Turning Chapter 968
“A wave carrying the monsters will reach this place soon. But this will be the last. Is everyone ready?”
No matter how dire or terrifying the situation became, Kishiar la Orr's voice always remained oddly composed and calm. Hearing him speak made it feel like any hardship could be overcome with surprising ease.
The members didn’t feel crushed by the announcement that another wave of monsters and sea surges would arrive—their focus shifted instead to the part where he had said this would be the last. It gave them strength.
The hardest part up to now hadn’t been the fighting itself, but the uncertainty—not knowing when it would end. Because no one could predict when the next battle might begin, they couldn't afford to use all their remaining strength, nor could they rest without unease even during rare pauses. But still, they couldn’t afford to hold back in deadly combat either. Even those hardened by countless grueling drills had been pushed near their limit.
But Kishiar had now declared that this was truly the last. And their commander had never lied about such things before.
That meant they could now pour out every last bit of strength. No more conserving power, no more enduring pain in silence. Even as they trembled in agony, the members’ eyes lit up, and a cheer burst forth, full of fire.
“Of course we are!”
“We’re absolutely ready!”
In this moment of the greatest threat, their brightness and enthusiasm seemed unbelievable. Amid that surge of energy, Yuder quietly gazed at the man who bore everyone’s expectations on his shoulders.
The moment Kishiar spoke those words, it became unmistakably clear: the time when they had no choice but to rely on their joined hands in the heavy darkness below was now over.
Though soaked and disheveled, Kishiar radiated more vividly than ever before. Despite the fact that the lives of everyone here—and the entire South beyond—rested on his decisions, his shoulders seemed entirely unburdened.
It wasn’t because he didn’t know failure. It was because, more than anyone, he understood that what the people needed right now was exactly this kind of leader.
No one, not even Yuder, could say with complete certainty how this final wave would behave. Kishiar knew that too. But they also understood something else: even if unexpected challenges came, people would not break easily—so long as they had something or someone to rely on.
The tallest tree in the forest is the first to see the sunlight. Kishiar, like such a tree, stepped forward to bear the light, to cast shade over others. Though he clearly saw the darkness that followed behind, he bore the pain and anxiety without ever letting it show.
In that sense, it reminded Yuder of the day of the hailstorm. But something had changed since then. How to describe it...? At first he thought of “transformation,” but that wasn’t quite right. Instead, with some unfamiliar sentiment, he settled on the word growth.
Kishiar turned to look at Yuder. He reached out and gently wiped Yuder’s cheek. A smear of red spread across his damp thumb—blood. It didn’t hurt, but it reminded Yuder that, just like Kishiar, his body was also covered in thin cuts.
Yuder lowered his eyes toward the man whose expression had softened ever so slightly, and then spoke calmly.
“I’ll stay here. Commander, please take the wounded and the cleric on the boat and return to the surface immediately.”
The time for them to fight together had passed. Now, to face the final wave, they needed to divide again.
“That’s the best option, then?”
“Yes.”
Kishiar scanned the boat on the water and the members still catching their breath on the sea's surface.
“Are those who remain here enough?”
“Not entirely... but we can at least weaken it, divide it ahead of time.”
Until now, Yuder hadn’t been able to fully control where the monster-laden waves were carried by the currents they generated. Most had ended up near Sharloin, where Kishiar was, but sometimes they had drifted toward other regions. They had managed to endure so far thanks to the Imperial Army stationed in more fragile territories and the dispersed Cavalry members who had fulfilled their roles well.
But this final wave was different. It wasn’t one he had created.
What they had to face now was water itself—a force no one could fully predict. And those who could wield water's power were strongest within it. Of them, Yuder had the most command over water. Having him lead, shield, and try to guide the flow by intercepting the wave and its monsters ahead of time was, by all accounts, the best joint strategy.
Yuder met Kishiar’s eyes, which held a trace of concern, and spoke firmly.
“I’ll send the final wave to you, Commander. As before—you’ll have to catch it.”
Kishiar’s eyes widened slightly, then he let out a breath and smiled.
“...I’m looking forward to it.”
Soon after, he departed with Mick Shuden, the wounded lying on the boat, and the cleric who looked close to tears at the thought of finally leaving this place. Though the boat was far slower than the Cavalry’s own water-running techniques, at Kishiar’s subtle signal, it surged ahead with foam as though invisible oars were guiding it.
Yuder watched until they were out of sight, then turned his head.
Only a few remained here now. The Cavalry members capable of manipulating water and wind stood around Yuder.
“Yuder, what do we do now?”
“Similar to before.”
Only this time, instead of sending the monster-laden wave upward, their focus would be on suppressing and splitting it.
Hearing this, the members’ faces went slightly pale, but they nodded without complaint.
“Got it!”
Yuder turned his gaze toward Steber, who was standing among them. He’d injured his back during the ascent, but when his eyes met Yuder’s, he quickly approached in a way that wouldn’t raise suspicion from the others.
“Why? You got something extra for me to do?”
Yuder studied his face before speaking.
He hesitated—was it okay to ask this much of /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ someone at their limit, who was injured, no less? But even so, the only person who truly understood what Yuder meant and could act accordingly right now... was Steber.
“As you’ve probably realized, what we’ll be facing isn’t just the wave. The wave—I can handle. But the monsters inside it...”
Yuder’s power alone might not be enough to restrain them. If his hold was weaker than the others’, and the monsters were drawn disproportionately to his side, it could cause trouble.
“Ah, that. Yeah. I figured. So I just need to stick close and keep an eye on the monsters, right?”
Even before Yuder finished explaining, Steber chuckled and patted his shoulder as if he already understood everything.
“...Yes. It’ll be tough, but I’d like to ask you.”
“Don’t worry. Whether I do it or not, I’ll be just as dead-tired either way. Might as well be the one trusted by our Cavalry’s pride while I’m at it, yeah?”
“...What?”
“Hey, look. Something’s already coming.”
Yuder blinked at the strange phrase “Cavalry’s pride” hidden in Steber’s teasing tone. But before he could ask, Steber had already turned and pointed to the distance.
And sure enough—just as he said—the sea was beginning to change. Waves from the far ocean were shifting ominously.
It wasn’t like what they’d felt underwater. This vibration shook their very bodies—a sinister wail from the sea and sky.
Yuder rose out of the water using his power and stood above the surface.
“Spread out at safe distances! Get ready!”
The members began scattering quickly, forming a wide arc around Yuder. The sea swelled violently, sinking down with a sudden pull—then surged upward like a fountain. Then again, it collapsed downward.
A cascade of scattered spray rained down on them.
“Urgh!”
“Gah!”
A few lost their balance in the shifting tides, staggering. But Yuder steadied them with his power, never moving from his position, watching everything unfold.
The waves rose and fell more wildly each time. Every nerve in his body screamed—Something’s coming.
“...Any moment now.”
“Now!”
At Yuder’s raised-hand signal, a deep, echoing vibration rippled from the sea’s sunken depths.
–Fwhoooooosh––!
“Ah...”
The members stared upward in dazed silence as a giant shadow loomed over their heads. Like a massive predator uncoiling its crouched body, a titanic wave opened its maw above them.