"Mary!"

Seeing Mary, I couldn’t help but break into a wide smile, genuinely glad to see her.

"Come on in!"

"I heard you were looking for me quite a lot," she said, her sulky expression finally softening into a faint smile in response to my warm welcome.

"That’s right! No matter how busy or preoccupied you are, this is the opening ceremony of our company. You should at least show your face!"

"My apologies. I was dealing with some personal matters and ended up being late."

"It’s fine. The important thing is that you made it now."

"So, what’s the business item? Come to think of it, you mentioned that you’d be unveiling a new product during the opening ceremony, didn’t you?"

Mary’s eyes sparkled with interest, picking up on my earlier muttered comment.

Since I hadn’t had the chance to introduce the product to the Grand Duchess earlier, I decided to explain it to Mary first.

"Of course. The new item is…"

But just then—

"They’re coming! The Expeditionary Army is returning!"

Messengers carrying blue flags galloped through High Castle, shouting as they went.

"The Northern Frost Wall Legion and Frost Shield Battalion will arrive within three days," Mary said, her eyes lighting up with excitement upon hearing the news.

"You picked the opening date perfectly. If you’d done it any later, this ceremony would’ve been overshadowed entirely—like a birthday party no one cares about."

The news of the Frost Wall Legion and Frost Shield Expeditionary Army successfully returning after defeating the barbarians and orcs was no surprise to me.

Everyone in High Castle had already been anticipating it. News of their victory had been sent ahead by carrier hawk before the messengers arrived.

We all more or less expected their arrival around this time.

"So, the first business item will have to be delayed again, huh?"

As expected, the whole of High Castle began buzzing with activity in preparation.

The return of heroes was a big deal. Even with limited resources, they deserved a warm welcome.

And of course, I’d have to pitch in too.

***

The North was still a land scarred by the remnants of barbarian legions.

While the mutant monsters of the Abyss were somewhat managed by adventurers from both the Empire and the North, other regions weren’t as fortunate.

There were the Druid Barbarians of the Manus Mountains, who wore human skin yet behaved no differently than monsters, and the Extreme Northern Orcs, who constantly attempted invasions across the frozen seas that never thawed.

These two forces were perpetual threats to the peace of the North, continuously gnawing away at its potential for growth and development.

As such, the large-scale expeditions conducted every three years were a matter of destiny for the people of the North.

If they didn’t act, those barbarians—always breeding—would eventually dare to challenge the Great Northern Wall.

The monsters scattered throughout the North were already a significant threat. If the barbarians managed to breach the wall, it would spell pure hell.

In a way, these expeditions were like pruning.

The Northerners referred to these expeditions as the Extreme North Campaign or the Preventive Wars.

"Just a bit more! Just a little more, and we’ll reach High Castle! A grand feast awaits us there!"

Sir Theo, a knight of the Frost Shield Battalion, shouted to rally his soldiers.

But in truth, his cries were just as much for himself—to stave off the despair creeping over him.

These were the same words he had been shouting all morning—or perhaps since last night, or even the day before. His voice was already hoarse.

"You’ve all done well! Truly, you’ve all endured so much! Her Grace, the noble Grand Duchess, and our ancestors will remember your sacrifices and dedication!"

In the distance, the faint outline of High Castle came into view—a sight both distant and deeply familiar. Below it stretched the endlessly long Great Northern Wall, the Northerners’ shield against the wilds.

At the front of the line, messengers from High Castle joined the soldiers, guiding them onward.

"The blood, sweat, and tears we shed in this campaign have spared our families from shedding their own!"

Feeling a surge of strength at the sight of High Castle, Theo shouted even louder, his empty right sleeve flapping in the wind.

"Renslet! Rune Renslet!"
"Renslet! Rune Renslet!"
"Renslet! Rune Renslet!"

His cry was echoed by the soldiers, who seemed to find renewed energy, quickening their pace.

Meanwhile, the tension within Theo began to ease.

At just 18 years old, Theo was a young knight, having only been an adult in this world for two years.

In fact, he had been knighted just before departing on the campaign.

“To think I’ve survived to return—it feels like a dream.”

This had been his first Extreme North Campaign.

While he had previously defended against monsters and barbarians attacking the Great Northern Wall, this was the first time he had ventured beyond its sturdy protection into the enemy's heartland.

"The next campaign is in three years, isn’t it?"

Though this campaign had been grueling and agonizing, Theo would volunteer without hesitation when the time came again.

It was terrifying, but someone had to do it. To him, it was an honorable duty and a way to honor the blood spilled by his fallen comrades.

"But I won’t be able to join the next campaign."

He glanced down at the loose sleeve of his right arm, a bitter expression crossing his face.

He had lost his right arm during the campaign.

Even now, he sometimes found it hard to believe. If he clenched his shoulder, it felt as though his right arm would move again, gripping a sword.

"They must feel the same."

His gaze swept over the returning soldiers.

In the middle of the procession, there were wagons filled with the wounded.

Though Theo had lost an arm, his legs were intact, so he walked, helping to manage the troops.

The wagons, on the other hand, carried those who had lost their legs or sustained injuries too severe to move on their own.

"Sir Theo, you’ve worked hard."

A wounded soldier in one of the wagons caught Theo’s eye and greeted him first.

