Chapter 1259

There was no more reassuring response than that. Left to her, the matter would likely be resolved within a day or two.

He sensed other members approaching the training ground from afar. Their dawn training, just the two of them, was coming to an end.

As Yuder rose to start packing up, Ever spoke from behind him.

“It was honestly surprising. You asking me for help like that—it’s the first time.”

When he turned around, he was met with her bright smile. There didn’t seem to be any negative undertones to it.

“It made me really happy. It felt like... I was finally recognized as someone trustworthy enough to be handed real responsibility—as a proper Vice Commander.”

...Is she really reading that much into it?

Yuder hesitated briefly, then responded, thinking she might have misunderstood something.

“Ever. I’m merely the Commander’s aide. While we do work together, that doesn’t mean I outrank you. If you were thinking along those lines—”

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

Ever shook her head.

“Hin and Pin may move around freely, but officially they’re under Sul and Vice Commander Steber, or even Kanna, who they’re closer with personally. You could have asked any of them. But instead, you asked me.”

“I asked because I believed you already had the experience those two needed.”

Failure in the South—and overcoming it.

Not being crushed by that failure, but choosing to grow from it.

After hearing that brief yet meaningful explanation, Ever nodded, her expression lighting up.

“Exactly. I’ve been doing my best to make up for things, but I still wasn’t sure if I was really doing okay. But knowing you thought of me as someone capable of helping them... that made me happy.”

So I really have been moving in the right direction... That kind of certainty brought a smile to her lips.

“Honestly, I still feel guilty about what happened in the South. I feel sorry to you, and of course, even more so to the Commander. I think everyone who was there with me back then probably feels the same—maybe not as strongly, but still. It just seems like Hin and Pin are taking it harder than the rest.”

What? After everything had ended, after they'd even had time off—she was still thinking about it?

Were the mistakes and carelessness from back then really that hard to shake?

But if it came down to hardship, the Cavalry in his previous life had gone through much worse...

And the moment he thought that, Yuder suddenly felt like he understood. The look in Ever’s eyes mirrored that very answer.

“We’d been doing so well until then. Honestly... maybe too well.”

“......”

“From the moment we joined, everything we touched succeeded without real hardship. No one except you was ever seriously injured. You recovered and returned to us. Every time, we received rewards that far exceeded our efforts.”

So—

“At some point, we all got cocky. Thought we couldn’t fail... even if we slipped up, we figured it would all work out in the end.”

Ever turned toward the approaching footsteps of their fellow members.

“The truth is, even when we made mistakes or were sloppy, things turned out fine because someone was always backing us up from below. Someone was taking responsibility so we could keep trying without falling apart. And we forgot about that.”

“......”

“And the price for forgetting... was too steep.”

A cool wind blew. Her tied-up hair swayed silently in the breeze.

“Even one person letting their guard down can cause an accident. But all of us were complacent. And what made it worse was that none of us thought we were. Looking back, we thought training harder or having stronger abilities meant we weren’t being complacent.”

“......”

“But those strong abilities weren’t even fully our own. Someone had been relentlessly pushing us forward from behind to get them...”

She said someone, but her eyes were fixed on Yuder’s face.

There was no need to name who that ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) someone was.

“And yet we were lucky again... no, someone spilled blood, worked hard to the point of collapse—and thanks to that, we survived and got rewarded once more.”

“......”

“So I guess that’s why I keep thinking about what happened in the South. I’m scared that I’ll get cocky again—without even realizing it.”

In Yuder’s previous life, the Cavalry had been a string of failures from the start. Nothing went right. The atmosphere inside the unit kept spiraling down. Even when it felt like they’d hit rock bottom, the next day would bring a new, deeper low.

Even after Yudrain Aile’s reputation soared and they became the Empire’s top military force, the atmosphere didn’t change like magic. The stronger they got, the more horrifying the disasters that came. News of deaths and replacements became daily occurrences.

Unlike back then, no one had died this time. From Yuder’s perspective, that was a relief—but he hadn’t considered how that would change things for the others.

So that’s it...

Yuder was used to watching well-prepared plans fail from some unseen angle. In his past life, he’d often been the one who was the blind spot.

So when a few unexpected twists and failures had occurred in the South, he had simply adjusted course and moved on.

But not everyone could do the same.

He suddenly remembered how much care Kishiar had been putting into reorganizing the unit after the Southern campaign. There was no way he hadn’t noticed the others' emotional state. He was probably working to address it.

And... perhaps Kishiar wasn’t much more immune to this kind of failure than Yuder himself.

Hmm.

In the past, discovering something outside his expectations would have immediately chilled his head.

But not now.

Because now, he could trust there were others already working—quietly, behind the scenes—to resolve things.

And that was enough.

Yuder turned to Ever. She was still standing there, waiting for his response.

“Ever. To be honest, I’ve been complacent and arrogant, too.”

“...Huh?”

“I’m just stating the facts. If you were to name the person here who’s made the most mistakes from arrogance or carelessness, I’d be hard to beat.”

She seemed to think he was trying to comfort her with a joke. But it was the truth. Yuder Aile had returned after learning, firsthand, that the result of complacency was death.

“I’m human too. So I try not to repeat the same mistakes. That makes us all the same.”

Yuder hesitated a moment, then added,

“So how about this—we make a promise. When either of us is losing focus, the other knocks some sense back in.”

“...What?”

“If you ever think I’m being careless again, come punch me. I’ll do the same for you.”

“...Are you serious?”

“Yes.”

“You trust my judgment that much?”

Ever Beck. Even in a world speeding toward apocalypse, she had remained rooted in the Cavalry, one of the last to stand.

Even if she didn’t believe his words, if he couldn’t trust her steadiness—then who could he trust?

Yuder nodded.

“I’m saying it because I do trust you.”

Ever was silent for a moment. Then, with no trace of a smile, she responded firmly.

“Alright. I’ll remember that promise.”

“......”

“I have a feeling I’ll end up punching you more, so I’d better train harder. That’s what you meant, right?”

It wasn’t.

But it seemed she’d already drawn that conclusion, so Yuder chose not to say anything.

After wrapping up the morning training session that only Cavalry members attended, Yuder washed off the dust and headed straight for the Commander’s office.

Kishiar was there, cleaning the divine sword Orr.

“You’re here. You look a little brighter than usual—did something happen?”

Of course, Kishiar saw right through him. Yuder told him about the conversation and promise he’d shared with Ever.

“I hadn’t realized... none of the current members had ever truly experienced failure before. They’d never had a chance to reflect on arrogance or carelessness. I assume you knew that already.”