Turning Chapter 952
“Anyway, once I saw how the Commander responded, I came straight back. I met with Dover and the others too.”
The current Yuder had created was massive. And with that size, it was naturally impossible to control it with precision. That meant it was inevitable that some monsters would be flung off in unintended directions during the push toward land—he couldn’t pay attention to every single one.
To correct those deviations and ensure safety on the surface, Yuder enlisted the help of Dover and the first team members. The moment they saw monsters tossed out of the current and shooting to the surface, they quickly realized these must be the ones Yuder had warned them about.
While those with water-based powers pushed the waves toward land with all their strength, wind-based members summoned wind in the same direction to support them. With water and wind working together from above, it was only natural that Yuder’s current gained even more power.
Upon hearing that everything had gone according to plan, Yuder let out a deep breath.
He’d been confident—but with monsters, no one could be entirely sure when some unexpected variable would arise and twist everything. The fact that everyone trusted him and acted exactly as instructed in such a perilous situation—and that the first wave of tentacles had been dealt with without any deaths—was only now beginning to feel real.
Even though he knew he shouldn’t let his guard down, something about it felt... strange.
Glancing around at the members busily tending to the injured, Yuder moved his lips.
“Are the injured all right?”
“No serious injuries—so of course they’re fine.”
After replying, Steber fell briefly silent. He seemed slightly hesitant.
“Steber?”
Yuder looked at him, wondering if there was something left unsaid. Steber sighed and gave a small smile.
“No, I just... wondered if it’s okay to say thank you.”
“...Why all of a sudden?”
“This, I mean.”
Steber quietly shook both his wrists.
“I’m all good now, so from here on, let the booze and the Deputy Commander handle things—you take care of yourself too, yeah? We’ve got to help each other survive, right?”
“......”
“That guy with the leg injury—we should send him up. We’ll replace him with someone from above. I think we’ve exchanged all necessary reports, so let’s get back to work!”
With a grin, Steber summoned his water powers. Small droplets popped into being, flew toward Yuder’s shoulders and back, burst against him, then vanished. It was a wordless but unmistakable message—like a friendly pat from someone who could wield water.
By the time Yuder looked up from the burst droplets, Steber was already walking away toward the other members—only his back in view.
“...Was that the main point? For me to look after my condition?”
In truth, once Steber realized Yuder had deliberately limited the information he gave before sending him to shore, he could’ve gotten angry. Even if Yuder had done it out of concern and faith in Steber’s abilities, it wouldn’t be unreasonable to feel slighted.
“If it were Kanna, she’d have asked cautiously if it was because she wasn’t helpful. If it were Ever, they’d have tried to make up for it by jumping straight into the next task.”
But Steber was clearly cut from a different cloth than the other two Deputy Commanders.
That maturity—more than what Yuder remembered from his past life—suggested that Steber too had changed in this lifetime, in ways both subtle and deep.
Yuder glanced briefly at the shoulder where Steber’s droplets had touched, then moved his body to descend again. The vibrations from the sea below were starting to shift ominously.
***
“Commander! We’ve dealt with the last one!”
“All targets here are secured and retrieved!”
Kishiar approached the massive pile of monster corpses and other debris that had stacked up near the breakwater like a small hill. Even after his initial sword aura attack, many monsters had survived. After handling and pulling out all the remnants, this was the result.
“What about the other areas?”
“A report just came in—they had no trouble dealing with the ones that drifted that way too.”
“Good.”
Kishiar reached out and picked up one of the monster corpses. With a wet squelch, it lifted—its shape bizarre, half-formed eyes paired with an assortment of teeth of all shapes and sizes.
It looked like the body of every animal and plant in existence had been chopped up, thrown in a pot, blended into a transparent paste, and then molded into a semi-solid mass.
“They say monsters don’t follow species classification well, but this... this one might go down in history. It’s truly bizarre.”
“I agree. Never seen one like it.”
The one who replied was Helrem. She’d stopped by to report the traps set by the mages had functioned well—and hadn’t been able to walk away from the sight of the corpse pile since.
She had laid out several of the corpses before her, using a few magical instruments she’d brought to analyze them. Her expression was deadly serious.
“Learned anything?”
“Oh, you’re impatient, aren’t you? I’ve barely /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ had time to examine them, and you’re already asking for results?”
She grinned and adjusted her glasses.
“—But come on, who do you think I am? I’m the continent’s top magical researcher on monsters.”
“So?”
“These things appear to be a fusion of various materials into a single form. They can act separately and together, to the point where defining a ‘single unit’ is meaningless. But... they do have one thing in common.”
