The blazing sunlight merged with the rippling surface of the lake, casting a brilliant shimmer. In stark contrast to the glittering water, a grand structure loomed with an almost oppressive presence. Stretching in a gentle curve from land out into the water was the lakeshore wall. It carved a semicircle out of the lake, enclosing and concealing the fortified harbor.

“No wonder Highserk’s pitiful navy couldn’t bring it down. This is on a completely different level.”

Peering through the soot-stained porthole, Walm could only stare in stunned disbelief, his envy already giving way to resignation. The structure served more than just the functions of a military harbor. The lakeshore wall had been built to defend the port from enemy ships and aquatic monsters, while also acting as a breakwater to shield the port from waves. In the distance, two defense ships kept a vigilant watch, forming a patrol line to prevent any surprise assault into the bay. It was clear that Anxio, the central city of the Selta peninsula, was not just a stronghold relying on natural defenses.

Many vessels from warships to merchant ships were tied to the dock, and the military vessel that had carried Walm joined the line. With a thunderous splash, the anchor dropped into the water. Shouted orders followed as ropes were thrown toward the pier.

Highserk soldiers poured out continuously from the planks stretched across the ship’s side, spilling onto the dock. The repeated motion almost resembled industrial goods being shipped out in a steady flow. Though they stood in firm formation, a force the size of a full company occupied considerable space, so they couldn’t keep the pier tied up forever.

Company commander Friug issued detailed instructions while busily directing the movement of the troops. Walm, on the other hand, killed time in a quiet corner where he wouldn’t interfere with the unloading. Fortunately, the bustle of ropes, hoisted cargo and other unfamiliar sights moving back and forth during the unloading helped relieve his boredom.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.”

The person he had hoped to see appeared without warning. The voice was nostalgic. Turning around, Walm greeted him with a broad grin.

“Ah, it’s been a while. Lost a little weight?”

Despite being about the same age as Walm, the man’s receding hairline and protruding belly gave him the appearance of a worn-out merchant. Perhaps it was his natural temperament, combined with the years he spent working as an attendant that had cultivated such a reassuring demeanor.

“Not at all. As you can see, I’m doing my best just to maintain the current situation. Unlike in Highserk, there’s plenty seafood here.”

He proudly pushed out his belly like a small drum. The seafood now stored inside it was surely satisfied with its final resting place. Walm firmly shook the hand Moritz offered.

“Deborah and Yogim both volunteered to guide you, but if you’ll allow me the honor, I’ll take the role myself.”

“They’re both well then? What are they up to now?”

Walm asked about the current circumstances of the companions who had once served under his command during the defense of Dandurg Castle.

“Lady Deborah is training the new recruits. Yogim and Moiz are assisting her. These days she spends her time throwing the recruits to the ground and kicking their backsides on the training field. It’s become her hobby.”

“I can picture it. I just hope she doesn’t accidentally crush them bare-handed.”

“They say she handles them as gently as if they were kittens.”

“That’s good to hear.”

The image was amusing. Those hot-blooded recruits being treated like adorable kittens by Deborah. After confirming each other’s well-being, Moritz extended his hand in a gesture urging Walm onward.

“I’ll show you around as we walk.”

Walm followed behind his stout guide. Though the harbor fascinated him, he couldn’t openly gawk at everything. The sailors and soldiers passing by had no time to politely step aside for just two men. The gatehouse that doubled as a city gate was large enough for even a dragon to pass through, yet it remained a traffic bottleneck. Amid the physical congestion, numerous stares brushed across Walm’s skin. It wasn’t simply curiosity toward a Highserk soldier, and some of those looks were far from friendly.

“Unfortunately there are quite a few people in Mayard who don’t want Highserk throwing its weight around here.”

Moritz spoke as they moved along the lakeshore wall after pushing through the crowd.

“They say it’s nothing more than switching masters from Felius to Highserk. Considering how many Highserk troops are stationed in Selta, their attitude isn’t exactly unreasonable.”

There was a saying: Let them get a foot in the door and they’ll take the whole house. Considering Highserk’s past actions, such fears weren’t entirely unfounded.

“Even if we’re allies now, it’s not pleasant having a former enemy strolling through your garden.”

