Chapter 107: The Answer
Sebas's question had come too suddenly.
Touch Me's thoughts halted for just a moment, as though something had lodged in the gears of his mind, making everything turn one beat slower.
"Hah?"
His face was written over with confusion. He blinked twice, clearly not understanding why Sebas-sama had asked such a thing out of the blue.
But he quickly gathered himself, realizing his reaction had been somewhat rude.
"Sebas-sama, I don't possess an [Innate Ability]." His expression was entirely open. "That kind of gift from heaven — even Lord Lucian has never had one. So it would be too much to hope for from me."
He lowered his head slightly when he finished, as though offering a small apology for his own ordinariness.
"..."
Sebas's voice, when it came, was suddenly weak — like the murmuring of someone very ill.
In the instant he heard those words, the light in his eyes dimmed like a candle caught by wind.
Sebas stood where he was, motionless, radiating a loss that had no adequate name.
Touch Me looked at him and didn't know what to do. He had no idea why his answer had produced this.
But he could feel it: the old man in front of him was passing through something he couldn't understand. A loss deep enough that even someone as composed as Sebas-sama couldn't entirely conceal it.
"Sebas-sama..."
He didn't know where the courage came from, but he took a step forward.
"But I don't believe an [Innate Ability] can determine a person's future."
His voice was louder than before. He wanted to offer some comfort to this old man who had just taught him something.
He straightened, those earnest eyes looking at Sebas without retreat.
"There are people in the cavalry unit who have [Innate Abilities]." He said this with real conviction. "But they're nowhere near Lord Lucian's level. In swordsmanship and in tactics, Lord Lucian surpasses all of them by a great distance."
He paused, drawing a deeper breath, and spoke with greater certainty.
"An [Innate Ability] is only a gift from a previous life. But how hard you train determines how high you reach in this one."
Sebas watched this young man stumbling earnestly through an attempt to comfort him. Bitterness gathered on that lined face, degree by degree.
How much he wished the person in front of him were who he hoped he was.
Too similar. Even this — the gentle, awkward impulse to try to comfort someone in their sadness — felt as though it came from the same soul.
But no [Innate Ability].
The probability that this young man was Touch Me-sama's reincarnation was too small. And yet he couldn't stop the disappointment.
He let out a wry smile.
"I didn't expect you to say something so full of wisdom."
Touch Me scratched the back of his head, slightly self-conscious. A few strands of his bright gold hair were disturbed by his fingers and lifted in the morning breeze.
"Actually, Lord Lucian said that to comfort me once." His voice carried a trace of embarrassment, but behind it, genuine admiration. "He said a person's future shouldn't be decided by what they were born with."
That touched something in Sebas.
Right. Lucian.
If it's Lord Lucian—
The thought arrived like a single point of light in the dark. The eyes that had gone dim recovered a small glimmer.
Lord Lucian was the heir of the ancient Aindra noble house. In the capital, he had been Sebas's most reliable source of intelligence.
Perhaps Lord Lucian knew more about this legend.
Maybe beyond [Innate Ability], there were other ways to confirm whether a reincarnation had taken place.
Sebas glanced at the young man. He refused to give up on even one chance in ten thousand.
"...Thank you, Touch Me."
He set aside the wry smile and composed himself again.
He gave the young man a slight nod and a gentle pat on the shoulder.
"That's enough for today. You did very well." His voice returned to its usual steadiness. "If you ever need anything, come and find me."
Sebas turned, said nothing more, and walked toward camp with firm steps.
*
Sebas came to Lucian's command tent.
The guards recognized him and came immediately to attention, stepping aside without any announcement — Lucian had instructed beforehand that Sebas could enter at any time, without being announced.
Sebas lifted the tent flap and walked in.
The interior was simply furnished: a modest table, a few wooden chairs, a camp bed layered with a blanket.
On the table lay a map of the Dragon Kingdom's various frontline positions, the ink still slightly fresh — marked last night after receiving the latest battle reports.
Lucian was sitting, studying the map. He looked up, saw Sebas, and a natural smile appeared.
"Sebas, finding me this early — is something the matter?"
Sebas took the chair across from him.
"Lord Lucian." Sebas's expression was somewhat grave. "There's something I'd like to ask you about."
"No need to frame it that way — just ask." Lucian waved off the formality.
Sebas met his gaze.
"It concerns the legend of [Innate Abilities] and reincarnation."
He explained: he had heard that when powerful individuals died, their souls descended into the world again, and [Innate Abilities] were the proof that such souls had been reborn.
Lucian heard the question and felt a quiet satisfaction internally. His expression showed nothing.
"That, is it." His tone was easy, the way someone discusses ordinary things.
As he spoke, he reached for the teacup on the table, took a sip of cold tea, the cup covering most of his face — and covering the small movement at the corner of his mouth.
His thoughts were moving quickly.
Before yesterday, Sebas's attention had remained entirely on dragon intelligence.
But this morning, first thing, he had come specifically to ask about the Innate Ability legend.
Sebas must have talked with Touch Me about [Innate Abilities].
Lucian deliberately let his response come more slowly.
From the corner of his eye, he caught the small changes in Sebas. His posture was unchanged, but Lucian could sense it: the fingers had drawn slightly together, the line of his shoulders was a fraction more rigid than usual.
This was eagerness.
For always-composed Sebas, this degree of eagerness said a great deal.
