At the time, Helber had no idea how to respond.
He simply nodded in silence, carefully holding the box in both hands as though it were the most precious gift he had ever received.
Ten years had passed since that day.
Ten years since Galahad had pulled him out of the underworld, and ten years since he had begun his life as a soldier.
During that time, the world had undergone one unimaginable upheaval after another. The apocalypse had arrived, cities had collapsed, and the survivors had struggled to stay alive before slowly rebuilding what they had lost.
Now, as a new battle had just come to an end, Helber finally understood the true meaning of that gift from long ago.
The pair of knives had been shattered.
But Galahad's teachings remained whole in his heart.
He had once thought that being loyal to his captain meant defending every decision the man made. He had also believed that, as long as he was strong enough, he had the right to decide who deserved to be a leader.
But he had been wrong.
Loyalty did not mean blind obedience. A difference of opinion was not the same as betrayal. And a true soldier could not rely on his own strength alone to force his views on those around him.
More importantly, he had to learn to overcome disagreements alongside his comrades, to know when to speak up and when to place his trust in the group.
Helber gently closed his eyes.
Galahad's words from years ago echoed in his heart once more, as clearly as if the man were standing right in front of him.
-"A good soldier is one who never attacks his comrades for personal gain. A soldier worthy of trust is one willing to share every bite of food and every piece of clothing with his fellows. And a true comrade is one willing to weather hardship and storms alongside the others."
That voice was still steady and resolute, just as it had been back then.
-"I don't want you to return to that old path. Become the person I've always hoped you would be. Each of us gets only one life. If you can't become that person today, then at least remember not to lose your way. Understand, kid?"
Helber slowly opened his eyes.
He looked at Galahad standing before him, then bowed his head deeply.
This time, he no longer tried to find excuses for his own actions.
He understood.
...
Once everything had been settled, the tense atmosphere gradually faded.
Helber volunteered to prepare a meal for everyone himself, as an apology to those who had worried about him.
At first, everyone was a little surprised. But when they saw how unusually serious he looked, no one had the heart to refuse.
-"All right! Then we'll see what you're capable of in the kitchen today!"
Someone in the squad laughed, and the atmosphere immediately became more relaxed.
-"Remember, Helber! If it tastes bad, someone else is cooking next time!"
-"Hey! Are you questioning my abilities?"
Helber reacted instinctively as he always had, but this time he did not lose his temper. Instead, he merely snorted and turned to prepare the ingredients.
-"All right, all right! If you want a good meal, get over here and give me a hand!"
The children eagerly rushed over to help. Some sorted the vegetables, some prepared the utensils, and others stood nearby, curious to watch Helber handle the ingredients.
Before long, the cooking area was bustling.
The years Helber had spent with Galahad had taught him not only how to fight and obey discipline, but also more ordinary things: how to prepare a proper meal, care about others, or simply spend time with the people who had always stayed by his side.
In the past, Helber had known only how to fight for survival. He had never imagined that preparing a meal for someone else could be so satisfying.
But after joining Galahad, he had gradually learned to look after other people.
On some evenings, he was the one who prepared dinner for his aging captain. Sometimes, when Galahad returned exhausted after a long day's work, Helber knew to offer him a cup of hot water or sit down and listen to his stories.
Those little things had gradually changed him.
Now, watching the children happily helping him, Helber suddenly felt a warmth he could hardly describe.
He was no longer the drifter who had survived by the knife alone.
He had comrades, people who worried about him, and a place to return to after every battle.
Perhaps this was what Galahad had wanted him to understand from the very beginning.
...
Time passed slowly.
Outside, the winter wind continued to sweep through the ruined buildings. The sky gradually darkened to a deep gray, and gusts slipped through every crack, driving the temperature lower and lower.
Inside the shelter where everyone was staying, however, the atmosphere was entirely different.
Conversation, laughter, and the sounds of food being prepared mingled together, creating a rare sense of warmth in this turbulent world.
A low, warm guitar melody suddenly began to play.
No one knew who had picked up the instrument, but the tune soon drew everyone's attention. The notes flowed gently, bringing a sense of peace that helped those who had endured a tense day finally relax.
Some quietly hummed along, some sat by the fire to warm themselves, and others chatted while waiting for dinner.
After more than forty minutes, Helber finally finished cooking.
He carried the steaming dishes to everyone one by one. The aroma spread through the air, and the hungry children immediately cheered with excitement.
-"Finally, it's time to eat!"
-"That smells amazing! Helber, I didn't know you had this talent!"
-"Hmph! Don't underestimate me. I've been taking care of myself for years!"
Helber folded his arms and tried to look proud, but he could not hide the smile tugging at his lips.
Galahad sat nearby, watching him with a hint of satisfaction in his eyes.
He said nothing more, simply accepting the meal Helber handed him.
But for Helber, that single look was enough.
He knew Galahad understood what he had wanted to say.
The meal soon began amid cheerful laughter and conversation. Everyone passed dishes around and talked about what had happened that day, occasionally teasing Helber about the food he had made.
As the guitar continued, a few people began to sing along. At first there were only one or two voices, but before long, the others joined in.
Some sang off-key; others even forgot the lyrics. No one cared. What mattered was not who sang best, but that they could still sit together and share a rare moment of peace.
Chen Luo sat among them, quietly watching the scene before him.
After so many consecutive battles, repeated brushes with danger, and decisions that could determine the lives of the entire squad, he understood how precious moments like this were.
No one knew what tomorrow would bring.
Perhaps tomorrow they would have to take up their weapons again. Perhaps countless dangers still lurked along the road ahead. Perhaps one day they would face a loss none of them wanted to experience.
But at least, at this moment, they were all still here.
They could still laugh, talk, and share a hot meal together in the cold of winter.
That alone was enough to make the moment precious.
The guitar continued to resonate, mingling with the sincere, if imperfect, voices singing along.
Outside, the cold wind swept past the desolate buildings, carrying the harsh breath of a world that had never truly known peace.
But inside, the fire still burned, the food remained warm, and the comrades still sat close beside one another.
An ordinary meal, an ordinary evening, a moment when no one had to prove how strong they were.
And so the music and singing drifted through the old walls, spreading toward the silent roads in the distance and all the way to the horizon.