Chapter 1022

In the cold air of early dawn, before the sun had fully risen—

Several carriages broke through the mist that blanketed the silent main road of Sharloin, where everyone still slept. Each of the carriages bore the same emblem—the insignia of the Cavalry.

Soon, the procession of carriages came to a halt before the guards stationed at Sharloin’s North Gate. A man stepped out from among them. His face obscured by the hood of his outer cloak, he parted the garment to reveal a badge for identification and spoke in a slow, deliberate voice.

“We are the Cavalry. We need to exit through the North Gate to return to the capital. Please open the gate.”

“Yes, we received word in advance. We can open it right away, but... if I may ask you to wait just a moment?”

“What is it?”

“Well... We were told that the Duke of Hern would arrive here before the Cavalry did, but for some reason, he has yet to arrive.”

“......”

“So if it’s not too urgent...”

The guard bowed respectfully, watching his tone and manner carefully. With others, he might not have been so cautious—but these were the Cavalry. He had seen firsthand what they were capable of and knew better than to take them lightly.

The chilling, unknowable pressure radiating from the man before him only added to the unease.

“Very well.”

As if reading the guard’s thoughts, the man glanced back at the procession of carriages and gave a small nod.

“We’ll wait anyway. There are others still catching up.”

It was a relief that he agreed so easily... but “others catching up”? Confused, the guard soon understood exactly what he meant.

“Haah... Haah...!”

“Damn it... Finally, the North Gate...!”

“Move...! I’m sitting first...!”

Several figures emerged through the mist. Drenched in sweat and wearing the same cloaks as the man who had spoken, they came running with faces twisted like demons. Their energy was so frenzied, one might have thought they were being hunted.

‘What... what is this?’

The guards barely had time to react before the runners collapsed en masse at the end of the carriage procession, groaning like they had just escaped death.

“Haahhh!”

They rolled in the dirt as if they didn’t care, clinging to one another and shedding tears of joy as they shouted:

“We made it! We made it!”

“We don’t have to run anymore, right?!”

“Damn it, I was only ten seconds late and still ended up running all this way...!”

Their sobbing voices abruptly stopped the moment they locked eyes with the man standing before the guard.

“......Uh, Yuder. Don’t tell me... you were waiting for us here?”

“N-no, right...?”

“No.”

The man’s short response seemed to ease their anxiety, and their faces brightened in relief.

“Thank god. I thought—!”

“Haha. Of course! As if Yuder would wait for us!”

“It’s not like we cheated or anything. We just ran here fair and square! Totally makes sense... Phew.”

How strange, to be relieved that their comrade wasn’t considerate enough to wait for them. And what did they mean by running all the way here because they were late? Could it be... that the entire procession of carriages had left without waiting for their slower comrades?

And watched them suffer while they ran after them?

Surely not... The guard was thinking that when the carriage windows nearby quietly slid open, and the Cavalry members inside poked out their heads, looking down at their dusty teammates with sympathetic expressions.

“Oh? Those idiots already caught up.”

“They’re whining like they’re dying after just that run? And they’re supposed to be Cavalry First Division? Even the newbies run better than that!”

“Fools. Look at me—I tied my bags to myself and slept in the cargo hold last night. That’s how I didn’t miss the departure. If you don’t make that kind of effort, of course your body suffers.”

“You’re actually kind of smart. I should’ve done that.”

The guard’s eyes shook. He recalled the heroism he had witnessed from the Cavalry during the disasters, and the stark contrast with what he was seeing now made him shudder.

Meanwhile, the collapsed members on the ground flipped them off with thick curses and shouted.

“Screw you, you devil bastards!”

“Stop mocking us and get some sleep! Running’s already miserable enough!”

“Yeah?! If it’s so easy, come run with me, tough guy!”

“Ooooh~ no thanks. Nope. We’d rather just chill and watch, thanks!”

“......”

It was pure chaos. The only one who remained calm amid the madness was the man standing before the guard—Yuder.

