January 1, Year 2 of the New Calendar
Dong!
As a deep, lingering bell rang out, the soldiers welcomed their first new year atop the battered city walls.
It was also the new year for the entire Flame Capital. Over the past year, its bugs had reclaimed their entire homeland beneath the radiance of the Sunfire God.
Yet on a day that should have been filled with celebration, the workers did not clock out, and the production lines did not stop. Even as mounts died of exhaustion in batch after batch, the convoys kept running.
There were no festive decorations or victory drinks. Everything continued as usual.
All because the war was still raging.
Before the war began, the soldiers at the Smelting Site had enjoyed the happiest days of their lives.
At the Sunrise Festival, they had gathered with their loved ones, recounting past hardships and praising the radiance of the Sunfire God.
Now, however, there was no fine wine, no campfire. Only cold steel and death kept them company.
Though today was no different from yesterday, a shadow had settled over the Bugfolk's hearts. Its name was exhaustion.
When would this war finally end?
The soldiers never feared death, but the need to remain alert every waking moment clearly drained them more than fighting for their lives.
The Void War, which had begun with the Smelting Plant's plea for help, had lasted more than two months, yet still showed no sign of ending.
The soldiers were growing weary, and the walls were crumbling beneath the relentless assaults.
Yet the corpses crawling up from the bottom of the mine seemed endless.
The only difference was that their appearances and clothing grew increasingly ancient.
It was as though every slumbering dead soul in this land had been forcibly roused.
In