Turning Chapter 890

From the next day onward, Yuder's daily routine began to move at a pace unlike anything before. In addition to his duties as the Commander’s aide, he had to help with stabilizing the situation, et with mbers who had changed since the day of the hailstorm, adjust training schedules, and et with various outsiders who had been waiting to see him.

And with Deputy Nathan Zuckerman currently away, Yuder was the only one qualified to speak with Kishiar directly about work or handle things in his place. Of course, Nathan had prepared everything so that his absence wouldn't disrupt daily affairs—but unexpected variables sotis arose. Contacts with the Peleta Knight Order or the Shuden rchant Group, which had usually been handled by Zuckerman, were pri examples.

If Kishiar had been able to stay awake for longer stretches like before, none of this would’ve been an issue. But now, that wasn’t the case. So Yuder began stepping in to cover as much of Nathan’s role as possible. Though Kishiar told him he didn’t need to, compared to everything else on his plate, handling correspondence with Peleta was nothing.

Currently, Kishiar could only remain awake for around five to six hours a day, mostly after sunset. That brief ti barely allowed for a proper conversation and a light dinner. So Yuder did most of the work during the day and brought only the most essential matters to him at night.

To Yuder, the workload was a bit more intense than usual—but compared to his previous life, it felt easy. However, that wasn’t how it looked to everyone else.

“Yuder... Please, give so of that work to or Kurga. Everyone’s freaking out thinking you’ll collapse again the second you get back up.”

On the way back from finalizing the training schedules and plans for the successful applicants—who, though not yet formally inducted, had played a crucial role—Gakein approached Yuder with a pleading look.

“You don’t have to handle all of the training for the new recruits yourself, do you? Why didn’t you call ?”

“You were busy from morning, weren’t you?”

“Still not as busy as you!”

Was that really true? Sure, Yuder had more on his plate, but that didn’t necessarily an it was harder.

‘What matters is the type of work, not the amount.’

To Yuder, this was just one of twenty light, manageable tasks—nothing stressful. But for Gakein, Kurga, and the others, the sa tasks were overwhelming. Yuder saw little difference between the regular mbers and the new recruits, so he didn’t want to burden them further.

Still, saying that outright would probably make Gakein—who already looked deflated—feel even more discouraged. And since he was at least trying to help despite his own workload, there was no need to crush him with reality.

“It’s the first proper day of training. I needed to observe once. I was planning to ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) start handing it off once they got a little more used to it. Just give it a bit more ti.”

“...Really?”

Gakein asked, half-skeptical.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

“If you want to take over the training work, tag along every day like you did today and observe. I’ll probably hand it off sooner if you do. But... can you manage that? I was going to give you the new training program for your unit soon, too.”

Would he really have ti to oversee soone else’s training on top of his own? Gakein swallowed nervously at the question, which had flown out so expressionlessly.

“Of course... I can do it. I an, it won’t be easy, but you’re doing even more, so I’ll be fine!”

“Good. And make sure you don’t skip Sir Zuckerman’s drills either.”

“Obviously!”

Gakein clenched his fist and grinned with resolve.

“Finally, you’re giving soone else a piece of your work. You’ve been doing so much, it’s like we were the ones unconscious for two weeks, not you.”

Yuder hadn’t gone out of his way to manage his stamina. He simply didn’t find this workload all that strenuous—sa reason as before.

Instead of explaining, he summarized it in a single sentence.

“It’s not stamina. It’s technique.”

“Technique, huh... You do rember we joined at the sa ti, right? Sa age?”

“...”

“Kanna and Ever are already considered fast learners, but you? You’ve been like the Commander from the start. It’s like you spent ten years doing nothing but this kind of work before joining.”

Sharp insight—though spoken in jest. Gakein wasn’t actually suspicious. Too much ti had passed for that, and he’d simply grown used to the idea.

No matter how extraordinary sothing might seem, people adjust when exposed to it daily. Yuder’s absurd combat and administrative skills had beco just another part of life for the Cavalry.

These days, so mbers seriously believed he had once been the secret apprentice of a reclusive archmage before joining. Others thought he was actually the child of a fallen noble family, hiding his identity and joining as a commoner.

Whatever they chose to believe, Yuder didn’t mind—no one had asked him directly. He understood they weren’t acting out of malice, just trying to rationalize the inexplicable in their own way. So even seed to believe it so sincerely that they felt it was their duty to protect Yuder’s “true identity.”

Yuder replied to the giggling Gakein with a perfectly straight face.

“Add another year to that. Ten wouldn’t be enough.”

“...Huh?”

Gakein burst into laughter.

“Fair enough. Thinking about it, learning all that probably would take more than ten years. Maybe thirty?”

“...”

“Actually, thirty might be pushing it. Let’s say fifty?”

Yuder suddenly stopped walking. Gakein, still chattering, took a few more steps before realizing and turned around.

“Yuder? What’s wrong?”

“...Nothing. Just rembered sothing I left behind. Go on ahead.”

“Really? That’s weird. You forgetting sothing? Alright, I’ll go ahead then.”

Gakein tilted his head, then waved and walked off. Yuder waited until he disappeared, then spoke.

“Co out.”

His low voice spread across the empty road near the front gate.

“You don’t seriously think I can’t see you, do you, Kiole? If you’re not out by the count of three—”

“Wait!”

Finally, from behind a wall where no one seed to be, soone tumbled out. Dressed suspiciously in an odd hat and scarf that covered most of his face, Kiole Diarca glared furiously, his face bright red.

“If you knew I was here, you could’ve just called ! Did you have to threaten like that?!”

“You were skulking around instead of coming in normally. What did you expect?”

“I had to sneak in so no one would know I ca! Use your head!”

Really now. Of all people to hear that from—Kiole Diarca?

This couldn’t go unpunished. Yuder raised his hand, and Kiole’s feet were instantly yanked down into the earth.

“Urgh!”

“Looks like you’ve gotten reckless in my absence. Want a rematch?”

“N-No thanks! Why would I?! You damn brute! Let go!”

Even as he panicked, Kiole tried to keep his voice down and his face hidden—he was at least aware that being seen by others was a bad idea.

Yuder released his power and pulled the flailing Kiole back up. The sudden change in height made Kiole trip and sprawl across the ground. Not exactly a knightly display.

“So, why are you here?”

“What do you an why? You—you told that thing before! Don’t you rember?!”

“...”

Did he really expect a fast and efficient conversation with phrases like “you,” “that thing,” and “before”? Still, arguing would waste more ti, so Yuder quietly began to retrace his mory.