On the deck of the transport ship Nest of Salvation.
The bearded captain narrowed his eyes slightly as he looked toward the nearby harbor.
"Evernight Harbor... Come to think of it, the last time I passed through here was last year."
Standing beside him, Arman nodded, his gaze likewise fixed on the harbor.
"Yeah... It's changed so much I almost didn't recognize it."
The long, narrow piers were still as busy as ever, perhaps even busier than they had been at their peak.
The only difference was that the merchant ships and passenger liners once docked here had vanished, replaced by angular steel decks and towering gun barrels.
The Alliance fleet's constant harassment had forced the Southern Legion to strengthen patrols in the waters between Evernight Harbor and the far south, while organizing anti-submarine forces to escort supply convoys.
At the same time, Evernight Harbor had taken on the role of a "manpower transit station."
Reinforcements from the colonies and the homeland gathered here before taking ships to West Sail Harbor. Meanwhile, the wounded and disabled withdrawn from West Sail Harbor were transferred here to board ships home.
There were some idle young men standing on the distant shore, and Arman could easily tell which of them had returned from the front and which were preparing to head there.
They were like sugarcane endlessly fed into a juicer. Before going in, they stood tall and straight. When they came out, they were nothing but crushed pulp.
No one was exempt.
The real tough guys were all in coffins, or simply nowhere to be found. There was no way they could return from the front.
Without anyone noticing, this frontier town at the border between the eastern and western worlds had become the foremost front line where two forces collided.
Merchant