Outside, the air had turned biting. Night was virtually upon them; the sky above the towers of Opes had stained a deep, dense purple, while the first stars began to pierce through the low-hanging clouds.
The sun had nearly finished sinking behind the towering mountain peaks surrounding Opes. Darkness descended rapidly over the royal palace, carrying a cold wind that rustled through the treetops of the deserted gardens.
Hayjin paced with long, agitated strides along the stone walkway encircling the great courtyard balcony. His hands were shoved deep into the pockets of his leather jacket, his teeth clenched so tightly his temples throbbed.
"Fuck... fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!" Hayjin cursed inwardly, throwing a furious punch at the empty air. His mind was a primordial chaos, an inextricable tangle of suspicion, fear, and sheer nervous exhaustion.
He was consumed by rage and frustration.
"Damn it! Damn me and this entire absurd situation!" he railed silently, kicking a small stone that sailed over the parapet and vanished into the abyss below.
Exasperated, he kept agonizing over the same dramatic question: was one of the three of them actually involved? Wilder, Riko, or Arkon? "I don't understand shit anymore!" he growled under his breath, halting to lean his hands against the ice-cold stone ledge.
"I haven't made a damn shred of progress! I haven't uncovered a single useful clue to figure out who the hell the killer was in the previous loop! I'm just running around in circles like an idiot, pacing from corridor to corridor like a trapped rat! I don't have a single piece of concrete proof regarding who the murderer is! Who the fuck is behind all this?! Wilder? Riko? Or Arkon?!"
His mind was a swirling storm of suspicion and paranoia. He clutched his head, tugging at his hair in utter despair.
"Arkon seemed genuinely worried about me... fuck, I punched him right in the face and he apologized to me! Is he truly a saint, or is he just terrifyingly good at acting? And Wilder? When he first spoke to me, he was bright, easygoing, a true knight... was it all a facade? The one I'm almost certain about is Riko, but I can't just accuse her without actual evidence."
"They're all fucking with me... How am I supposed to know if they're genuinely good and honest, or if they're just putting on an act to make me drop my guard before plunging a knife into my back?!"
The more he tried to analyze the situation, the more the three faces overlapped, blurring into an unsolvable enigma. He couldn't distinguish genuine nobility from flawless performance.
He stood frozen in the middle of the courtyard, his heavy breathing casting small plumes of vapor into the freezing evening air. Powerlessness was eating him alive. Knowing that time was ticking inexorably toward nightfall without a single strategy to save himself and those he cared about was driving him to the brink of madness.
Just then, from the secondary gate leading toward the main road, came the heavy thud of iron-shod hooves and the clatter of armor.
Hayjin looked up and saw Wilder and the rest of the royal guard returning to the castle after their afternoon patrol. The captain of the knights was mounted on a gray stallion; he dismounted with his usual brazen agility, laughing and joking with his men as he handed the reins to a groom.
At that sight, something dark snapped inside Hayjin's mind.
A rift of pure psychological despair opened through his rational thoughts, giving birth to a gruesome idea.
He froze, staring at Wilder from afar with narrowed pupils.
A spark born of pure desperation and a complete lack of options a macabre thought began to take root in his mind.
"What if I put an end to all this before it even starts?" Hayjin thought, his inner voice turning dark, cold, and twisted. His pupils shrank to pinpricks as a dark shiver rippled through his brain. "If this is how things are... if they're all potential killers... why should I wait for them to make the first move? Why should I wait for night to fall just to get my throat slit or watch Isabelle die again? If I kill them first... if I eliminate the threat at its root before they can even move... the loop will stop! We'll finally be safe!"
The concept of a preemptive strike began to take shape in his mind a drastic, extreme solution to break a cycle of deaths he couldn't predict.
He began evaluating the idea with lucid, desperate coldness, analyzing the three suspects one by one.
"Arkon... I don't know. Even if he were the culprit, trying to kill him is completely out of the question. If I even tried, I'd risk turning the entire Kingdom of Opes against me. I'd be condemned to death instantly as a traitor, and neither Zhilian nor little Wren could do anything to defend me or save my life. I still don't fully understand the complex political landscape of this world, but I get one thing: Arkon is one of the realm's highest religious and social authorities, alongside the other Sages. Killing him would be counterproductive and suicidal. He's protected around the clock by the castle's Royal Guards and the knights commanded by Wilder... he wields immense political power."
"Wilder and Riko, on the other hand... despite their important roles in the castle, are socially and politically inferior to Arkon. An 'accident' involving them would cause far less stir on an institutional level... But even here, there are way too many problems."
Yet even on that front, insurmountable obstacles arose immediately.
