Turning Chapter 972

“I know. You’ve done well. You can step back now and leave the rest to me.”

The moment Gakein heard those words, relief surged through him and drained all the strength from his body. He bowed deeply in salute.

“...Thank you! From now on, I’ll stand back and guard your side, Commander!”

What he really wanted to say was I’m sorry. That he wasn’t good enough to truly fill in during the Commander’s absence, that this was all he could manage, that he was ashamed he couldn’t live up to the trust placed in him—and that he begged forgiveness.

But now wasn’t the time for that. Gakein decided to retreat for now, carrying only the relief that none of his comrades had been harmed, and that Kishiar didn’t seem seriously wounded.

However, just as he turned to leave, Kishiar unexpectedly called out to him.

“Gakein Bollenvalt.”

“...Yes?”

“I already suspected the breakwater was nearing its limit before I left. With no time to spare, I figured it would collapse and there’d be nothing we could do. But the fact that you came up with and implemented a temporary solution so quickly... That I didn’t expect. Impressive.”

Gakein’s face and neck flushed red as he stood in stunned silence.

“Ah... It was just a temporary fix. If not for Kanna and the others who kept at it despite the danger, none of it would’ve worked...”

“But you were the first to think of a way. That’s not something to downplay.”

Cutting Gakein off, Kishiar gave his shoulder a light tap. That light touch felt, to Gakein, like it shook the entire world.

“You did better than expected. It must’ve been tough.”

Kishiar turned away. For a few seconds, Gakein stood frozen, then brought a trembling hand to his face and let out a silent scream.

Ugh—aaaaah...!

If a body could burst from sheer emotional pressure, now would be that moment. He was so happy—but unsure if he was even allowed to feel joy in such a situation, it made it hard to breathe.

Throughout his life, he had often wanted to hide somewhere invisible, burdened by the way others projected expectations onto him just because of his appearance and noble lineage. Deep down, he had wished someone else could step into his place—someone who looked just like him but could live up to those expectations.

But now, the feeling of wanting to hide from sheer joy—so overwhelming it left him dazed—was something completely new.

The shadow at Gakein’s feet twitched and writhed around his ankles before returning to its original form. Then he turned and ran, full of renewed energy, toward Kanna, the other members, and the new arrivals stepping off the boat.

“Don’t rush! I’ll help!”

“Duke.”

Before long, Nathan Zuckerman and Helrem arrived in front of Kishiar. As Nathan reached out to hand him a towel to dry his seawater-soaked body, Kishiar refused the offer.

“I’m fine. Better to send that to Mick in the medical tent.”

“Understood.”

Knowing his lord well, Nathan didn’t press further. Helrem, eyes narrowed in concern, asked cautiously,

“Mick... in the medical tent? Was he badly hurt?”

“He tried to observe something even more dangerous in an already perilous place. Injury was inevitable. It’s my fault for pushing him. But thanks to him, I was able to finish the mission.”

“Hmph. That brat finally did something useful for once, and for his lord no less. You should be proud, not apologizing.”

Despite her biting words, Helrem glanced toward the medical tent. Clearly, she was more worried than she let on. But she soon turned her gaze back to the distant towering blue wall.

“So that’s the final wave?”

“Yes.”

“Didn’t expect it to be that big. I guess it’s putting up a hell of a fight, being the last one. This won’t be easy.”

“Indeed. How many of the magic trap tools the mages prepared do we have left?”

“I’d love to say we’ve got plenty... but the mages here have pitiful amounts of mana. There’s only so much we can create on-site. I’m afraid we don’t have many spares.”

“Having any left at all is enough. Bury the remaining ones as close to the shoreline as you can, spread out wide.”

“Understood.”

“After that, you and the mages should retreat to the high ground immediately.”

After giving his orders, Kishiar turned to Nathan Zuckerman.

“Nathan.”

“Yes.”

“Over there, near that wave—that’s where Yuder and the others are. Can you see them?”

“...The fog is too thick to determine their exact location.”

“That wave is far taller than expected. I have a feeling it might grow even bigger. But even if ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) it does, that doesn’t mean it’s without weaknesses.”

“Do you have something in mind?”

“That wave will soon split into several branches. The ones over there will make it happen. When it does—that’s our chance. We’ll strike with a diversion, reduce its height, and take out as many monsters within it as possible all at once.”