“Mayard allowed Highserk troops to be stationed in Selta because of their manpower shortage and their connections with past Highserk soldiers. They understand the necessity. Besides, I’d say Highserk has learned some consideration.”

“How come?”

“The one handling coordination and acting as a buffer between the two countries, and especially the militaries is brigade commander Justus. He’s now affiliated with Mayard. Apparently, the old regional army of Highserk invited him to help rebuild the Highserk Empire, but he refused. Said he couldn’t waver after everything that happened. Without him, the alliance between our nations wouldn’t have progressed this smoothly, so his contributions are huge.”

That was the name of the commander who had united soldiers and civilians alike in Dandurg Castle, sharing their hardships. Though Walm had never dealt with him directly as one was commanding an isolated fortress, and the other fighting on the front lines, Justus’s efforts had been vital to holding the makeshift walls. At the same time, he had been the one to dangle the bait of regular troops before Walm and elevate him to the position of wartime battalion commander.

“He’s still a brigade commander? Even in Mayard?”

“As Mayard rebuilt itself, it adopted a military structure similar to Highserk and Libertoa. The Grand Duchess believes that unequal or subordinate relationships would only repeat the mistakes of Felius. An equal partnership… that’s what Selta strongly demands now.”

“…Things have changed.”

Walm murmured. Looking toward the warehouses built along the lakeshore wall, he saw soldiers from both nations gesturing animatedly as they discussed something in front of stacks of stored supplies. Perhaps they were arranging shipments or planning work procedures. The scene wasn’t refined, but the sight of them striving together toward a common goal was strangely encouraging.

“With Felius gone, none of us can afford to remain unchanged, for better or worse. Not just Highserk, but every surrounding nation.”

Just as Highserk had once stood on the brink of destruction, Mayard had also been on the verge of collapse. And now there was the example of the fallen nation of Felius serving as a warning. Seeing firsthand how the people of a destroyed nation were treated had a way of changing both individuals and countries.

Chatting idly, Walm and Moritz passed through the warehouse district near the harbor and entered the city of Anxio itself. The city had prospered since the days of the Former Kingdom of Canoa, and its layout was remarkably orderly.

“Quite a well-planned city, huh.”

“At the time, the Kingdom of Canoa still had resources to spare devoted itself to building the city. Regrettably, it differs vastly from the Empire, whose cities were built on patchwork history.”

His tone carried both envy and sarcasm. The imperial capital Variguend had expanded piece by piece as the Empire itself grew in size. Defense had always been the top priority, while city planning and district organization were treated as secondary concerns. The result was a city that neglected both convenience and living space. Ironically, the half-rebuilt capital after its destruction functioned more rationally as an urban center than it ever had before. A bitter sort of irony indeed.

If there was one concern, it was that Anxio’s urban defenses were thin compared to the military harbor, perhaps even fragile. However, to Walm’s eyes, this appeared to be the result of intentionally concentrating resources into two key areas.

The harbor, serving as the gateway from the water, was protected by a powerful navy and the lakeshore wall that blocked any enemy approach. The land route, on the other hand, was guarded by mountain passes that lined the base of the peninsula. The few roads available were steep and narrow, often cutting through rock with cliffs on either side. Such terrain was perfect for a small force to hold off a large army.

Unlike the Crest Kingdom, which had relied on distance and the buffer state of Felius to guard against the Great Rampage, Selta had repelled the disaster on its own. If they had wasted resources reinforcing the city itself, the result might have been nothing but mountains of rubble and corpses.

People who had lost their land and livelihood, sitting down with no will to live left. Soldiers who had lost arms or legs begging in the streets. Those were the grim sights Walm knew from occupied territories and war-torn regions.

But the scene before him was completely different. Citizens bustled through the streets, merchants called out to customers, fresh fish lined the storefronts, and newly delivered goods were arranged for sale. It was a healthy, vibrant sight. The soldiers who appeared to be from Highserk passed by without causing trouble or behaving arrogantly. Children no taller than Walm’s chest ran past him laughing, swinging sticks as they played.

There was no blood, no spilled entrails, no stench of rot. Just a game of make-believe.

“…So this is peace. Peace…”

The words felt heavy in his mouth. It was a sensation he had long forgotten since arriving in this world. The ordinary life he once yearned for had become something extraordinary.

“That over there is the residence of the Grand Duchess of Mayard.”

