Chapter 258
Lara turned toward him expectantly, her dark eyes fixed on the young man who had suddenly appeared beside her.
Under her gaze, the young man unexpectedly faltered.
For a brief second, he looked almost nervous.
“Well…” he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “What’s your name?” He asked instead.
Lara blinked.
No one had ever asked her that question so casually before.
Most people around her either barked orders or addressed her as “young miss.”
Still, she answered honestly.
“Lara. How about yours.” She asked again.
The young man smiled.
“Aquilo,” he replied warmly. “Aquilo Vibora.”
“What a unique name.”
There was no mockery or hesitation in Lara’s tone—only straightforward curiosity.
Aquilo chuckled softly, his youthful face brightening.
“Credits to my father,” the eighteen-year-old boy said proudly. “Aquilo means eagle… though in some meanings, it’s also connected to the wind.”
“The wind…” Lara repeated quietly.
A rare smile slowly appeared on her face.
It was small and fleeting, but genuine.
For as long as she could remember, every coach, tutor, and instructor her father hired had been harsh and merciless.
They never cared if she cried. Never cared if she got hurt.
Whether it was bruises from combat training or cruel insults meant to “toughen her up,” none of them ever showed sympathy. To them, results were all that mattered.
As long as she learned… As long as she became stronger…As long as they earned their money…
Nothing else was important.
But Aquilo was different. His voice carried warmth, patience and gentleness.
He explained things slowly instead of shouting when she made mistakes. He even encouraged her to ask questions whenever she became confused.
It felt… strange. Strangely comforting.
“Alright,” Aquilo said with an easy smile. “Try starting the engine again.”
Lara nodded seriously. She inserted the key and turned the ignition.
The old jeep rumbled to life once more.
“Good,” Aquilo encouraged softly. “Now slowly release the clutch.”
Lara carefully lifted her foot—
—but in her nervousness, she stepped too hard on the accelerator.
The jeep suddenly lunged forward violently.
Lara’s face instantly turned pale.
Her heart nearly jumped out of her chest as the steering wheel jerked beneath her hands.
“Easy, easy—don’t panic.”
Aquilo’s calm voice immediately filled the cramped jeep. He was tempted to use the hand break but refrained from doing so.
Unlike the others, he did not yell at her. He did not curse. Instead, his steady voice guided her through the chaos.
“Hold the wheel firmly.”
“That’s it.”
“Slowly ease off the accelerator.”
“Good… now balance it.”
Bit by bit, the violently shaking jeep gradually steadied.
Lara’s breathing remained uneven, but the vehicle was finally moving smoothly across the empty training grounds.
Her eyes widened slightly.
She… did it.
Beside her, Aquilo grinned.
“See?” he said lightly. “You’re actually pretty good.”
Just as Lara began believing she had finally learned how to drive, reality immediately humbled her.
The old jeep suddenly swerved violently to the left.
“Ah—!”
Her hands panicked on the steering wheel, overcorrecting too quickly. The tires screeched against the rough dirt road as the vehicle headed straight toward a massive acacia tree near the edge of the training grounds.
Lara’s face drained of color.
In that split second, all she could think about was Artemio’s cold expression if she destroyed his precious military jeep.
“Brake, Lara.”
Aquilo’s calm voice cut through her panic like a steady anchor.
“Don’t fight the wheel too hard.”
But Lara’s breathing had already turned chaotic.
The closer they got to the tree, the more her mind blanked.
Seeing her freeze, Aquilo immediately reached over.
One hand steadied the steering wheel while the other gently pressed down on hers.
“Lara, don’t panic.”
Lara instinctively inhaled deeply and released.
Aquilo’s expression remained relaxed, as though they were not seconds away from crashing.
“You’re panicking because you’re staring at the tree,” he explained patiently. “If you focus on the obstacle, your body naturally drives toward it.”
His voice stayed calm and even.
“So stop looking at the tree. Look at the open space instead.”
Lara swallowed hard before forcing her gaze away from the looming trunk.
“There,” Aquilo guided softly. “Now slowly turn.”
The jeep jerked awkwardly—
—but narrowly missed the tree.
The vehicle came to a rough stop several meters away.
Silence filled the air except for Lara’s uneven breathing.
Her hands trembled so badly she could barely hold the wheel anymore.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then—
Aquilo suddenly laughed.
It was bright, carefree, and completely without ridicule.
“You almost killed us on your first day,” he teased lightly.
Lara stiffened.
“I-I’m sorry…”
To her surprise, Aquilo simply leaned back lazily against the passenger seat.
“That was actually normal,” he said casually. “Most beginners either hit a wall, fall into a ditch, or nearly cry during their first lesson.”
He glanced sideways at her.
“You only almost hit a tree. That’s already impressive. Considering you are just ten.”
Lara stared at him blankly, momentarily unable to respond.
No one had ever comforted her after making a mistake before.
Whenever she failed, punishment always came first.
The harsh criticism,
the cold disappointment in their eyes…
the pain that usually followed soon after.
To Lara, those things had long become normal. Expected. She had endured them for so many years that she no longer questioned them.
Failure meant punishment.
That was simply how the world worked.
But Aquilo…
Aquilo only smiled at her lightly, as though nearly crashing into a tree was not a disaster at all.
As though mistakes were natural.
As though she did not have to be perfect every single time.
And for the first time in her life, Lara realized how strange it felt to be treated gently after failing.
“Again?” he asked.
Lara looked at the old jeep’s trembling gear stick before slowly tightening her grip on the wheel once more.
Then she nodded.
“…Again.”
And under the blazing afternoon sun of the abandoned military camp, the rusted jeep lurched forward once more while Aquilo Vibora patiently taught a frightened ten-year-old girl how to drive without fear.