Hayjin locked his gaze onto Wilder's imposing figure as the captain casually unbuckled his broadsword from the saddle.
"Wilder is a fucking war machine. He's way too strong for me. In a direct fight, he'd tear me to shreds in three seconds flat. Trying to kill him right now is completely out of the question... he'd kill me without even breaking a sweat."
Hayjin's gaze then drifted toward the illuminated windows of the kitchens, where he knew the housekeeper would be.
"The only one I might stand a sliver of a chance against... is Riko. Even though she's an elf and usually elves in fantasy are insanely strong I strongly suspect she doesn't possess direct combat abilities. She's a servant, a housekeeper. Out of the three, she'd definitely be the easiest to kill by surprise... if I moved quietly enough, I could strangle her or stab her without anyone noticing..."
But the moment that thought formed clearly in his head, the image of little Wren weeping hysterically over her beloved housekeeper's body flashed before his eyes.
A wave of nausea tightened Hayjin's stomach. "Wren adores Riko... Riko is practically a mother to her. If I killed Riko, it would utterly destroy Wren... it would break her heart forever. How could I ever look any of them in the eye after doing something like that?!"
Thoughts collided in his head, crushing him beneath an unbearable weight. There was no clean way out. There was no right choice. Every path led only to blood, agony, and destruction.
Overwhelmed by anguish, exhaustion, and blind despair, Hayjin grabbed his head, burying his fingers in his hair, and screamed at the top of his lungs into the dark night sky.
"AAAAAHHHHHHH! FUCK! YOU PIECE OF SHIT, WHAT THE FUCK DID I EVER DO TO DESERVE THIS?!"
The roar of fury echoed powerfully against the stone courtyard walls, dissolving into the freezing wind.
Before he could catch his breath, the crunch of heavy footsteps on gravel drew near.
Hayjin slowly pulled his hands from his head, his breathing labored and his eyes bloodshot.
Standing a few meters away was Captain Wilder, who had separated from his group of soldiers and stepped over.
Wilder looked at him with a calm expression, raising a hand in greeting with his customary warm, casual demeanor.
"Hey, Hayjin!" Wilder called out with a carefree grin. "Everything alright, kid? You can be heard shouting all the way from the castle entrance... is something wrong?"
Hayjin didn't answer.
He stood frozen in the center of the courtyard, his face cast in shadow beneath the dim torchlight, glaring bitterly at him locking eyes with icy hatred and deep suspicion, refusing to say a single word.
Night had now fully blanketed Opes, casting a mantle of dense, frozen shadow across the stone walkways and wind-whipped mountain towers. In the outer courtyard, left deserted after the soldiers retired to their barracks, the reddish torchlight flickered sinisterly on the walls, cutting across the two men's faces in dramatic shifts of light and shadow.
Wilder stood there, still, just a few paces from Hayjin. His imposing figure, framed by a dark cloak and polished plate armor, looked like a monument to strength and discipline. Yet his gaze was neither that of a stern commander nor a cold executioner. The captain's eyes gleamed with quiet serenity an almost brotherly expression that clashed violently with the visceral hatred and deep distrust emanating from every pore of Hayjin's body.
Hayjin stared at him without blinking, his knuckles clenched, arms rigid at his sides, teeth gritted in a grimace of pure venom. Echoing in his mind were the memories of the previous loop: Wilder silently watching his agony, Wilder embodying the blind authority of a castle rotten to its core.
Wilder let his hands slide to his hips, taking a slow step forward. The crunch of his boots on the gravel shattered the tomb-like silence shrouding the courtyard.
"You know, Hayjin..." Wilder began, his voice warm and deep, entirely devoid of mockery. "I keep looking at you, and I can't help feeling we got off on the wrong foot. From the very first moment we crossed paths in the corridors, I noticed a certain... wariness in you. Actually, let's be honest: you look at me as if you don't trust me for a second."
Hayjin didn't move a single muscle. No response only a ragged breath escaping his nostrils.
Wilder smiled, shaking his head slightly with indulgent understanding.
"I don't take it personally, mind you. I completely get how hard it is to trust someone right after meeting them for the first time. Especially in a place like this, where everyone judges you instantly based on your appearance or noble standing. It's only natural to be wary in an environment you don't belong to."
The captain stepped a bit closer, lowering his guard and spreading his arms wide in a gesture of absolute openness.
"But I want to promise you something, Hayjin: I will do whatever it takes to make you feel at home here in the castle. I know what rumors are circulating about you; I know how many fools among the guards and servants look at you with skepticism just because you appeared out of nowhere with that heavy title strapped to your back. But I'm not like them. I genuinely want to be your friend. I want you to get to know me for who I really am, and I promise... I'll do everything I can to change the minds of those in this castle who judge you without even troubling to listen."