She pointed at the pile of corpses.
“Their outer layer—what looks like skin—is made of the same material.”
Kishiar examined the one he’d picked up.
“Transparent, jelly-like. Like a jellyfish.”
“Exactly.”
Helrem nodded and continued.
“Still needs more study, but creatures with that kind of skin usually live in the sea. Jellyfish, squid—just as you said. And those types generally don’t hold up well against heat or poison.”
She said she had already tried burning a few of the corpses. As expected, they shriveled up rapidly when exposed to fire. It was proof of their weakness to heat.
“Hmm.”
“They’re not that strong individually, so we can manage them even without that method—but it’s still useful to know. Especially for common folk.”
“We’ll tell the shelters to prepare torches.”
“And when fighting them, we should focus on striking key structural parts instead of slicing at random. If cut carelessly, some still move afterward. Not that it matters much to someone with your power, of course.”
Kishiar smiled.
“Not at all. That’s valuable advice, even for me. Keep working on it—tough as it may be.”
“Understood.”
He glanced around. Morale among the people gathered here was higher than before. There was no need to ask—he knew it was thanks to the sword aura he had unleashed earlier.
“I usually don’t make moves like this.”
Striking first to overwhelm and shift the battlefield—that was Yudrain Aile’s style. It looked reckless, but in real war, not games, it had its purpose.
Witnessing overwhelming force firsthand gave people a kind of morale that couldn’t be measured in numbers. The energy here proved just how powerful that invisible force could be.
“Do you think more are coming?”
Nathan Zuckerman asked quietly from behind. Kishiar nodded.
“Yes. This is only the beginning—they’ll keep coming.”
“How many waves do you expect?”
“Hard to say. Even I don’t know. Yuder didn’t tell me.”
“......”
Nathan’s expression darkened. Unlike the other soldiers, who were energized, he understood the weight behind those words.
For now, the fight had seemed manageable. But would that continue?
Endless repetition of these battles—without knowing when they would end—was in some ways worse than a single crushing confrontation.
Reading Nathan’s unease, Kishiar added,
“This will turn into a battle of morale and stamina. Like some game of rallying balls back and forth. So pace yourself.”
No doubt, this was why Kishiar had taken it upon himself to handle the first blow so overwhelmingly.
“Another wave incoming!”
Soldiers scanning the sea shouted and waved. Kishiar grinned, eyes locked on the bubbling horizon.
“Yuder’s sent another serve. Let’s go return it.”
The writhing mass within the rift, having lost its massive tentacle, quieted momentarily as if assessing the situation. Then it began to thrash again, wildly trying to escape. Two more tentacles emerged from the rift—slightly thinner but faster than the last.
Steber’s team gritted their teeth and attacked with all they had. Fighting in the dark, restrained, and unsure where the next strike would come from—it felt like they were shackled at the limbs. But their training paid off. With only small signals from Yuder and Steber, they gave everything.
Yuder also joined the fray for a while—until the waters around them filled with severed tentacle chunks. Then he summoned another current, just like before.
—KWAHHHH!
Though slightly weaker than the first, it was still enough to sweep away the monsters.
“Now! Everyone, push!”
The others above the surface spotted it and gritted their teeth, shouting as they drove the waves forward.
“Incoming! Get ready!”
The soldiers lined up on land stood firm, weapons raised as the current rushed toward them. After a long battle, they managed to reduce the tentacle fragments to corpses.
The third wave... the fourth... each one was dealt with in the same way. Exhausted soldiers were rotated out. Yuder’s underwater team switched places with those above. The glowing bracelets were handed over each time to reduce discomfort.
From the fifth wave on, Kishiar sent out a small boat carrying holy water and priests so that the surface teams—who couldn’t rest properly—could recover. Using the boat as a base, communications became much smoother.
“Yuder! The Commander says the latest wave’s been dealt with—asked if you’re okay...”
“Tell him I’m fine. What about the Commander?”
“Obviously, he’s in better shape than any of us.”
Yuder sliced and sent the enemies; Kishiar and the land team destroyed them. Once Kishiar confirmed the kills, Yuder gauged his next move with the others.
Nathan Zuckerman, watching this coordination, was struck with the realization:
“The Duke was right. This really is... a game of catch.”
The sheer size of the “ball” was unthinkable—but the rhythm, the give-and-take... it felt just like that.
But even in the most skillful game of catch, there’s always a moment when the ball flies off-course.
That moment came with the ninth wave.