once said that revealing hidden secrets could be liberating.

Instead of instructing the next move, Yuder looked up and met Kishiar's eyes. The man had been watching him with a furrowed brow and an indescribable expression, and now he let out a long sigh.

"…Yes, you're right," Kishiar agreed.

With that, he raised his other hand and spun the board half a turn. The pieces on the rotating board seemed to brush against Kishiar's fingertips as they moved.

"One can't resume a game that has already ended. Anyone can make a mistake with their pieces. What matters is what you do after. In that regard… if the person who taught you this game heard what you said, he might've shed tears of emotion," Kishiar mused.

His expression was both playful and bitter, speaking those words while knowing that he himself couldn't remember his past self.

Kishiar, with his head bowed, gently pressed his lips to the corner of Yuder's eyes. His lips soon grazed Yuder's cheek and ear, tenderly drawing in the lower lip, and then ventured deeper. Within this prolonged kiss, a sensation emerged, as if the tightly held lock of their hearts was slowly being released.

Yuder felt the silent agony emanating from Kishiar, and the myriad emotions directed solely at him. Such intense emotions poured out all at once, leaving Yuder feeling almost intoxicated.

It was a connection of emotions that Yuder hadn't felt since Kishiar had dreamt of his death.

Several times, Yuder felt breathless and dizzy, but he didn't push Kishiar away. Instead, he embraced the sensations conveyed by Kishiar's lips. Even after they parted, the afterglow lingered for a long while.

Through their locked gazes, Kishiar naturally understood the emotions Yuder couldn't express with words.

It was always a wonder how the body could convey so much more than words.

"We should make the next move," Kishiar, resting his forehead against Yuder's, said after a long contemplation of the board. He then delicately picked up the red-patterned general piece, Makas, which seemed to be precariously surrounded. Its intended place was originally the safe spot reserved for the king piece.

When Kishiar swapped the positions of the two pieces, the now vulnerable piece became the king, or Imum.

It was a significant change.

Yuder silently moved his piece again. Amidst the flickering light of the burning stone furnace, several moves were exchanged. After swapping the king and general pieces, Kishiar wielded the king piece as if it were a knight, dominating the board. Despite the many restrictions on the king piece, in Kishiar's hands, it appeared as a born leader guiding all pieces.

The king piece wasn't just meant to hold its position until the end of the war. With a meticulous strategy, the white Imum dominated the board anew.

It was a style of play Yuder had never seen in their countless tactical games from their past lives. Within Kishiar's innovative use of the king piece, the red general piece acted as if it were a third Imum, fulfilling its role.

Yuder realized for the first time that a single move of the Imum could so vividly change the small world on the hexagonal board.

Yuder's black pieces bravely charged, but they struggled against Kishiar's white pieces, which adeptly attacked and retreated. Yet, even though he was losing, Yuder didn't feel bad at all.

Finally, Kishiar's advancing white Imum gracefully defeated the opponent and took its place. The victory was undoubtedly his.

Leaving the dominant piece on the board, Kishiar finally spoke, "Now, what do you think I'm going to ask?"

"I always thought you'd ask how I managed to return here," Yuder replied.

"If you knew the answer, wouldn't you have shown less interest in the ancient records related to time?" Kishiar speculated that Yuder didn't know the reason for his return to the past.

"Was I wrong?"

"No, you're right."

"What I want to ask is something entirely different. But it's also the most important."

Yuder nodded firmly in agreement.

"Understood. If you're asking about the former Commander, then…"

"Hm? No, that's not it."

The man let out a soft chuckle before suppressing it.

"Didn't I say there are still many unanswered questions about me from the previous game? It's not that important, so there's no need to discuss it now. I'll talk about it when everything becomes clear."

Yuder doubted his own ears for a moment before cautiously asking, "Why wouldn't that be important?"

"There's something I want to say in advance, since you seem overly concerned. How I disappeared in the previous game doesn't particularly intrigue me."

"Shouldn't you still be aware of it?"

"Well, as far as I can see, the 'me' from back then was neither a good beginning nor a good ending for you. Knowing more about that time is unlikely to change this view."

Kishiar, responding indifferently, lifted the corners of his lips in a smile.

"That is…"

It was a sharp inference, as if he had seen their relationship from a previous life in its entirety. Faced with the many displays he had seen up to this point, Yuder eventually closed his mouth and struggled to find his words.

"It's different now."

"Good. That's the only thing I can be happy about right now. I can't express how grateful I am that you put it so kindly."

Kishiar once again pressed his lips against Yuder's forehead.

"What I most want to know right now are the conditions you believe are necessary to win in this 'new game,' and your ultimate goal."

"…"

"You haven't told me your larger objective, even though you've abandoned revenge to pursue it so fervently. Saving me, preserving the Emperor, and solidifying the Cavalry—all feel like steps toward a greater goal. So, will you clearly tell me?"

It was only then that Yuder realized he had never articulated his greatest ambition: to save the world.

He had never felt the need to say it out loud, as he was deeply rooted in the belief that no one would trust him.

He stared blankly at the man before him for a long time. Even when faced with those trusting red eyes, the words were not easy to release.

Would he believe him?

Would he not?

Finally, a voice, strained from years of torment, flowed forth.

"My aim, my goal is…"

"…"

"To prevent and avert all the impending disasters that will befall our world."

With just a single sentence, the long age of distrust came to an end.

And then Kishiar smiled at Yuder with an expression he had never anticipated.

"I was going to say that even if your goal was world domination, I'd still support you. Guess I got it half right."