Turning Chapter 957
Even in the confusion where he couldn’t tell if his eyes were open or closed, Yuder never withdrew his power. Until the current he had summoned swept everything away and surged toward the surface, he could not stop, even if his body were shattered from the torrent and the strikes of the tentacles.
And finally, when the current created by the united efforts of everyone surged upward toward the surface and the seabed that had seemed on the verge of flipping over began to quiet, along with the movement of the remaining four tentacles—
Yuder moved his swollen arm, scraped by attacks, and took a small stone fragment from inside his coat, scattering it downward.
It was a set of mana stones retrieved by unit members who had briefly returned to the surface. The one who had sent them was, naturally, Kishiar la Orr, who had heard how Yuder had managed to light up the seabed. The bracelet that emitted light had been hastily assembled and there were no spares—but mana stones could be sourced more easily. Though they were a lower grade than nightlight stones, they could emit a brief flash of light when struck—much better than having nothing at all.
Since lighting up the sea carelessly could invite danger instead, Yuder had kept the mana stones close, waiting for the optimal moment. That moment was when a significant change occurred in the rift or in the monsters themselves. That moment was now.
The mana stones left Yuder’s hand and shattered under the force of water he sent after them, erupting in bursts of light. Multi-colored flashes blinked to life in the darkness, like fire igniting a mana furnace.
The illumination was far shorter than when the bracelet had been destroyed.
Just a few seconds—but that was all the golden clairvoyant vision needed to sweep across the scene and capture everything reflected in that light.
Unless his eyes were deceiving him, the abnormal rifts faintly visible between the tentacles were no longer six.
Five!
The moment he confirmed that the outermost rift had vanished, an indescribable shiver wrapped around Yuder’s whole body.
The certainty that what he had done wasn’t wrong.
The relief and exhilaration from finally seeing a path toward resolution.
And following those feelings came the sharpest, deepest memory—of the first day of the Southern Great Earthquake that had once struck like a nightmare.
“—There’s been an earthquake. A massive one, in the southern sea. The waves have surged inland, and most of the coastal regions are submerged. The scale of the damage is still impossible to determine!”
That day when many southern regions were flooded all at once due to the earthquake and tsunami in the southern sea—countless lives were lost in a single moment.
The Southern branch of the Cavalry had been too far to respond immediately, and with General Gino absent, the Southern Army floundered without order. Duke Hern, who had claimed a dukedom despite being from a collateral line, avoided all responsibility. The Emperor showed nothing but a cold indifference to the devastation. Whispers spread that he was intentionally inactive because Empress Mayra was from the South.
Even as aftershocks and monsters continued to appear, the nobles of the Capital, drunk on peace, tried to block Yuder’s advancement, claiming the Cavalry Commander shouldn’t achieve any more merit.
While everyone responded like fools, precious unit members fell. The South was completely devastated—just like the West—and would never return to what it once was.
In that shattered, submerged South, Yuder had to face countless people who blamed him.
They had cried out, “You’re the strongest Awakener on the continent—if you control nature itself, why weren’t you there when we needed you most?” Others cursed him with bloodshot eyes, “What use is the Cavalry if all they do is obey the Emperor and never protect the Empire?”
“If you’d been here that day, you could’ve driven the tide back! It’s all your fault!”
Yuder stayed silent in the face of their accusations—because they weren’t wrong.
Though he was the continent’s strongest Awakener, most of his duties had turned into killing and fighting on the Emperor Kachian’s orders. Kachian, who praised Yudrain Aile and the Cavalry as valuable for the Empire, would not actually send them to the places that truly needed them.
When the Emperor began clashing openly with his own House Diarca, Yuder was tied down protecting him and fending off increasingly intense political attacks. He couldn’t even visit branch units properly. Most responsibilities fell to vice-commanders or branch leaders, and all Yuder could do was read the final reports.
As a result, when disaster struck and he was needed most—he couldn’t go.
At the time, Yuder believed that maintaining the Cavalry was his top priority as Commander. The failure of Yudrain Aile had been the failure of the Cavalry. And the Cavalry’s failure would be the failure of all Awakeners. That failure would cast a shadow over the futures of those yet to Awaken.
