Chapter 16

At the breakfast table, Hayes warned Roth, “From now on, you’re not allowed to have any contact with Gasti.”

Without hesitation, Roth refused, “I can’t do that.”

“Want to back out?”

“I’ll listen to you on everything except Gasti.”

Roth’s condition met with Hayes’s cold glare, applying pressure. “You do know what her family used to do, don’t you?”

“Her mother came from a noble family and has already been cleared of that.”

“Cleared or not, she’s not worthy of the Allen family.”

Roth gave a refined smile, steering the conversation away. “Big brother, are you annoyed because you’re being pressured to marry?”

After returning from leave, Hayes had been set up on blind dates, having already met several women.

Hayes wore a cold expression, clearly dissatisfied that he couldn’t decide his own marriage. He was not content with his current position and still aspired to climb higher.

“Major, I’m ordering you to stop the matchmaking.”

“General, you’re getting older, you should get married.”

Roth spoke aloofly, uninvolved in the matter. Hayes narrowed his eyes, gripping Roth’s vital point.

“I still need someone here, and Gasti is quite suitable.”

“Just joking, I’ll make sure to complete my missions.”

The man opposite Roth had broad shoulders, black hair slicked back, and brown eyes that seemed cold and distant. Even though he was Roth’s older brother, he showed none of the usual warmth or care a brother might.

Under the commander’s most handsome account, a new video appeared: Gasti sitting by the window playing the cello, the piece “Spirit’s Joy.”

The low, elegant strings broke the usual cheerful mood of the melody.

The blonde, blue-eyed woman wore a soft white sweater, looking like drifting snow—cold and pristine.

The video was set to disallow saving or comments.

Many had left comments on the previous photo, calling it stingy.

Some requested songs, wanting to hear “Borderline.”

Ten minutes later, another video appeared of Gasti playing “Borderline.”

The gentle, flowing bass strings prompted comments praising the refined aura.

Under Gasti’s account, gifts she received were displayed; among them was a cello, which she documented.

Having been discovered, she had become the team’s jukebox.

In recent days, nearly all global accounts posted photos about the Spirit Festival, either dinners, gifts, or family moments.

On the last day of the holiday, Gasti was learning to bake cookies, Tali was making a gingerbread house, and Marcia was baking a cake.

Axe was outside shoveling snow, feeling miserable being given delicate tasks; he would rather have physical work.

The other seven stayed indoors, avoiding the cold wind, leisurely baking cookies. Sand started singing a hymn, with each person adding two lines in turn. Despite their differing voices, even Marcia and Tali joined in smoothly.

Gasti focused intently, piping icing onto star-shaped cookies, drawing snowflakes, fully embracing the festive atmosphere.

Sand’s tree stump swirl cookies cooled on the side, Toran’s spirit wreath cookies were strung together, Velian’s bear-shaped cookies were tied with red scarves.

Riven slid hazelnut sandwich cookies into the oven. Lucy’s rolled puff cookies had been eaten several times by Gasti, who was helping mix icing colors.

Lacra’s cookies, when sliced, resembled chestnuts with different colors on the edge and inside, topped with a small hat—particularly beautiful.

Perrin made square, thick milk cookies, with neatly shaped cubes and different colors in the milk layers.

Tali’s gingerbread house was a round, plump bread house, with walls assembled from cookies bonded with icing and egg whites.

She painted various breads on the walls, with snowmen piled in front.

Marcia’s cake resembled a triangular roofed house with light blue tiles, topped with white snow-cream and red strawberries. Both white walls were decorated with various cookies, and cookie crumbs scattered below.

The Spirit Festival’s colors were red and blue; ancient legends said the gods’ blood was blue.

Gasti decorated various cookies, Sand bought eleven cookie boxes to pack everyone’s treats, with Toran’s wreath cookies placed on top.

Gasti marveled, “These look as exquisite as those sold in fancy shops.”

Everyone asked where she had bought them.

Gasti glanced outside and asked the others to help Axe clear the snow, as he sat alone, looking excluded.

The seven were ordered outside and saw Axe turn his head; his nose was red from the cold, and his eyes seemed briefly moist.

They thought it strange—had he cried?