Lucian was satisfied.
It seemed the meeting between Sebas and Touch Me that he had so carefully arranged had gone very well. More than very well — the pace was further along than he had expected.
Sebas had clearly developed a level of feeling through his exchange with Touch Me, enough that he had come early in the morning to have Lucian verify the reincarnation legend. That meant the plan he had worked out with such care was moving along its intended path.
Lucian looked up and met Sebas's gaze again.
"This legend," he said, putting a slightly more serious note into his voice, "I do know something about it."
"Reportedly the legend originates from the Eight Desire Kings' legacy, five hundred years ago." He looked up with the ease of someone holding the answer. "It came from the desert cities to the south."
In his opening line, Lucian both distanced the legend from the Theocracy and attributed its origins to the Eight Desire Kings — who had been dead for centuries and could not be verified.
Sebas gave a nod. As expected of the well-learned Lord Lucian. The sources and context, laid out clearly, were far beyond anything the street-level rumors Sebas had been collecting could provide.
"Although the Eight Desire Kings are legendary figures, the Aindra family's historical records explicitly confirm that they were real." Lucian continued. "Therefore this related legend does carry a certain credibility."
Sebas's eyes brightened. Lord Lucian himself had confirmed the legend's credibility — which meant soul reincarnation might genuinely happen.
"Then, Lord Lucian." Sebas leaned forward slightly. "Beyond an Innate Ability, is there any other way to confirm a person's reincarnation identity?"
The anticipation was nearly visible on his face. For always-composed Sebas, this degree of visible feeling was rare.
Lucian shook his head slowly.
"Unfortunately, in the original legend, the only recognized proof is the Innate Ability."
Sebas's shoulders dropped, perceptibly, by a small measure.
"That said," Lucian paused, as though recalling something from a long-sealed account, "there are also some less reliable accounts claiming that a reincarnated person's character and their previous life will be highly similar, and that even their name might bear some resemblance."
Sebas's head came up sharply.
Similar character. Same name.
Touch Me's face surfaced before him — that commitment to justice, and the identical name. Did this mean—
But the most critical factor was still the Innate Ability.
"Then..." Sebas's voice was rougher than usual. "Touch Me, he—"
He stopped himself. There were things he hadn't finished saying.
Lucian's eyebrows rose slightly. He was somewhat surprised that Sebas would ask this so directly — he may have slightly underestimated how much Sebas trusted him.
But Lucian recovered quickly.
"That rascal Touch Me?" His tone lightened, carrying the register of someone talking about an endearingly unremarkable younger family member. "I remember having him bring you dinner yesterday. Did he give you trouble? Don't be too hard on him — he's actually a good kid, just young, doesn't always know better. I'll have a word with him."
"No, no — it's not that, Lord Lucian." Sebas almost immediately raised a hand, a rare trace of flustered energy in the motion. "...Touch Me — he is very good. It's that I..."
He stopped. His gaze lowered.
"...I feel that he resembles, very closely, someone I knew before... someone who has passed."
Those last few words came out almost as a sigh.
The tent was quiet for a moment. Outside: the sound of hooves as the patrol changed. From the camp kitchen in the distance, the smell of cook-smoke drifting on the air.
Lucian, as though realizing only now — as though the understanding had just arrived — what all of what Sebas had been saying was pointing toward.
He shifted smoothly into warm and understanding, keeping his voice very quiet.
"This person who has passed... Sebas must have held them in very high regard."
Sebas's breath paused briefly — he was probably seeing that person's face.
The wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, deepened by loss, began slowly to ease. The corner of his mouth was no longer pulled down.
For a moment, Sebas seemed to be bathed in some light that wasn't physically there.
"Yes." His voice was very certain, carrying a force that rose from somewhere deep in his chest. "He was the strongest warrior in the world. His strength far exceeded mine."
Those pale grey eyes reflected an image that didn't belong to this time or place.
"Therefore, I am convinced. Even if this great person met with misfortune, he absolutely meets the standard the legend sets for the 'powerful individual' whose soul can return."
His tone held not a trace of hesitation — as though this certainty had been carved into him.
"Is that so." Lucian's voice was warm. "It seems this great person — like Touch Me — was the very good-natured kind."
Sebas refocused. He gave a clean, direct nod.
"That's right. He was also the most just, most good person in the world."
His gaze lingered on Lucian's face for a moment, then he added: "Of course, Lord Lucian's character is also the finest of anyone outside those Forty-One."
Lucian was caught off guard. He was taken completely unawares by this sudden compliment, and a smile appeared on his face — one he couldn't quite tell was behind his mask or not.
"Sebas, is that your way of complimenting me?"
Sebas looked at him. A faint smile appeared on that lined face.
"Of course it is."
The gloom that Sebas had been carrying dissipated, like morning fog meeting the first sunlight — evaporated quietly under Lucian's few well-placed words.
A brief quiet settled in the tent.
This quiet was different from the heavy, loss-laden one from before. This was the relaxed kind: the natural pause that comes after two people who have finished talking about something serious.
Lucian looked at Sebas again. "Honestly, I'm not as noble as Sebas thinks. Touch Me is the one — he's the one who is genuinely good."
"But, Sebas, I still have to tell you with some regret." Lucian's tone shifted. "Touch Me may resemble the great person you knew very much — but he may still end up disappointing you."
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