Kishiar assigned Melvern to the room right next to Yuder’s. Ever since regional branches were established, many members had moved out of the main lodging area, and that room was now vacant. It might have seemed a bit too modest for an envoy sent by the Crown Prince of a foreign nation, but Melvern expressed his satisfaction instead.

“I chose to stay at the Cavalry base to observe its facilities, after all. And really, this place isn’t all that different from where I live in Nellarun. The Cavalry members seem to live quite comfortably...”

Of course, if things went according to Yuder’s future plans, Melvern wouldn’t just be observing—he’d soon be rolling around the training grounds and experiencing everything firsthand. But unaware of that, Melvern simply smiled in awe.

‘Well. He’ll find out tomorrow anyway.’

Since he was already showing him to the room, Yuder decided to ask a few questions in advance.

“How much have your hands recovered?”

“Ah... I’d say about half.”

When Melvern removed his glove, Yuder saw that, indeed, his hands had returned to normal up to the palms.

‘Quite fast.’

“Were you aware that the aftereffects of your ability also appeared on your head, not just your hands?”

“Hm? So that’s what you call ability recoil?”

Melvern looked intrigued, scratching his head a little sheepishly.

“To be honest, this was the first time I tried maintaining the connection for so long, so I didn’t really know. My head... Now that you mention it, I do remember it felt itchy near the end.”

The black scales that had emerged on his scalp earlier were now completely gone as well.

“Could I ask how you’ve been training your power since Awakening?”

“His Highness advised me not to reveal it lightly, so... I’ve only been using it once a day to test it. Nothing more...”

“I see.”

“It’s not exactly pleasant to look at, after all. I agree with His Highness. But you were surprised, weren’t you?”

Though Melvern seemed rather calm, it was clear he understood his ability wasn’t exactly presentable. He’d accepted that training openly was difficult, and without knowing how to improve, he figured this was the best he could do.

‘I’ll have to show him tomorrow that it’s not.’

With all the background information secured, all that was left was to design an appropriate training program for him.

“If anything is inconvenient, feel free to come next door and call for me.”

“Yes, thank you. Haha! To think the Empire’s hero is staying right next to me—how reassuring. His Highness would be so envious if he knew...”

Yuder let Melvern’s words pass in one ear and out the other as he closed the door. Off in the distance, beyond the open hallway window, he spotted a group of Cavalry members gathered outside. At their center, he saw a head of vivid red hair. That made it easy to guess what was going on.

‘Those must be the followers of Nathan Zuckerman that Gakein mentioned.’

The location was the rear training ground. Using a faint touch of wind to hear what Gakein was saying, Yuder let the breeze carry the sound to his ear as the window swung open.

‘So, when Sir Zuckerman arrives tomorrow, you send the signal right away. Don’t forget, the most important thing is to gather at the designated spot as quickly as possible. For fast movement, you need to time your ability activation just right—!’

He was planning and double-checking what needed to be done the moment Nathan Zuckerman arrived. That kind of passion and persistence was so very Gakein—it seemed he was determined to not miss the chance to celebrate Sir Zuckerman, even if he was a Swordmaster.

‘No need to worry about failure, then.’

With preparation like that, they’d surely make Zuckerman’s new title unforgettable in the capital.

Yuder looked upon their enthusiasm for a moment with quiet satisfaction, then turned to head back to his room.

What greeted him upon his return, in a relatively lighthearted mood, was a letter that had arrived while he was out.

—Urgent! Immediate attention required!!

The unnecessarily elegant handwriting bore the bold and unashamed name of Kiole la Diarca.

So the guy he had planned to visit soon had sent a letter first?

Yuder frowned as he opened it.

The message was brief:

—A huge amount of stuff is going down. I want to talk face-to-face. I can’t come to you, so you come to me.

“......”

Admittedly, it was better than him showing up at the Cavalry unannounced again—but boldly putting his full name on the envelope meant the letter had no pretense of secrecy. It was so stupid, Yuder didn’t know what to say.

‘And he used the Imperial telegraph service too. At least a few people would’ve seen both the sender and recipient’s names before it arrived here. And yet it still made it to my room safely...’

Most likely, this meant Emperor Keillusa—who was surely keeping an eye on Kiole—had approved this letter reaching Yuder. Which meant that Kiorne probably also knew Kiole had contacted the Cavalry.

Kiole la Diarca, with seemingly no prior connection to the Cavalry.

What would House Diarca make of this?

‘...No. If Kiole believes he’s placed himself under the Emperor’s protection, he might view this as part of that arrangement.’

The fact that he sent something like this on the ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) same day the Crown Prince attended trial was bound to be interpreted politically.

Kiole himself clearly had no idea.

But would others be as oblivious?

At dawn, while most were still asleep—

A tall man in the uniform of the Peleta Knights walked toward the Cavalry headquarters, his back to the first rays of sunlight.

His name was Nathan Zuckerman. Having left Peleta, he had finally returned to the capital.

Ordinarily, it would have been a quiet, uneventful return.

But today, something was different.

‘.......’

With the entrance just ahead, Nathan Zuckerman found himself coming to a halt without thinking.

Built wide enough to fit three carriages side by side—per his commander’s ambitious vision of making this a hub for many—stood the main gates of the Cavalry.

And something was fluttering there.

Something that scattered in the breeze like beaded silk threads—when examined closely, revealed to be small, colorful flowers strung together.

The flowers, draped like curtains across the entire gate, framed a massive message written on white fabric in bold, magnificent letters:

[WELCOME] THE NORTH WIND'S SWORD RETURNS TO THE CAPITAL [NATHAN ZUCKERMAN]

The lettering was extravagant—almost as if it had been inscribed by magic. Even writing at that scale took enormous effort, and the calligraphy was so skillful it could probably be seen from the capital gates themselves.

Zuckerman recognized the handwriting immediately—it belonged to his commander.

Expressionless, he stood there in silence for a long moment as the cold morning wind whispered around him.

“......”

Just as he finally looked away and began to turn—

“He’s here!”

“Sir Zuckerman!”

The gates burst open, and a loud cheer erupted.

“Welcome back, Sword of the North Wind!”

“Waaah!”

Despite the training schedule saying most should still be in dreamland, over a dozen members came flooding out, shouting at the top of their lungs. Before Zuckerman could even react, they surrounded him in applause.

At the rear of the group, appearing last with a shy smile, was the red-haired beauty Gakein Bollenvalt, holding a carefully arranged bouquet.

“Sir Zuckerman... No, Sword of the North Wind!”

“......”

“We couldn’t just sit still after hearing the news, and I’m so glad we could welcome you like this. This bouquet was made by everyone who owes you or respects you. And once again, congratulations!”

The members erupted into applause again. Each began yelling about how shocked they’d been to learn he was a Swordmaster, and how deeply moved they were by his feats in the north. Though the chaotic chorus made it impossible to discern any single statement, the spirit was heartfelt.

Nathan Zuckerman glanced down at the bouquet Gakein shyly held out, took it into his hands, and then lifted his gaze toward the distance.

Beyond the fluttering flowers and banner, far above the main gate—lay the Commander’s office.

And for some reason, it looked impossibly far away today.