Chapter 1002

Yuder had spoken with Kanna about something similar once before, but back then, it hadn’t been a conversation he initiated on his own. If Kanna’s ability hadn’t strayed and accidentally revealed something private, Yuder would never have thought to bring up such a topic himself.

But this time was different. The moment he saw his two friends talking about him and Kishiar, he decided to speak up—and he actually did.

During the short—or long, depending on how one viewed it—pause as Kanna and Gakein gathered their thoughts to respond, Yuder felt both a sense of relief and something faintly amusing.

“Back when we returned from the West, I couldn’t have imagined I’d be the one to say something like this to anyone...”

It was strange. But it didn’t feel like madness.

That was because Kishiar la Orr had made it clear he wasn’t afraid of any scandal involving the two of them.

Because Kanna Wand had declared she'd always be on Yuder’s side, no matter what.

Because Gakein Bollenvalt had stood in front of countless nobles, swallowing his pride to defend Yuder.

All of those things had chipped away at him, leading him to act as he had now.

“Even if Kanna and Gakein feel discomfort, anger, or unease at what I said... that can’t be helped.”

But the meaning of “that can’t be helped” was no longer the same as before. It wasn’t about not caring what others thought anymore. He had come too ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) far and changed too much.

If they felt discomfort or unease, he would understand. And he would try to understand why—and to resolve it.

Once upon a time, Yuder could not comprehend the idea of wanting to fix a relationship no matter what. Interpersonal concerns always came second to grand causes, the lives of many, and the mountain of duties before him.

But not anymore. What had once seemed like “small matters” had grown as important as any greater purpose. So he had no regrets about what he’d just done.

Under Yuder’s calm expression lay an unwavering resolve.

“...Can I ask just one thing?”

It was Gakein who finally spoke, carefully and with calm.

“Back when you pretended to fool everyone with the Commander out west, we all just laughed and enjoyed the moment without thinking much of it. This might look similar on the surface... but what you’re saying now has a completely different weight.”

It was only natural. Pretending and reality were never the same.

“If someone else notices—like we did—those closest to you might end up being the ones who understand you the least. Maybe especially because they remember the last time. Even so... are you okay with that?”

“...”

“You’ve led the Cavalry harder than anyone... It’s your creation.”

Are you really okay if those fellow members don’t understand?

The slight shimmer in Gakein’s eyes as he said it likely wasn’t just Yuder’s imagination. Just the thought that he might be hurting Yuder with his words seemed to upset him—and yet, his voice remained clear.

But Yuder, on the other hand, found the question surprisingly refreshing.

“He probably doesn’t know... but the idea of the Cavalry turning against me isn’t new at all. If anything, it’s the reverse.”

Yuder was already familiar with the idea of the Cavalry recoiling in disgust at scandal and rumors about him and Kishiar. That had already happened once. He knew full well that if it happened again, he wouldn’t be shaken.

What was new, however, was seeing someone worry about him being in that position.

The same person who, in a past life, hadn’t even had time to react to the scandal before dying after being dispatched west—was now standing here, alive, worrying for him.

Strange, yet wonderful.

Yuder, carrying those emotions, gave a clear answer.

“I’m okay. Not because it doesn’t matter, but because I really mean it when I say I’m okay.”

When someone says, “It doesn’t matter,” it usually means the other person means nothing to them. But “I’m okay” meant the opposite—it meant the Cavalry mattered to him.

Though short, Gakein clearly understood the difference. His bright green eyes widened briefly, then shimmered softly with moisture.

“Yeah... That’s a relief. And for me... if you’re doing what you truly want, and you don’t regret it, then I’m all for it. I just hope you keep heading toward a place where you can smile more. You’ve always suffered too much...”

“...”

“That’s it. That’s all I have to say!”

“Hmm. Gakein. Are you crying?”

“N-No I’m not!”

Gakein jumped up in alarm, dodging Kanna’s suspicious gaze. Kanna, chuckling briefly, turned back to Yuder with a much more relaxed expression.

She had a different place in Yuder’s past life—someone whose face he had never even seen. But now, she had become a vital part of the Cavalry, a new piece of his puzzle, looking at him with warmth.

“I’ve said it before, but I’m always on your side. I truly respect the Commander and will follow any order... but not if it means going against you.”

Short and simple—yet it carried deep weight.

“...”

“To be honest, even after knowing everything, I still wasn’t sure if you really liked the Commander... but now I am. I feel a lot better after hearing it. If there’s ever anything you want to say, just say it! I’ll listen with everything I’ve got!”

“Ah... Same here! If you ever want to talk, call me anytime! I don’t know if I can solve anything, but I’ll listen! And I’ll definitely keep it secret!”

Not to be outdone, Gakein jumped in again.

“Oh! Yuder—if you're worried, should we make an oath not to say anything about this?”

“Kanna, that’s a great idea! But where would we get an oath form?”

“Maybe... we can ask Priest Lusan...?”

Yuder blinked at them in disbelief as they immediately sprang into action, brainstorming how to acquire a formal oath without even asking his opinion.

“No need. It’s fine.”

“Huh?”

“If I wanted to bind you with an oath, I wouldn’t have brought this up in the first place.”

He meant it plainly—but the two of them seemed to take it in a completely different way.

“Oh... Right. Come to think of it, Yuder doesn’t need to make anyone take an oath. If he really wanted, he could just...”

“Exactly! If either of us ever leaked this, he could just drown us by forcing the water we were drinking up our noses! Or stage an ‘accident’ during training and bury us in a pit so deep it wouldn’t be discovered for a hundred years!”

“I said I’m not going to do any of that.”

“Ahahaha!”

Listing off the most gruesome and covert death methods Yuder could feasibly pull off, the two friends threw back their heads and laughed in unison.

Only then did Yuder realize they had never been serious.

“Of course you wouldn’t. We know that.”

“But if something ever did go wrong, it’d still be okay. You know that, right?”

“...”

Their hands reached out—one to Yuder’s shoulder, the other to his back. It reminded Yuder of the encouraging salutes exchanged with the team, including Steber, before their deep-sea mission.

Only this time, the warmth was softer, deeper, more personal.

“When I saw you and the Commander dancing at the party earlier... I had a lot of thoughts. It must’ve been hard to say all this—but thank you for telling me. I’m really happy you did.”

“Same here. Thanks for saying it. Our entrance exam group really is the best!”