Your Majesty Saren, the evacuation of West Sail Port is nearing its end. Following your instructions, we have taken over all assets belonging to the Southern Legion. The remaining facilities have been handed over to our puppets.
General Grove wishes for us to raise his bounty on the playing cards to fifteen million denars, as well as promote Centurion Gibson, whom he defeated... I would call this unreasonable, but his explanation makes some sense. He believes Gurion or Tyr forgot to raise his bounty and promote Centurion Gibson.
We also cannot understand why General Gurion appointed a one-star centurion to lead the southern front forces, but Centurion Olette, commander of the northern front forces fighting the Brahma Kingdom Northern Field Army and the Mammoth Kingdom Army, is indeed a two-star centurion. There is no doubt about that.
In any case, the decision is yours.
—West Sail Port Temporary Command, telegram
Tell him to go find Tyr himself.
—Nord City Palace, Eastern Empire, telegram
Lavenca Industrial Zone.
Beside the dust-filled construction site, swift figures darted through the streets like the wind.
Work was over. It was time for all things to come alive again.
The young men stepping off the assembly lines rushed out of the factories like ducks let loose, wave after wave heading home before wave after wave charged toward the market.
They had spent all their big money on bicycles, but they could still scrape together bits and pieces of loose change.
Saving up that spare cash, they haggled with the market vendors, trading for odds and ends from stalls large and small—nail clippers, markers, short-sleeved shirts, and the like.
They did not even know what use those things would be once brought home. They only felt that using a few tiny coins or scraps of paper