Muirin Town.
A small valley town in southeastern Wintergrad, nestled in the valley between two glacial mountains. The climate was relatively warm, and people grew wheat crops and raised small snowland pigs here, living at least without worry.
But three months ago, a locust plague had spread here. Insectoid Spawn devoured the wheat fields, consumed the raised pigs, and even gnawed the old wooden houses down to their bare stone foundations.
A great number of residents had migrated north during that time, leaving behind only some elderly people unwilling to leave.
Later, the locust plague was successfully repelled. The young people who had migrated away refused to return to town, leaving only the old, weak, sick, and disabled, along with patients temporarily placed here.
It was noon now, with the sun at its peak, fully bathing the valley between the two glacial mountains.
Thin wisps of cooking smoke rose from the town. Amid the ruined walls and rubble, iron pots were propped over dry, cold firewood, stewing a mixed soup of gathered wheat ears, wheat grains, and mushrooms.
A scattered group of hunched elderly people and pale-faced patients gathered outside the boiler room, smelling the faint scent of wheat in the air.
Several soldiers wearing mechs independently developed by "Entropy Ashes" patrolled around the town, occasionally clearing out a few wandering Insectoid Spawn.
Miles was one of them.
At this moment, he was boredly making his rounds.
Still, if his father had not had connections higher up, this easy life in the rear might not have fallen into his lap.
The comrades who had enlisted alongside him had basically died in the locust swarms long ago, becoming white bones in the wilderness.
"Ugh..."
Just as he wondered whether he was lamenting the tedium of life or mourning the comrades who