Kishiar didn’t name who would cause the split. He spoke as though the plan was already set, as though failure wasn’t even on the table.

Because Yuder Aile was there. That was reason enough.

“So, when the wave splits—we release our aura.”

Speaking words that ordinary people couldn’t even begin to imagine, Kishiar fell silent, giving Nathan time to think. Staring out at the sea, Nathan finally spoke.

“You mean... to repeat what you did yesterday—cutting the sea open.”

“Something like that. But this time, we’ll do it from high above—not here.”

Kishiar pointed upward with his finger.

“I’ll lift you and myself. We’ll have no ground beneath us, but we’ll do it anyway. Can you manage?”

A slow shift came over Nathan Zuckerman’s usually impassive face. He answered clearly—not as an aide, not as a servant, but as a fearless swordsman.

“If I couldn’t manage that much, I wouldn’t deserve to be called a Swordmaster.”

“Good. It’s times like these I’m grateful I trained my aide well.”

With a laugh, Kishiar ruffled Nathan’s hair and rolled up his sleeves.

“If this really is the last gift Yuder sends my way... then I’ll savor it. Alright—let’s get ready.”

As if by silent agreement, the two men unsheathed their swords and walked toward the sea, without a moment of hesitation.

From atop the towering wave, the land below looked like scattered dust within a perilous fog. Like gazing down from a serene mountain peak, it all seemed so small and fleeting.

But there was no peace beneath Yuder’s feet. He stood facing the wave, letting the wind and sea spray, sharp as knives, lash his skin—his cold stare fixed on the monstrous wall of water.

Damn thing. It’s like it’s sucking in all the surrounding water, growing taller and taller.

As if, failing to cause an earth-shattering quake, it intended to drown everything in water instead. The wave surged violently under the pressure of Yuder and the others’ combined efforts—but instead of weakening, it thrashed even more furiously, growing larger still.

As though some events simply must come to pass.

Yuder hadn’t expected the aftershocks from the collapsing seabed fissure to cause this much chaos. That miscalculation stung. But he’d already made his choice. Even if he could go back, he’d make the same decision again.

Because it’s something I can fix.

He thought back to how far they’d come—Kishiar, the others, and himself.

Yuder would never let this wave crash down and devour the land, swallowing the entire South.

He had already reversed countless events from his previous life. Not once had it been easy, and this was no exception. So there was no reason this one would be different.

Crimson haze erupted from Yuder’s entire body.

Fall. Split apart!

The sea howled in protest at his power.

— Kuwaaaaahhh!

How is he doing this...?

Nearby, Steber, lending his power, was briefly struck speechless. Watching Yuder—locked in a mad battle against the wave, like something beyond human—he couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed. Even if this all failed, no one could blame him after what he’d done. And yet Yuder, as if there was nothing behind him to fall back on, clawed and clawed, pouring out every ounce of power like a demon.

The strongest among them was fighting more desperately than anyone.

No family to protect, no real understanding of the weight of grand ideals—he was just a young man. Yet his sheer determination felt beyond reason.

Where did this endless will and burning focus come from? Steber didn’t know—but the more curious he became, the more he wanted to help.

He struck at the small monsters that kept leaping from the waves to grab at Yuder’s ankles. These beasts pierced through everything else, yet Yuder’s power drew them like moths to a flame. With a flick of force, Steber crushed them. The monsters shrieked in agony before falling, flattened, into the sea.

And through it all, Yuder never looked back. His focus never wavered. More and more power poured from him.

The wave surged forward—and Yuder’s strength lashed at it again and again, trying to rein it in. The unit joined him, enlarging and tightening the noose. Water and wind spun into a violent dance.

Several times, Steber thought, This is it. I’m going to die here. When the strength left his limbs, and he sank into the wave—that would be the end.

And yet, looking at Yuder’s steadfast back, he couldn’t help but dig his heels in and follow. Like a youth again, filled with wild energy—he wanted to cleave this cursed wave apart at Yuder’s side.

Finally—

When Yuder sent out another blast of power, weaving it together with the others’ strength, they cast yet another net across the wave.

And this time—something caught.

The wave wavered, reacting differently than before.

“It caught! Don’t stop—keep going!”

Someone shouted, seizing the moment. Yuder’s golden eyes flashed fiercely.

At last, the wave began to split.

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