He considered just taking it back, telling him not to drink it if he didn’t want to, but the bloodshot look in Kiole’s eyes was really getting on his nerves. At first, he’d thought maybe the guy had been hit in the face or something, but the faint nasally tone in his voice every time he spoke made the answer obvious, whether Kiole liked it or not.

‘Looks like he’s been crying like hell.’

Yuder stared quietly at Kiole’s face for a moment, then let out a sigh.

“I made it.”

“Huh?”

“That tea powder. It’s not for poisoning or for healing. It’s just normal tea. I made it today.”

“You… made this? Why?”

Why, he says. Yuder’s brows knit ever so slightly.

“In my hometown, we don’t grow expensive tea leaves or anything, so we just dry whatever’s on hand and grind it into powder to drink. The people around me ended up liking it more than I expected, so I started making more and giving it out. If you’re not going to drink it, just give it back.”

“N-no, it’s not that!”

Startled, Kiole quickly hid the bottle behind his back.

“I was just curious, that’s all… So I just mix it with water?”

“Yeah.”

“Got it… I’ll give it a try.”

Kiole replied with a solemn look on his face. Then, as if suddenly remembering something, he gave a visible twitch of his shoulders and added awkwardly:

“Ah, since you gave me something, I should give you something back, but right now I don’t… have any money… so I’ll… later…”

Like before, it seemed it still didn’t occur to him to just say thank you and let it end there. Yuder was once again reminded of just how monumental it had been the first time Kiole had managed to say those words of thanks.

“I didn’t give it to you expecting something in return, so don’t worry about it. More importantly, how about you tell me why you were crying?”

“Crying?! Who was?! I didn’t cry—”

His mouth, which had been about to insist otherwise, stopped moving the instant their eyes met.

Right. After all, he’d been bawling in front of Duke Diarca’s secret vault, soaking his clothes through. It would be pretty embarrassing to deny that in hindsight. Maybe with someone else he could’ve brushed it off, but lying in front of Yuder Aile was utterly pointless.

“……”

“We don’t have all day. So—why were you crying?”

In the end, faced with Yuder’s unrelenting gaze, Kiole gave in and confessed the truth.

“…It was… earlier… um…”

His whisper was barely audible, but it was enough for Yuder to understand.

“So, the Commander visited, told you about the state of your vessel, and proposed running tests and sword training to assess your condition?”

“Could you not say that so loudly?!”

“There’s no one around to hear us.”

“Still!”

Yuder already knew all of this anyway. None of it was surprising.

‘If he did it today… that means he must’ve finished talking to Kiole before coming to the kitchen looking for me. He handled it faster than expected.’

Given that no one wanted to become a knight more than Kiole did, it made sense that discovering such a secret would hit him hard. But to think he’d sobbed so much his face had swollen…

‘He’s in worse shape than he was when he cried at the secret vault. It must’ve hit him pretty hard, the idea that continuing sword training could actually kill him.’

As Kiole stood there, face flushed, still breathing hard, Yuder asked:

“So? What did you say to the Commander’s offer?”

“…I said I’d cooperate, of course. There’s no better path for me.”

It seemed Kiole had quickly grasped what would be in his best interest.

“Good. That’s all that matters. Give it your best.”

Yuder turned away without hesitation. Just then, Kiole, still hesitating, lowered his head and spoke again.

“…The Commander told me to think about whether I wanted to become someone who’s just good with a sword… or a knight.”

Yuder froze in place.

‘He said that?’

“He said that if all I wanted was to wield a sword well, I didn’t have to be a knight. But even if I never became a Master, a knight would still be a knight… He told me to use this opportunity to # Nоvеlight # really think about the kind of knight I want to become.”

“……”

“Do you… Do you think he’s right too?”

Kiole gave a big, loud sniff as he asked. Yuder, looking at his messy, tousled hair—so unlike his usual carefully styled self—answered him.