As he spoke those words, a smile of pure warmth settled onto Wilder's face an expression so open, clear, and transparent it seemed almost untouchable. A smile that would have reassured any ordinary man, any lost knight searching for an ally.
Yet to Hayjin, carrying the trauma of unspeakable deaths within him, that smile was the final drop overflowing a vessel filled with venom.
In that smile, Hayjin saw only the most vile, revolting hypocrisy. For an instant, his mind reeled, overwhelmed by the sheer absurdity of the act. "Friend? Make me feel at home? After you left me to die in the dark?!"
The anger suppressed for hours, the frustration of failed attempts, the terror for Zhilian and Isabelle exploded in a blind outburst.
Hayjin lunged.
Before Wilder could even grasp what was happening, Hayjin closed the distance with feral speed and grabbed him furiously by the collar of his armor, yanking him with unheard-of violence. The iron of the chestplate groaned under the desperate, rage-filled grip of Hayjin's fingers.
Wilder gasped, his eyes widening in sudden shock as he was thrown off balance.
"What the fuck are you talking about?!" Hayjin roared inches from his face, his voice cracking with suppressed rage, trembling with hatred and exhaustion. "Are you taking the fucking piss out of me or what?! Huh?! Tell me, damn it! Are you having fun playing the fucking saint?!"
The guards in the distance couldn't see them clearly due to the courtyard's darkness, but the tension in the air turned electric.
"It's way too fucking easy for someone like you to talk so big!" Hayjin spat out, his pupils dilated, his knuckles white from clutching the armor trim. "It's so damn easy to come up to me and deliver all these inspiring speeches! Look at you! You're a noble knight, you're strong, respected by the entire realm you have prestige I'll never see in a thousand lifetimes! It's real easy playing the generous benefactor when you've lived a cozy life, waited on hand and foot since the day you were born!"
Hayjin violently shook the captain, who stood immobilized, paralyzed by the youth's fury.
"If you actually knew who the real Hayjin was..." the boy pressed on, his voice cracking into desperate hysteria, "...if you had any fucking clue what I'm going through at this exact moment, you wouldn't be talking like this! You wouldn't even dare look me in the eye and spew that bullshit!"
Memories of his life on Earth, his anonymity, the meaningless nature of his second death, followed by the carnage of the loops, the feel of iron sinking into his throat, the relentless terror devouring his stomach everything spilled out in an uncontrollable deluge of words.
"I don't give a damn about proving anything to anyone!" Hayjin screamed, his ragged breaths burning his lungs. "I don't give a fuck about your respect, your opinions, or what the idiots in this palace think! All I want is to live a quiet, peaceful life! The only thing I want is to be left in peace with the few people I actually care about! I want to be with Zhilian, with Wren, with Rheagular, with Isabelle, with Elara... the only real people who care about me and treated me like a human being!"
Hayjin tightened his fingers around Wilder's collar even further, digging his gaze into the captain's eyes.
"Tell me, Captain fucking High-and-Mighty... does it look like I'm asking for too much?! Am I asking too much of this rotten, shit world just by wanting to live in peace without someone trying to murder me in my sleep?!"
Silence descended over the courtyard once more. The evening wind blew hard, making the drawbridge chains screech in the distance.
Hayjin continued to pant, his chest heaving frantically, bracing himself for a violent retaliation.
He expected Wilder to shove him off with a punch, to draw his broadsword, or to arrest him on the spot for striking the captain of the guard.
But Wilder didn't respond. He didn't say a single word.
The captain stood still, his head tilted slightly downward. His hands made no move toward the hilt of his sword. In the shadows, his face was unreadable.
Then, slowly, a terrifying, unexpected shift came over the commander.
Wilder's posture shifted. His spine, usually held straight with martial pride, bowed almost imperceptibly. The expression on his face was no longer that of a gracious noble, but a quiet, deep, dull rage a fury born from an ancient, bleeding wound Hayjin had just reopened without realizing where he was touching.
Wilder raised his eyes. They were no longer filled with serenity; they were glistening, bloodshot, devastated by visceral agony.
"You..." Wilder whispered. His voice was no roar, but a trembling whisper that sent chills down Hayjin's spine. "Do you truly think I've had an easy life, kid?"
Hayjin flinched slightly, but didn't let go of his grip.
"Do you really think that just because I carry a noble family name and wear this steel mantle... my life has been sweet and easy?!"
Before Hayjin could answer, Wilder's hands snapped up. Not to strike, but to grab Hayjin's wrists. With terrifying, desperate strength, Wilder forced Hayjin to release his collar, breaking his grip with a sharp shove.
