Yushikin had not set foot in the Shadow Court for a long time. Ever since Diego's downfall, this place had essentially been abandoned.
But regardless, the Eternal Bulwark, as the western front's strongpoint, had begun construction long before the Orks attacked Glamatia Province. The one who had ordered its construction was the ruler at the time—the Shadow Prince.
Naturally, a city built by him would have a core, and the Shadow Court was precisely that core.
The court lay deep within the soaring spire at the center of the Eternal Bulwark, high above the bustling city. Yushikin stood by the railing, leaning over to look down at the officers and soldiers busy preparing for the coming offensive.
After years of silence, they had once again stepped onto the stage of war, yet Yushikin felt strangely unsettled.
Unable to go to that desolate battlefield, fight shoulder to shoulder with his comrades, and weather danger alongside them left him feeling lost.
The last time he had personally gone to the front lines had been during the battle near Tyre. To him, it had been a humiliating defeat, both personally and in terms of his position.
He missed the days when he gathered with his fellow soldiers, speaking freely of past battles and future glory.
The brotherly bond between comrades could only truly be appreciated after it was taken away. Yet as the responsibilities on his shoulders grew heavier, those days had become ever more distant.
He gave a bitter smile and murmured,
"Sometimes, I even miss your stories about the old days, Diego."
Yushikin turned away from his vantage point above the city and unfolded the impossibly thin slip of paper he had found in the lining of the envelope.
Once again, he read the words Diego had hastily written in his