Following Moritz’s words, Walm raised his gaze. The city’s symbolic castle, a flatland castle enclosed by walls, came into view. Though it lacked a moat, horseshoe-shaped side towers stood at regular intervals along the walls.

“I thought the castle defenses would be light too. My mistake.”

“This is the governing center of the peninsula. The city itself isn’t enclosed, but the lady’s residence still requires proper defenses.”

A sturdy castle reassured its people and intimidated enemies. Material displays of strength had their uses.

“This way.”

Guided by Moritz, Walm passed through a corner of the castle gate and entered. After navigating several corridors and crossing a garden, Moritz finally stopped.

The solitary building in front of them appeared to be a church that also served as a clinic. The fact that those entering and leaving were all injured or sick only confirmed it. Strangely, their faces were not twisted with despair. Perhaps the treatment inside gave them hope.

“Just like me, she must’ve been waiting for this moment for two years.”

That was enough for Walm to understand. Two years. While she had spent that time healing others, Walm had spent half of it drowning in alcohol. The thought made him feel deeply ashamed.

His throat felt dry, and his legs were as heavy as lead. Embarrassingly enough, battle felt far more familiar to him than this. Why was he hesitating? Walm scolded himself and stepped onto the grounds.

The soles of his boots tapped sharply against the stone pavement. He pressed his hand against the door and pushed. The heavy oak door was reinforced with iron plates hammered in with rivets, adding to its imposing weight. Even putting his strength into it, he barely managed to push it fully open.
The room inside was simple, lacking the gaudy ornamentation often associated with churches driven by offerings and wealth. Compared to the clinics Walm had seen before, the word modest suited it well. The only decoration was the stained glass set into the windows. Colored by dyes, the glass shone brilliantly as it caught the light.

“What business do you have, Highserk soldier?”

Several soldiers blocked his path. Judging by their equipment, they were a mixed group of former Felius soldiers, Mayard troops and Highserk soldiers. It looked like a showcase of armor styles. If soldiers from Crest and Libertoa joined them, it would represent the entire northern region.

Their tone was polite, but their posture remained cautious. It was only natural they would be wary of him. When an unknown soldier arrived fully armed, only a fool would let their guard down.

“…I came to have my eyes treated, and to meet an old friend.”

“Well, that—”

“He’s Guardian Chief Walm, a guest of Lady Ayane.”

Moritz, who had followed him in through the open doorway, spoke up on his behalf. Judging from the way he acted, he seemed to be familiar with the soldiers.

“Guardian Chief… the Demon Fire user. I’ve heard the rumors.”

“Hellfire Beacon, huh?”

Unlike the excited Highserk soldiers, the Felius and Mayard guards continued observing Walm with appraising eyes. It wasn’t exactly a pleasant gaze but still preferable to being called by that embarrassing nickname.

“I’m afraid we must ask that you leave your weapons here.”

Following their eyes, Walm saw the fixed shelves along the wall. It was a silent but unmistakable request. With little choice, Walm complied. He set the halberd resting on his shoulder onto the rack, along with the sword hanging at his waist and several smaller blades. Of course, weapons alone couldn’t eliminate danger entirely when magic and skills existed, but it was still a precaution. Walm extended his arms and showed his palms.

He had no interest in being frisked by another man, but he wasn’t stubborn enough to insist on special treatment just because he knew the person inside. Given her rare ability, such measures were necessary, and back then, when Walm himself had served as both guard and watcher, he had carried out the same procedure.

“She’s currently in the middle of treatment. It may take a few hours.”

“That’s fine. I’m used to both waiting and making others wait.”

Several patients who had finished their treatment left the church. Their steps were light and unburdened. In the waiting room, one person would be added, then another would leave. After repeating this cycle many times, a soldier approached Walm and whispered to him.

“You may go inside now.”

Taking a breath, Walm followed.

Letting out a quiet breath, Walm followed the invitation. Beds were lined up inside, and medical instruments filled the room. The familiar scent of incense drifted through the air.

A girl stood inside.

She looked a little more mature than he remembered. While Walm struggled to find the right words to say, the girl spoke without hesitation.

“Welcome back.”

“…Yeah. I’m back. Sorry it took so long.”

Looking slightly embarrassed, Walm answered Ayane.

No more words were necessary.

Translator – Lyxxna