On the northern beaches of Bartoya Province, soldiers from Villant Province arrived aboard requisitioned fishing boats, docking at piers hastily built by the 117th Myriad.
A man in uniform held binoculars in his hand. Squinting as he swept his gaze across the surroundings, he took a long while before forcing out a sentence from his throat.
"...This is Bartoya Province?"
His name was Newman, commander of the 10th Myriad of the Villant Alliance.
Though he served in Triumph City, he had once worked as an instructor on the northern beaches of Bartoya Province many years ago.
He remembered a small town called Rhino Horn. The beach there resembled a rhinoceros's head, and whenever he had free time, he would rent a small boat, gather a few friends, and head out to sea to fish.
But now, let alone a village, even the concentration camp that had existed here for a time had been demolished without a trace. All that remained on the once beautiful beach were concrete bunkers blasted to pieces, shell craters, and sandbag fortifications.
Everything had changed.
And it had become hell.
The commander of the 11th Myriad happened to step off his ship as well. He pulled out a lighter, lit a cigarette, and narrowed his eyes as he took a drag while looking over the transformed land.
"It's changed a lot, hasn't it? Everything's gone back to how it was two hundred years ago, when the war had just ended. Looking on the bright side... at least Tyr didn't have so much high technology, and at least we hadn't become like this."
Newman's Adam's apple bobbed as he slowly nodded.
"Mm."
He still could not understand why Tyr had started such a stupid war, but he suddenly understood why the Academy had hidden away those pre-war