That was why the trust of Emperor Kachian had seemed essential. The Emperor needed the Cavalry to rule the country, and Yuder only needed to obey him. He thought it simple.
But it should never have been seen that way.
The Southern Great Earthquake made Yuder reflect on all the things he had overlooked. Even when the Emperor demanded he return quickly, Yuder delayed, making excuses. Instead, he poured all his efforts into collecting data about the earthquake before and after it happened.
Natural disasters might be out of human control—but were they really? Was this catastrophe truly unpredictable, unavoidable?
It was then that he began tracking down witnesses who had seen abnormal rifts—who had confirmed their existence and spurred him to follow them.
People mocked him, saying the Cavalry Commander was chasing nonsense, ignoring his real duties. They called him a lunatic who couldn’t admit his failures.
But the Southern Earthquake was, without a doubt, the first step on the path to Yudrain Aile’s death.
A memory that no one else would ever know now blurred behind Yuder’s lids. Calming his thundering heart, he signaled his comrades using a brief pulse of water, followed by hand signs.
“Confirmed: one rift has vanished.”
In his previous life, he had made countless mistakes. Among them, the Southern Earthquake was the one he regretted most deeply.
But now, Yuder knew the cause of that quake. He knew how to stop it. And from now on, he would do everything in his power to act where he once could not.
***
The tremors continued, growing more ominous—until the sea finally began to stir. As the surface swelled and foam rose, it signaled the arrival of another monster-ridden current.
But unlike the eight currents before it, this one was distinctly larger, more massive.
—Swaaahhh!
“W-What the...?”
Before the startled eyes of the unit, there appeared not small fragmented monsters as before—but a massive, tentacled beast of incomparable scale. The unit members were stunned at first, but soon followed orders and split into teams to engage.
Still, it was daunting. The smaller monsters alone had been overwhelming—how were they supposed to deal with this? Just how many more of these things were left in the depths?
The very thought was exhausting. With legs sinking into gravel and sand, they scolded and encouraged one another, but the battle through the dark night was relentless.
“Ugh...!”
Among the weary was Emon of the Imperial Kakheop Unit. He gritted his teeth, wiping away sweat. The ankle he’d twisted earlier was worse than expected. He’d thought it fine after a short rest, but as his head went hazy for a second, a monster’s attack arrived right in front of him. Startled, he moved to summon fire—but it flew off-target, sputtering off in the wrong direction.
‘Damn it. I’m gonna get hit!’
If Suns, with his clairvoyant ability, had been nearby, this wouldn’t have happened. But Suns was stationed elsewhere. Emon gripped his dagger, ready to make one last stand—
Suddenly, ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) a jet-black shadow surged from nowhere and hurled the attacking monster away.
“You okay?”
A firm voice asked as someone caught Emon’s staggering body by the collar with uncanny precision. Emon immediately recognized the voice.
“Uh... Deputy Commander Kanna?”
“Yes. You’re in bad shape. Don’t push yourself—get back.”
“Huh?”
“Why didn’t you say your ankle was hurt? The Cavalry is the Cavalry, and the Imperial Army is the Imperial Army. What kind of pride are you trying to protect by hiding an injury?”
“......”
Kanna already knew Emon had been pushing himself to keep up with the Cavalry, ashamed of falling behind.
‘How...?’
While Emon blinked in confusion, not yet understanding Kanna’s ability, she pushed him back.
“Gakein! I’m sending him your way!”
“Got it. I just need to move him there, right?”
“W-Wait! I can still—!”
“Ha! Don’t say it to me. Say it when you get there!”
Before he could finish, shadows swirled around Emon and dragged him off to the tent where the clerics were stationed. He struggled, but it was no use.
‘What the hell?!’
But when he arrived, he wasn’t alone.
There were others—all with the same blank, exhausted look, sitting in stunned silence. As if each of them were staring into a mirror.
“You... You too? Sent here by the Deputy Commander and the shadow guy?”
“You too?”
“Uh... same here. Kanna and Gakein sent me...”
It was absurd—but as he sat in the clerics’ tent and watched the battle unfold, something clicked.
By forcibly removing those too tired to think straight before they got seriously hurt, the battlefield itself was becoming more organized.
There were fewer people now, and the frontline was being pushed back—but even that looked so smooth and coordinated, it was as if the retreat had been planned in advance.