And then, the unthinkable happened.
The great, invincible, legendary captain of the Royal Knights of Opes broke down in tears.
Tears began streaming uncontrollably down his weathered cheeks, soaking his unkempt beard and reflecting the red torchlight. It was not a quiet, composed weeping; it was a desperate, raw emotional collapse, broken by heavy sobs that racked his broad chest.
"You don't know a fucking thing about me!" Wilder yelled, crying openly right in front of Hayjin, completely unconcerned with dignity, status, or anyone who might hear. "You know nothing about what I had to do to reach where I am today! You see my shining armor, you see my sword... but you don't see the mountain of shit and blood I've had to swallow!"
The captain brought a hand to his face, roughly wiping away his tears with his leather gauntlet before slamming his fist against his chest.
"To get where I am, I had to sacrifice just as much as you if not more!" Wilder continued, his voice cracking through his tears. "I had to watch the people I loved die right in front of my eyes without being able to do a damn thing to save them! I watched brothers-in-arms, comrades, friends get slaughtered and butchered while I... I was nothing!"
Wilder shook his head violently, his eyes fixed on the gravel wet with his own tears.
"Before I became what you see today... before becoming a knight a true knight I was just a pathetic coward!" the commander screamed, his voice saturated with such deep self-loathing that Hayjin was rendered completely speechless by shock. "I was a coward who ran at the first sign of danger! A miserable bastard who had never accomplished a damn thing in his entire pathetic life! Dead weight living in fear of everything and everyone!"
Hayjin took a step back, stunned. The rage that had blinded him moments ago vanished completely, crushed by the surreal sight of this giant of a man unraveling piece by piece right before him.
"Then I found a purpose..." Wilder continued, his sobs almost robbing him of breath. "I finally found a reason to stop running! This realm... this land gave me a second chance! It made me into the man I am today! And I swore to myself that I would protect Opes at any cost!"
Wilder raised his swollen, tear-stained eyes toward Hayjin, pointing to the highest tower of the castle.
"I swore I would protect Princess Wren from any threat in this rotten world! Even if it meant becoming the monster myself, even if it meant making the most horrible choices, even if I have to burn in hell! I must protect her!"
Suddenly, Wilder's legs buckled.
The imposing commander collapsed to the ground, sinking to his knees on the courtyard gravel. Digging his fingers into the dirt, bent double, he continued to weep hysterically like a broken child, his massive shoulders heaving beneath the weight of his armor.
Hayjin stood petrified. He didn't know what to do, what to say. The man he had considered a potential killer, a cynical and ruthless traitor, was kneeling at his feet, shattered by his own vulnerability.
Then, with a sudden jerk, Wilder raised his head. He reached out and grabbed Hayjin's legs, clutching the boy's trousers with trembling fingers.
He turned his tear-filled gaze up at the young man. His expression was no longer that of an enemy or a rival; it was the face of a man terrified by something infinitely larger than either of them.
"Hayjin..." Wilder choked out, pleading with his eyes. "Listen to me... listen to me carefully, please..."
Hayjin held his breath.
"You have to run away from Opes," Wilder wept, gripping his legs tightly. "I beg you... get out of this castle right now! Run before it's too late for you!"
Silence fell over the scene like a scythe.
Hayjin stared down at the captain kneeling at his feet as the blood froze in his veins. Those words weren't a threat. They were a desperate, terrifying confession.
From high atop one of the tall stone mullioned windows overlooking the courtyard, submerged in the dense shadows of the central tower's archway, Sage Arkon watched the dramatic scene below in total silence. His slender figure remained motionless, almost merging with the palace's cold stone. His pale, calculating eyes completely devoid of empathy fixed upon Captain Wilder, who was still kneeling in the gravel, clinging desperately to the legs of a petrified Hayjin. No emotion seeped from the elder's wrinkled face; not a flinch, not a single line of bitterness. He merely tightened his fingers slowly around the jade rosary hanging at his waist, observing the emotional collapse of his finest knight with glacial, impenetrable detachment.
Yet Arkon was not the sole spectator of that spectral showdown.
Higher still, cloaked among the castle's most remote and forgotten spires whipped by an increasingly violent wind, another silhouette lay in wait. An imperceptible presence, entirely devoid of visible form or any detectable magical aura, fused seamlessly into the deepest darkness of the night. From its vantage point, this unseen entity did not merely watch Hayjin and Wilder unravel in the courtyard below; it kept its gaze locked onto Arkon's motionless figure at the window as well. A shadow within the shadow, silent and menacing, watching over them all without anyone suspecting its presence in the slightest.