The aerial bombs fell, fire blossomed, and severed limbs turned to ash in the blazing flames.
Gwen stared blankly.
How many people had that desperate sword strike of hers killed? Ten? Fifty?
She did not know either.
But every time an aerial bomb exploded, a patch of the enemy formation was wiped clean—no less effective than her sword strike.
Yet she could only swing her sword once, while the bombs in the sky fell faster and faster.
In the blink of an eye, all that remained before her was a sea of fire.
Gwen looked at the battlefield engulfed in flames, confusion filling her eyes.
She had thought she was about to die, to die amid enemies that came in an endless tide.
But now, that tide had been forcibly blasted flat.
Looking at the airships in the sky and the Banshee before her, Gwen suddenly shuddered. A thought flashed through her mind like lightning, and a vague guess began to form.
She had once asked Isaac what kind of place Castel was.
Isaac had thought for a long time before finally saying that she should see it for herself. Everything about Castel was difficult to describe in words.
Looking at the somewhat unreal scene before her, Gwen nodded as if in sudden understanding.
If she had to describe it herself, she would not know where to begin.
The enemies who had driven her to fight until despair, whom even Nora's arrival could not stop, had been so casually driven back?
Like a carriage rolling over insects.
"Are you... people from Castel? The Expeditionary Force Mr. Isaac spoke of?"
"Well..." The tall figure hesitated for a moment, then suddenly pointed into the distance. "The Expeditionary Force is coming. We're only a reconnaissance unit."
Gwen woodenly watched the soldiers charging down