‘Wait a second... Yuder? Could he be that Yuder Aile?’

The guard swallowed hard, eyes fixed on Yuder’s impassive face, when suddenly, a window on the carriage he had exited from slid open, and a hand stretched out.

It was smooth and beautiful yet so long and large that it was unmistakably a man’s. The hand beckoned to Yuder with a ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) slow, almost seductive flick of the fingers—like it was drawing shapes in the air, or dancing. The gesture was impossible to look away from.

‘...What the? Is he calling him?’

No words were spoken, so the meaning was unclear—but it was impossible to ignore.

“Um... shouldn’t you go over there? It looks like someone’s calling you...”

“No need. He’s not calling me. That’s just our Commander.”

“...Excuse me?”

The guard blinked, but Yuder said nothing more, as if that explanation was more than enough.

‘Commander...? But isn’t the Commander of the Cavalry that Swordmaster, Duke Peleta...?’

“Then... shouldn’t we at least inform the Duke of Hern that you're waiting? He might want to greet you—”

“He already knows. He’s just messing with us. You can ignore it.”

“Um... messing with you, sir?”

Do royalty... play pranks? The guard’s mind reeled in confusion.

If the Duke of Hern’s carriage hadn’t arrived just then, he might’ve remained lost in that spiral forever.

“My apologies. I meant to arrive earlier and see you off properly, but I’ve made you wait due to my mistake.”

From a surprisingly modest carriage for a duke stepped the new Duke of Hern, Mayra el Hern, who turned solemnly toward Yuder and offered a formal apology. Yuder shook his head.

“It’s fine. We were due for a short break anyway.”

“And the Commander?”

“He’s right here.”

At last, the carriage door opened, and Kishiar appeared. It was hard to believe that this breathtakingly handsome man—so unreal it made the guard question whether this was all a dream—was the same person who had just been playfully waving his hand out the window like a child.

“I was quite clear that there was no need for a sendoff, and yet you’ve come all this way.”

“How could I not? One does not send off guests, especially benefactors, without a proper farewell.”

Mayra’s firm words made Kishiar’s lips curl into a faint smile.

“You’ve changed a great deal since the first time we met, Duke Hern—but also, you’ve remained the same. That’s likely why my aide had no objections to waiting.”

The exact meaning was unclear, but it was unmistakably praise. Mayra seemed to interpret it that way as well, and after smiling briefly, she turned to address the entire Cavalry procession.

“I pray you leave the South with only good memories. May your path be forever filled with the blue of the rolling tides.”

Even the dusty, worn-out members—and those who had been mocking them—listened to her words with softened, serious expressions. When they saluted and thanked her in unison, the guard felt a shiver run down his spine.

‘Ah... they really are...’

The heroes of the South—who had saved the region on those stormy days of hail and surging waves.

There was no doubt now. They stood right before him.

Yuder Aile climbed back into the carriage. The guard gave the signal to open the gate and saluted with more force than ever before.

“To the heroes of the South, I salute you!”

The soldiers manning the gate and the knights guarding the outer walls all followed his lead, raising their hands in the same salute.

Thus, the Cavalry’s procession of carriages departed Sharloin, honored with the highest respect.

“Haa... haa...! Wait! Wait a second!”

“Are we seriously not allowed to get in yet?! Do we really have to run after them all day?!”

“You heartless bastards...!”

Even the few still running after the carriages, wailing in protest, left with them.

“Now... I can finally look at this properly.”

Some time after they had left Sharloin, Yuder at last took a rolled bundle of paper out from a small bag. Across from him, Kishiar’s eyes lit up with intrigue.

“That’s the translated copy of the final hidden page from the journal of the first Duke of Ta-in, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Let’s take a look together.”

Kishiar moved to sit beside Yuder, who untied the bundle and unrolled the pages. Harsh, uneven handwriting—clearly Inon’s—began to appear across the paper.