Chapter 926

Turning

Chapter 926

At last, the hand within the glove revealed itself.

Yuder, with his lips tightly sealed, gazed upon the hand covered in ghastly crimson marks. He had thought they might disappear like a mirage or illusion as soon as he removed the glove, but that was not the case. It was a wound unlike any he had ever seen. A particularly noticeable injury resided on the back of his hand, so dark and decayed it almost looked like a hole, surrounded by a chaotic pattern of marks resembling worms. The marks were reminiscent of veins or burn scars but did not perfectly match any known injury. Yuder was acutely aware of a cold, metallic smell emanating from it.

Around the wound, there were patches of smooth, unblemished skin, though limited in extent. However, this area was so discolored that it hardly resembled human flesh.

Despite looking fragile enough to crumble at any moment, the hand retained its original form. Certain parts, like the unbroken nails and the contours of bones protruding through the skin, were indistinguishable from a healthy man's hand Yuder knew. This only added to the eerie feeling it gave off.

Anyone who saw this hand would instantly recognize that these were no ordinary wounds. Such injuries were unheard of anywhere in the world. A person of faint heart might have screamed in instinctive disgust and fear upon seeing it.

Yuder observed the hand for a long time before turning it over to inspect the palm, which was not much different from the back in its grotesque appearance. The epicenter of the wound was nearly the same, but the palm was even more ghastly and widespread.

The word "penetration" flashed through his mind.

"..."

A familiar sight of a hand covered in dark red veins emerged. Though not a pleasant sight either, it was different yet similar to the hand before him. The bizarre nature of the injury was the same, characterized by a pattern that seemed to spread out wildly from a central point. However, unlike the utterly ruined hand of the man, Yuder's hand, while containing something dark red within its veins, appeared otherwise normal. The texture and condition of the skin had not changed noticeably from before.

Similar injuries implied a common cause.

But the outcomes were starkly opposite.

The reason for this was straightforward. Yuder had successfully recovered by embracing the power of the Red Stone, the cause of the injury, while the other had not.

A sense of weakness left his hand. Yuder let his gaze fall from his hand and exhaled deeply, his heart pounding as if it were in his head.

He faintly remembered something Enon had once said.

The power inherent in the Red Stone was akin to the source of all Awakeners' power, a highly concentrated and potent essence. Enon had likened it to poison.

Yuder's body had successfully assimilated this poison, allowing him to blend it with his own power. Enon had remarked that Yuder had 'good material' for this task.

However, Enon had also said that this was likely only possible for someone like Yuder; anyone else would have failed to assimilate it and would have perished. Yuder had agreed with this.

Kishiar La Orr's body was undoubtedly robust. His survival, despite harboring such immense strength and talent that one might wonder if another like him existed in this world, was due to the sheer greatness of his physique and vessel. Had his qualities not been exceptional, how could he have endured the extreme training while embracing powers that others found difficult to contain even one of?

However, there is ultimately a limit to the power a single person can hold. Yuder, having examined Kishiar's interior several times, was well aware of the current state of balance in his power.

Kishiar's inner power was always precariously balanced. Though the entangled threads of power had loosened considerably compared to the past, granting him more stability, it would still have been extremely difficult for him, even with his vast vessel, to contain more power or to excessively disrupt this balance. Only someone of Kishiar's caliber could manage these powers and live; for anyone slightly less skilled, these powers would have been a futile treasure, possessed but unusable throughout their lifetime.

He had spent his life constantly adjusting the balance of his own power and would have to continue doing so.

What if Kishiar had suddenly been infused with the same potent poison that had entered Yuder's body?

It would have been nothing less than a cataclysmic event, shattering the world of a single human body. Yuder and Kishiar were different; Yuder possessed only the power derived from the Red Stone, and a body most accustomed to and close to that power.

No one could have saved him.

This hand in front of him was the remnant of a man who had shattered so meaninglessly.

"..."

Yuder had suspected it might be so. Hadn't he already encountered this information in a dream?

Yet, witnessing it in reality brought a starkly different feeling.

His breath, slipping between his parted lips, vanished into nothingness. No matter how many times he breathed in and out, it hardly felt like he was breathing at all.

Yuder could not fathom what he was feeling at this moment.

It was the hand of the man he had killed.

But at the same time, it was also the hand of the man he loved.

Until now, he had only considered the present, feeling no need to distinguish between the two. But at this moment, everything was muddled, beyond comprehension.

In the seething silence, Yuder recalled the man who had never removed his gloves. The man's touch, always hidden beneath white leather gloves, had always left Yuder with nothing but a cold sensation. In the deep darkness, barely discernible, Yuder would only see the gloves covering the hands clasped around his wrists or resting on his arms. It was impossible to turn and see more in the oppressed position. Those hands never stroked his face or skin properly, except to restrict his movements.

The hands that would silently retreat as if even a lingering gaze was too much to bear.

Yuder had once suspected that the man, being of noble birth, wore gloves because he disliked touching a commoner like Yuder. It was common for nobles to mix with commoner concubines without fully undressing, revealing only parts of their bodies.

Even though the man must have known of Yuder's suspicions, he never explained, leading Yuder to believe it was the truth.

During those numerous nights, Yuder experienced fleeting yet profound misery. With each physical response of pleasure, an inexplicable, clumsy hope grew inside him, one that he couldn't eradicate. The wounds to his pride, stained anew each time that indescribable thing shattered. The realization on those miserable days that the man behind him was the only chest he could lean on and rely upon. Each time, the sprouts of his withering emotions dried up.

Simultaneously, he recalled certain memories newly discovered in this lifetime.

Emperor Keilusa, with a cracked vessel and death looming, had long avoided proper contact with his Empress. It had been years since he had only sent the Empress to official events, and at some point, they were rarely seen together. They even went so far as to not share a carriage when traveling to the same location.

On the day everyone risked their lives to mend his vessel, the Emperor, thinking he might die, coldly ordered that the Empress be kept away from him.

What a frigid attitude for a husband. If one did not know that imperial family members with vessel issues could unknowingly harm or kill everything they touched, from people to animals to objects, no one would have felt any warmth in his words.

If one did not know how deeply Emperor Keilusa loved his wife.

If one did not sense that Keilusa La Orr's instinct, not as an Emperor but as a man, was desperately longing to see, hear, and touch his wife just one more time.

If Yuder had not understood that truly cherishing and worrying about someone meant having to act colder and more ruthlessly, he too would not have understood him.

And now, Yuder felt a pain infinitely similar yet far greater than that time.