“I don’t know the exact context, but I think I can guess. He probably meant it to stop you from spiraling if it turns out that, no matter what, you can’t keep learning swordsmanship.”

“…Ugh.”

Kiole flinched. Seemed he’d hit the nail on the head.

“Well, he’s not wrong. You’re still a knight, even if you can’t use a sword.”

“……”

“But I don’t think he said it so you’d prepare your heart for failure ahead of time.”

That unexpected take made Kiole lift his head slightly.

“People who know what really matters don’t get lost in the moment.”

“What really matters…?”

“Yeah.”

“What is it?”

“You’re the only one who’d know.”

Kiole still looked unsure. He went back into his room, deep in thought, and Yuder, watching him go, turned toward another room not far away.

He knocked and waited a bit, but no sound came from inside.

‘…Don’t tell me they’re already asleep?’

Yuder quietly used a touch of wind power. By focusing on the thin thread of air that slipped through the crack in the door, he could faintly detect a presence within. It wasn’t detailed enough to tell exactly what someone was doing, but in cases like this, where he already had a good guess, it was a useful method.

And yet—he sensed nothing.

‘Gone?’

As he stood in silence, a voice called out from behind him.

“Oh, Yuder. I was just about to head over to your room, but I guess I don’t need to now.”

“Steber.”

It was unusual for Steber, who normally returned home after work, to visit the lodging where the members stayed.

“Were you looking for me?”

“Hmm. I suppose you could say that.”

“What’s the matter?”

“Well, the vice commanders had a bit of a long meeting earlier. My arms and legs were feeling stiff, so after it ended, I thought I’d stretch out at the indoor training hall. But when I got there, someone was already inside.”

Steber’s smiling face took on a hint of seriousness.

“It was my first time seeing them in person, but based on what the Commander said, I figured it might be our ‘precious guest from another country’… I don’t know them, so I can’t say for sure, but the way they were training, it looked like they were pushing their body way too hard. It got me wondering—is that really okay?”

In other words, he didn’t know them, but their self-abusive training worried him enough to come tell Yuder.

“I was just looking for him too, actually. You’ve saved me the trouble.”

“Really? That’s good to hear. Ha ha. Ah, right. We also got the tea powder bottle you left for us.”

Steber proudly pulled a small bottle from his coat and waved it.

“The others are going wild about it. You just left it without handing it out yourself… Tomorrow, there’s a whole line of people waiting to thank you. What are you going to do about that, huh? Me, I’m fine since I got to thank you in person.”

Apparently, some had felt slighted that Yuder hadn’t handed it out directly, just left it behind.

“Kanna said it was delicious. I’m gonna take it home and drink it with the whole family. Thanks again!”

Steber gave Yuder a hearty hug, slapped his back a couple of times, and laughed as he walked off.

Yuder straightened his ruffled collar and headed straight for the training hall.

‘Just like Steber said… the lights are on.’

There was a small glass window in the door to the indoor training hall. Through it, one could get a rough idea of who was training inside.

Someone was swinging a wooden weapon under a dim lamp, sweating profusely. Unlike a normal, disciplined training routine, his movements were rough and violent, as if baring his emotions with every strike.

‘It’s definitely Melvern.’

He didn’t look like his usual self, but it was undeniably him. Yuder opened the door without hesitation and walked in.

“What are you doing here?”

“…!”

The weapon Melvern had been swinging slipped from his sweat-slicked hand and flew through the air. Yuder extended a hand, and instead of flying off somewhere, it dropped harmlessly to the floor.

Melvern stared down at the fallen weapon, then crumpled to the floor.

The room reeked of sweat—almost enough to be mistaken for blood.

‘…Actually, judging by the state of his limbs, there is probably some blood mixed in.’

Yuder looked at Melvern’s battered arms and legs and asked quietly:

“Training should’ve ended already today. How many more hours have you been here?”

“…I’m not sure. I wasn’t keeping track of time.”

Melvern murmured in a hoarse voice.