A Beacon of Hope at the Watchtower

“A nun aid team has arrived here, you know! They’ve been tirelessly treating the wounded. And among them, there’s one particular nun…”

“I know, I know! You mean that beautiful blonde lady, right? She’s truly an angel. I watched her save so many of our brothers who were on the verge of collapsing.”

“Indeed, her light is so gentle. If only…”

Before long, the nun aid team became the focal point of all discussions within the fortress. These warriors had endured countless days of battle in the most arduous conditions, having begun to feel as if each day was their last.

Supplies were perpetually scarce, and promised reinforcements remained mere words on paper. After weeks of relentless fighting, rumors had even begun to circulate that the kingdom had abandoned them.

Yet, everything changed with the arrival of the Volunteer Corps today. The watchtower’s soldiers learned that the kingdom had never ceased its efforts, nor had it forgotten to send aid.

While previous legions had suffered devastating casualties, this support corps had successfully breached the Legion of the Undead’s blockade, bringing vital supplies and much-needed personnel.

Thus, this day transformed into a celebration for the watchtower, a joyous respite after countless days of grueling combat.

Commander Greer was hailed as a hero by the soldiers:

“You, who have guarded this place, have prevented our recaptured border watchtower from falling. This is a tremendous contribution to both the kingdom and all of humanity.”

“Borderlanders will never abandon any comrade; we are bound by an oath, so please believe in us! Believe in the King’s heart.” Greer declared, his gaze sweeping over the assembled warriors.

“Our assembly here at the border is to fully reclaim the lands lost beyond the watchtower during this enemy offensive. This is a formidable task, yet we do not fight alone.”

“Our allies stand with us, and the very fate of humanity will be forged through our actions. Every person here is a warrior worth a hundred, and I have unwavering confidence in each of you.”

“It is imperative that we, too, hold confidence in ourselves during these trying times. Furthermore, allow me to introduce the nun aid team dispatched by the Draynes Church.”

“They will serve as a crucial force in this operation. I have full faith in these nuns’ dedication and expertise; they will undoubtedly save many lives throughout this battle.”

“Antolia, why don’t you go up and say a few words?” the Mother Superior suddenly suggested.

Anto, momentarily startled, quickly replied, “Is that truly alright? Shouldn’t the Mother Superior be the one to speak…”

“You saved more people today,” the Mother Superior whispered, “and Bishop Rhys Delvos mentioned you need such an opportunity.”

Sister Anto then slowly rose. At this banquet, attended by the majority of the soldiers, she, as the nuns’ representative, began her ascent to the main platform. All eyes were drawn to her petite yet beautiful figure.

“My goodness, she’s truly tiny.”

“Yet she’s saved so many lives. She’s practically an angel.”

“Heh, you’re absolutely right,” a veteran from the Volunteer Corps immediately chimed in, launching into full Sister Anto promotional mode. “Our Sister Anto truly is a little angel descended from the heavens!”

“Everyone… hello.” Anto stepped forward, her voice clear as she addressed the assembly.

“I, too, am a borderlander, hailing from a small village near the frontier. The watchtower has always stood as a bastion in everyone’s hearts, safeguarding the peace of humanity’s borders.”

“For as long as I can remember, I have held immense respect for all of you. The heroic deeds you have accomplished here transcend any words or historical accounts.”

“While treating some of the wounded, I overheard them say they had given up hope, believing they had been abandoned. But that is simply not true.”

“Everyone knows how truly magnificent the guardians of our border are. It is precisely because of the Border Legion and the watchtower’s steadfast presence, despite the harsh environment and brutal battles, that the cities and nations behind us enjoy peace and happiness.”

“I consider it a profound honor to stand here, fighting alongside each of you. However, I also implore you, please do not abandon the will to live.”

“For beyond these walls, countless people eagerly await your return. Here, beyond offering what aid I can, my only other recourse is prayer.”

“I pray that each of you, upon completing your mission, will return safely to your homes.”

As Anto spoke, she closed her eyes, offering a silent prayer:

“‘I hope each of you can return safely to your homes.'”

Her words, devoid of grand declarations, were imbued with a profound gentleness that stirred the hearts of all who listened.

Home. When had they stopped dreaming of it? The soldiers here had become like trees rooted in this dark forest, ceaselessly supporting themselves until they shattered into dust.

This desolate place had become their only home, with no other fate imaginable. The thought of returning, of leaving this perilous land to reunite with long-lost families, had become a dream too audacious even for their subconscious.

“‘Home…'” A soldier among the ranks muttered the word, his voice barely a whisper.

A tremor ran through his body, and the hand clutching his wine cup began to shake imperceptibly.

How many years, how much time had passed since they had even dared to contemplate returning? Was everything in their hometown truly well?

Could there truly be a land, far from the Legion of the Undead and ghouls, where they could peacefully sow fields of wheat?

“‘Home… I want… to go home!'”

Sobs rippled through the gathering. These warriors, renowned as the most courageous in the entire border region, found their vulnerable sides suddenly exposed.

It was more than mere homesickness; it was as if their parched hearts were suddenly quenched, deeply moved by the realization that someone still awaited their return.

A complex, ineffable emotion—a blend of sadness and joy—washed over them.

“So please, everyone, rally your spirits,” Sister Anto declared, lifting her head.

“We will strive for the same noble goal, and we will stand with you. The Holy Light, too, will be with each of you.”

As she spoke, a radiant glow emanated from her, shining almost as brilliantly as flames in the encroaching darkness. All eyes fixed on her figure, and somehow, everyone felt an undeniable sense of innocence and pure goodwill.

“‘Now I finally understand why you called her an angel,'” a border soldier murmured, almost foolishly.

“‘This isn’t merely an angel; this is light incarnate… My goodness, she’s absolutely dazzling!'”

“Thank you, Sister Antolia,” the watchtower commander announced, rising to his feet.

“Listen closely, every one of you! We are not merely going to complete this mission; we are all going to complete it alive!”

“Someone is waiting for us to return! When we defeat the enemy, we will march back in triumph to drink the finest wine from His Majesty the King’s cellar!”

“We will feast on the choicest meats provided by the nobles! And we will reunite with the parents and sweethearts who have waited for us for so long!”

“Every single one of you, stay alive until that glorious moment, you old lads and scoundrels! Do you understand me?”

“‘Understood!!! We will return in triumph! We will return in triumph!'”

Roars of affirmation filled the entire camp, echoing with renewed determination.