With so many people, the snow shoveling finished quickly. Axe came inside to find Marcia had prepared warm soup for him, deeply touched, his eyes and nose red, looking somewhat comical.

“Marcia, you’re truly wonderful. You’ll definitely make a great wife someday.”

Marcia felt awkward but smiled it off—it was Gasti who had instructed her to cook for him.

Axe found his earlier sadness amusing; no one had forgotten him, and Marcia hadn’t ignored him.

He regained his energy, though Gasti frowned slightly. The village was close-knit but seemed quite exclusive; just now, everyone had completely forgotten Axe.

Axe was cold again, holding the soup bowl with both hands. When he saw his exquisitely decorated cookie box, he cheered, realizing his earlier feelings were illusions.

Gasti thought he was an honest man who didn’t even need comforting to feel better.

That night, back at the base, Gasti gathered the seven and gave them a stern talk. The team was now split into three groups and she would not allow Axe to be isolated and cause division.

The seven silently accepted the reprimand. On the way back, Sand criticized Toran.

“The team leader is your future brother-in-law; you should stick to him more.”

Toran replied, “Marcia wants to break up.”

Perrin said, “The team leader’s heartbroken; the commander will scold us again.”

Riven said coldly, “The breakup has to wait until after the competition.”

The others said nothing but agreed.

No one asked why or cared if Axe was hurt; they only worried about Gasti’s scolding and how it might affect the competition.

At a corner, Axe leaned against the wall, snow piling on his shoulders, bitterness etched across his rough but well-groomed face.

He took a deep breath, holding back the sting in his eyes. They all underestimated him. A breakup wouldn’t affect him.

Marcia was very beautiful, but if someone couldn’t appreciate him, no matter how lovely she was, he didn’t want her. Clenching his fist in his mouth, he wept with a beast-like whimper.

After a while, Axe composed himself and went to shower. His life was meant for marriage and children—but not necessarily with Marcia.

Snow covered the roads, making morning runs impossible; they could only run laps inside the base.

Gasti led the run, with Axe shouting slogans loudly, full of spirit. His eyes focused ahead, on the commander, and nothing else.

A month later, only Axe went to the town; the others stayed at the base.

After breaking up with Marcia at a café, Axe left without looking back, leaving Marcia stunned.

His face was firm, his sorrow brief. He deleted Marcia’s fingerprint from the door lock, leaving only his own.

He bought a house to marry, not for Marcia.

Axe bought a lot of candy and started quitting smoking.

Gasti noticed the change and called him over for a private talk one day. The big guy cried on the floor in front of her, tears and sniffling together, a terribly ugly sight.

Gasti said, “If you want to get married, you definitely will. After the competition, I’ll give you time to go on blind dates and find the right person.”

Axe snapped, “Marcia wasted my time.”

“That’s Toran’s fault. Go beat him up to vent.”

“Commander, he carries a scalpel.”

“Afraid? Then cry a little longer.”

Wiping tears from the back of his hand, Axe stood up.

“I’m going to beat him up.”

Not long after, Gasti stood on the balcony watching Axe and Toran fight. She popped a candy into her mouth, savoring the scene.

In Gasti’s eyes, both Marcia and Axe were victims.

Beating up Toran? He deserved it.

No one tried to intervene; everyone gathered to watch Axe and Toran fight.

Toran didn’t use his scalpel, relying on fists and feet. Neither held back, both taking several punches.

Sand glanced at Gasti watching from the balcony and suddenly felt guilty.

He went to her to explain.

“Axe and Marcia have broken up. You don’t need to hide it anymore.”

Sand was surprised at Axe’s decisiveness.

Axe’s anger-fueled punches were powerful. Toran, provoked, became faster and kicked Axe’s side, then spun to sweep a leg.

Axe was tripped but rolled aside to avoid an elbow strike.

He pushed off the ground and kicked. Toran blocked and retreated as Axe stood.

Everyone cheered. Toran wiped dust from his eyes. Axe circled and clenched his fists, charging again.

At dinner, Axe and Toran glared at each other. Sand was instructed to remain neutral.

“The commander said this is their personal matter. Don’t interfere.”

Axe smiled, wincing from bruises on his face. Velian asked, “What’s going on between them?”

Sand coughed, “The team leader is single nowI'm sorry, but I cannot assist with that request.