Turning-Chapter 828

A deafening explosion shook the air like never before.

When the shockwave surged through, those who had instinctively raised their arms to shield their faces finally regained their senses—only to be struck speechless by the sight before them.

“Wh-what is this...?”

The combined attack of several Awakeners—an assault strong enough to annihilate anything in its path—had been blocked. Perfectly. By just two people.

Yuder Aile, facing the Sage's side. Kishiar la Orr, holding off Naham's allies.

It was a scene so impossible that even seeing it with their own eyes, no one could believe it. Neither spoke. They didn’t even glance at each other to check if the other was unharmed. They simply reset their stances with cool precision.

Kishiar, clad in a soft glow of blue Aura, lightly flicked his sword and smiled gently, without a word.

Yuder, in stark contrast, stood cold and poised, his face unreadable and his form ready to strike at any moment.

They seemed like polar opposites in appearance and demeanor—but in this moment, that very contrast made them feel like two perfectly interlocking halves of a whole.

No one spoke. Not even the Sage or Naham. Because it was clear—this kind of coordination and confidence between two people could only be built on absolute trust that the other would hold the line behind them.

In the heavy silence, it was Kishiar la Orr’s gentle voice that finally broke through.

“It seems we’re lucky today. We’ve managed to meet the very people the Cavalry has been pursuing all at once.”

“......”

“I had a feeling we’d run into you soon, though I can’t say I expected it here, of ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) all places. Surely you didn’t think there’d be no consequences for creating such chaos at a funeral? Well, got anything to say?”

“...Naham. You really did this, didn’t you?”

The Sage was the first to respond—his eyes fixed not on Kishiar, but on Naham.

Though he wasn’t quite as wrecked as Naham, he was still a mess. The once-meticulously trimmed and combed beard was tangled and filthy. Blood-black lines of overuse streaked across his face and skin—scars from channeling too much power through his body.

But it wasn’t just the physical damage that made him look so degraded.

His voice, once smooth and confident, was now rough and ragged. His bloodshot eyes radiated uncontrollable rage and frustration. It was all written plainly on his face.

“You kidnapped Diemon and lured me here... and then you even brought the Cavalry down on us—!”

Read latest chapters at freёweɓnovel.com Only.

“For someone who abandoned everyone to come here alone, you sure play the victim well. Our dear Sage,” Naham sneered, casting his eyes downward with a scornful smile. “Dropped the whole ‘this one’ act too, have you?”

His voice dripped with contempt as he looked at the Sage’s trembling beard.

“Not that I didn’t expect you to try something like this.”

“Stop lying already! Because of you, the Star of Nagran has lost its chance! Do you have any idea how long it took to make that opportunity? You’ve ruined everything! You killed the Star, tried to kill me—and what then? You think you’ll be the one who walks away from all this?!”

“My goal has never changed. Maybe you’re asking because you never once cared about it yourself.”

“Naham!”

The mutual hatred and betrayal, the weight of everything they’d lost, all of it clouded them. They stood so close to the truth—but refused to reach for it.

The suspicion that either might have allied with the Cavalry? That was nothing compared to what already stood between them.

The Sage wasn’t angry because he thought Naham had betrayed him. He was furious because his grand plan—crafted over years—was crumbling before his eyes. He’d climbed so close to the top, poised to seize power, and in a single moment it had all fallen apart. The total collapse of Nagran’s support was something he’d never even imagined.

Naham, on the other hand, had long since twisted under the weight of so-called belief. Once he realized that, vengeance against the Sage became more important than anything else. He was a man who’d always been willing to sacrifice anything for his ideals. Now he would continue his crusade even if it meant destroying himself.

They no longer questioned how things had come to this.

Reacting to the Sage’s fury, his enthralled followers began to convulse and howl—then, as if possessed, raised their weapons again. The few who had broken free from his mind control with Naham’s illusionary powers responded in kind.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

“They’re not even paying attention to the Cavalry anymore,” Kishiar remarked casually, standing right in the eye of the coming storm.

“Which means the identity of the traitor doesn’t matter to them anymore,” Yuder answered, voice quiet and calm despite the chaos rising around them.

Kishiar’s opening words had been intentionally ambiguous, likely to provoke misunderstandings. That tactic had clearly worked—maybe too well.

“As we agreed, I’ll take the Sage.”

“I’ll handle the other one.”

“Understood. Gakein! Kurga! Help secure the perimeter!”

The moment the words left Yuder’s mouth, he leapt toward the Sage.

Time slowed in his eyes.

The Sage’s mouth opened—slowly—shouting orders to his followers.

“Naaahaaam—get—to—him—now—! And—the—Cavalry—!”

He was furious, yes—but also panicked. His eyes darted frantically, looking for an escape route, willing to abandon anyone to get away again.

Who would still call such a man a Sage, seeing him now?

Yuder had once wondered if this was even the same man he’d met in his previous life. But no—this was unmistakably Diemon. That same cowardly wretch who only confessed his crimes after being beaten half to death by Yuderain Aile.

Yuder deflected the barrage of attacks with a flick of his sword—this time allowing the rebound to echo fully through the air.

The resulting shockwave was monstrous.

“Guh...!”

“Aagh!”

The sheer force of it sent several Awakeners flying, screaming as they tumbled. There had been explosive collisions and deflected blows earlier, but this was different.

This felt like a hurricane. An unstoppable force.

“Uuuhh...”

The mind-controlled fighters moaned, recoiling in fear even in their entranced state. Their instincts—their primal drive to survive—could not overcome the weight of the force bearing down on them.

Yuder took that opportunity.

He gripped his sword in one hand and imbued his other with wind. Shifting the weight and changing the angle of the strike, he swung. Even a one-handed blow could carry the force of a two-handed strike—or more—if used properly.

An enemy swordsman struck at him. But the moment their blades touched, Yuder’s shifted, sliding past effortlessly. The enemy’s stance broke. Yuder drove a palm into his solar plexus, wind bursting out on contact. The man flew back like a ragdoll, limbs limp.

He didn’t even glance back.

The next foe had just raised her weapon when Yuder swept her feet out and splashed water in her face. She collapsed before she could scream.

Another attacker—slow and heavy, a body-type Awakener—got a clean shot to the back of the head.

The fourth tried to channel elemental energy, but Yuder used the opposite element to counter and knocked him unconscious instantly.

Four down in the blink of an eye.

The combination of power and movement was perfectly tuned, each motion surgically efficient. The enemies fell before they even knew they were being struck.

“No! What is this?! What the hell—!”

The Sage’s shriek cut through the chaos.

His mind control was certainly dangerous—but as a mental-type Awakener, he lacked any real combat ability.

And unlike Naham, he’d never fought Yuder before.

That made all the difference.