Chapter 953

The first ominous tremors from beneath the sea had begun just before dawn, prompting evacuations. It was around morning—two hours after the Cavalry had assembled—that Yuder entered the water.

By the time they had dealt with the fifth and sixth currents, the Cavalry members and Imperial troops still had strength left. They managed to joke between hurried meals during their shift rotations.

But by the time they had to confront the ninth current...

Things had changed.

Unlike the seventh and eighth currents, which had come in quick succession, the ninth took a long time to appear. The sun had already begun to set when they finished the eighth, and even after night had deepened, there was still no sign of activity. Some members started to harbor a quiet hope: Maybe this is it. Maybe it's over.

“Hey, didn’t two of the rifts disappear a while after the hailstorm? Then maybe this time, a few of them... vanished too?”

Someone muttered this while standing on watch, facing the sea.

“If that were the case, we would’ve heard from Yuder. The last report said there was still no change. Stay sharp.”

A sharp voice cut in, but once the words were spoken, the silence broke.

“Yeah, but... it’s been hours since the vibrations stopped. Maybe the monsters really are almost all wiped out. Look at that pile over there. You could tell me it’s all the monsters caught in the entire Empire over a year, and I’d believe it.”

A weary Cavalry member pointed to the enormous mound of monster corpses nearby. It had grown so large that, if you covered it with dirt, it could pass for a small hill. Someone even joked about taking an after-meal walk over to it. But with not just one, but five of those heaps piled up, it was getting harder to imagine that more could still come.

“You all must be tired.”

“Why don’t you have some °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° potatoes while you’re at it?”

Members of the Imperial Kakheop Unit, sitting by a small campfire nearby, cautiously joined the conversation. It was a rest area for those who had reached their physical limits. Earlier, no one had time to talk—rest meant immediately being on standby. But once the silence cracked, conversation flowed naturally.

“By the way... is it true that your Commander’s aide has been underwater this whole time since morning?”

“That’s what I heard.”

“Seriously? How is that even possible? Everyone else has come up and swapped out at least a few times, even received divine healing.”

“Exactly. I was wondering the same thing. He’s been underwater the whole time? Isn’t that dangerous? Shouldn’t someone force him to rest?”

Their mixture of surprise and concern made the Cavalry members glance at each other. Truthfully, even they hadn’t expected Yuder to last this long beneath the sea. Nor could they quite wrap their heads around the strength it took to unleash eight massive currents.

But in the end, all that astonishment boiled down to one conclusion.

“It’s a pointless question. It’s Yuder Aile. Yuder Aile.”

“Yeah... it's just, that’s how it is because it’s Yuder.”

“That’s the Cavalry spirit, after all.”

The Kakheop Unit had often asked themselves what exactly that "Cavalry spirit" even meant. No one had given them a clear answer.

Strangely, though, the more they heard it, the more it seemed to make sense—like they were gradually being pulled into that mindset too.

“Ah... Yes. The Cavalry spirit. I see...”

“Anyway... I just wish something would happen soon—or that this would finally end.”

This time, no one had anything to say in response.

A little ways off, Kanna Wand and Kachien Bollenvalt were quietly watching the group.

“Did you expect it would take this long, Kanna?”

“No. I didn’t.”

Kanna shook her head. Rather than staying in one place, she had been moving between regions, monitoring and coordinating. Kachien had been assigned to accompany her for protection.

“This is bad. Everyone’s clearly exhausted. It’s not that their physical stamina suddenly dropped, right...?”

“I think it’s like this—when you’re training, you’re too focused to feel tired. But the moment you sit down to rest, getting back up is ten times harder. Even if you technically have the strength, you just... don’t want to move. It’s probably a bit like that.”

“I see.”

Kachien Bollenvalt, whose grit Yuder himself had acknowledged, had never felt that way. But he’d seen others falter like that before—so he could at least understand the sentiment.

“...This really is a problem.”

Kanna furrowed her brow, harboring a thought she couldn’t voice even with Kachien beside her.

“In training, you can feel that way and still be safe. But this isn’t training anymore.”

Though Commander Kishiar was rotating people out based on Kanna’s reports—sensing even what they couldn’t put into words—such measures could conserve stamina but couldn’t stop mental fatigue from creeping in.

Earlier, things had moved so rapidly there was no time for this kind of worry. Now, with unexpected downtime, it was a different story. Even seasoned veterans couldn’t stay in a heightened state of tension forever.

“Well, except Yuder. And the Commander. And maybe Zuckerman...”

Kanna’s gaze drifted toward Kishiar and Nathan Zuckerman, speaking not far away. She’d widened her sensory range slightly to receive input from various sources, and she could tell they were still exactly the same as when they’d begun.

From them, there were no unconscious mutterings of fatigue, no sighs of exhaustion.

She had always known Swordmasters were built differently, but this was the first time she truly felt it. Their mental discipline was fearsome.

“But the rest of us aren’t like that. Everyone’s holding out for now, but if this wait drags on... I hope I’m not just worrying too much.”

She sighed and walked toward Kishiar. She had planned to wait for his conversation to end before reporting, but seeing the weariness on everyone’s faces made her change her mind. It seemed best to speak up now.

Truthfully, what could Kishiar do in this situation? Still, sharing even a small concern was better than keeping silent—that was one of the lessons Kanna Wand had learned since the day of the hailstorm.

“Commander. Sorry to interrupt your conversation.”

Kishiar turned toward her without surprise. Kanna took a breath and briefly reported on the other regions. Then, hesitating slightly, she brought up what she’d sensed among the others.

“It seems that after the eighth current, as hours have passed without incident, the number of people experiencing mental fatigue is increasing. It’s not that they’re letting their guard down, but I think...”

“Commander! A message from the sea!”

At that moment, a signal came from the boat they had stationed offshore. It was a message from Yuder.

“The monsters seem to be pushing out again. The tremors are growing intense.”

“Understood.”

Kishiar raised his hand and fired a magical signal flare. The moment it lit up the sky, the people who had just been sluggish snapped back into action with practiced urgency.

Kanna thought he would simply turn away. But he didn’t. He looked back and asked,

“Kanna. What were you going to say?”

“Huh? Ah... Just that the prolonged wait seems to be causing a sharp increase in mental fatigue. I thought it might require some attention. But, seeing everyone now... maybe I was worrying too much.”

“No, I don’t think so.”

Kishiar’s reply was unexpected.

“Pardon?”

“Maintaining this level of tension for so long is hard for anyone. Given the delay after the eighth wave, it’s not surprising.”

“Ah... So you already expected this.”

“Perhaps. But expecting it and truly recognizing it—sensing it—are two different things. Your report wasn’t excessive.”

Kanna’s ears flushed slightly. Kishiar continued calmly.

“Even the sturdiest shield, when struck again and again, will eventually break. But if the one holding it knows when it might break, they can pull back and minimize the damage. Isn’t that right?”

If you can retreat properly, even if you're hurt, you can survive. Kanna understood what the Commander meant.

“...Yes. You’re right.”

“The ninth wave will likely be the hardest yet. Be careful.”

Kishiar gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder, then drew his sword. Kanna watched his back—the same back she had watched all year long, and still hadn’t grown used to. She saluted firmly.

Just then, Kachien rushed up to her.

“...Kanna! The monsters are coming again. Let’s go!”

“No, Kachien. This time, let’s not step back. Let’s stay right here.”

“What? Why?”

They had always retreated when monsters came, knowing they’d only be a burden. But Kanna felt differently now. This might be the moment they were most needed.

“No matter how cautious you are, there comes a time when you get hit. If that time is now, I want to do whatever I can.”