"Ah, Bill. You’ve worked hard too. Will you be returning to your hometown after the feast at High Castle?"

The man was Bill, a veteran soldier Theo had befriended during the campaign.

"I suppose I’ll have to. I can’t remain a soldier in this state. But I’m not sure if my hometown will even welcome me back. I became a soldier because they couldn’t afford to feed me. What am I supposed to do with a body like this…?"

Bill’s voice trailed off as his gaze shifted to his legs—or what remained of them.

His left leg was missing below the calf, and his right leg had been amputated above the knee.

The left had succumbed to frostbite, and the right had been lost to an infected wound from an orc’s spear.

"Be grateful you’re alive," Theo said softly, his voice tinged with melancholy.

In truth, Bill’s survival was nothing short of a miracle.

Soldiers with injuries like his rarely made it back alive, usually succumbing to blood loss, infection, or frostbite.

But somehow, this grizzled 28-year-old bachelor had beaten the odds.

He was likely the only soldier among the wounded to survive such extensive injuries.

"Yes… but honestly, sometimes I think I’d have been better off…"

"What was that?"

"No, nothing. Hahaha…"

If Theo had been whole, Bill might have cursed at him upon hearing, “Be grateful you’re alive.” Perhaps he would’ve even welcomed the execution that might follow for insubordination.

"Yes, you’re right, Sir Theo. After all, the later you meet the ancestors, the better, isn’t it? Hahaha!"

"…"

Bill forced a laugh, but Theo understood the despair he felt.

If Theo found it difficult with just one missing arm, how much worse must it be for Bill, who had lost both legs?

"Sorry."

"Sorry? What for?"

"Forget it. It’s nothing."

"I see…"

Theo knew what lay ahead for Bill.

The small rations and stipends provided by High Castle would be far from enough.

In his impoverished hometown, his family would eventually see him as a burden.

He would likely leave home to beg for survival, only to freeze or starve in the streets during winter.

"Still, you’re skilled with your hands. You’re good at carving and drawing. I still have the portrait you made of me."

"Well, that’s true…"

Perhaps Bill’s future wouldn’t be as bleak.

His talent with woodcraft and drawing might allow him to scrape by, selling his creations on the streets.

"And you, Sir Theo? What will you do?"

"…?!"

Bill’s question left Theo staring blankly at his wind-blown sleeve.

"Me? Who knows…"

For the first time, Theo realized he wasn’t in much of a position to worry about others.

"How ridiculous. Who am I to worry about someone else when I’m just as lost?"

Though he had noble blood, he was born the illegitimate son of a concubine.

While his talents had earned him the opportunity to train as a knight, that was as far as his fortunes had taken him.

"If only I hadn’t lost my right arm!"

Theo had been right-handed.

Though he could retrain himself to wield a sword with his left hand, he would never again be trusted with dangerous expeditions or critical knightly duties.

"At best, I’ll end up training soldiers in the rear. Or maybe I’ll try my hand as an adventurer."

Stuck in limbo between being a knight and a common soldier, Theo’s future seemed bleak.

"Thinking about it, I don’t even have a knack for swordsmanship. Becoming a one-armed knight is a long shot. Hahaha!"

He laughed bitterly, the smile on his face forced.

"But you’re good at talking, reading, and writing, Sir Theo. You’re even good with numbers."

"Those are skills anyone can learn with a bit of effort."

"Really?"

"Of course. If I had a real knack for it, I’d have become a bureaucrat or a merchant by now."

"Then why not give it a try?"

"Forget it. Bureaucrats and merchants need to be far better educated and skilled at calculations than I am. I’m not qualified."

Theo’s thoughts turned inward as he silently pondered his future.

"What will I do? Going back to my family will only make me a burden. And as an adventurer… Can I even survive with one arm?"

So far, all his focus had been on surviving and returning alive. But now that the tension was easing, the uncertainty of the future loomed over him like a storm cloud.

"What’s this cheerful conversation about?"

A heavy voice interrupted Theo and Bill.

"No way…!"

"?!"

Startled, both men turned to see the source of the voice.

"Commander!"
"We greet the Northern Wall, Lord Suun!"

Standing at the rear of the procession was none other than Suun, the Northern Wall himself.

Towering well over two meters, his frame was as massive as a polar bear's, rivaling the mightiest orc warlords.

Strapped to his back was a kite shield, 1.5 times larger than most, forged entirely from Northern steel. It gleamed a faint blue and radiated a chilling aura, the sheer size and weight of it enough to send a cold breeze with every step he took.

Suun silently inspected the wounded soldiers before him.

His gaze lingered on Theo, the young knight missing an arm, and Bill, who had lost both legs and faced an uncertain future.

"Sir Theo, you’ve worked hard."

After several moments of silence, Suun finally spoke, his deep voice resonating with weight.

"Y-Yes, sir!"

The recognition from such a towering figure filled Theo with deep emotion.

"And you, Senior Soldier Bill. You’ve done well. My wife greatly admired the painting of High Castle you made last time."

Suun then addressed Bill by name, surprising him as well.

"I-It’s an honor to hear that, sir!"

Bill’s face lit up with pride.

"Byoden, you’ve worked hard too. Which foot did you lose this time—left or right?"

"Haha! Just the left one, sir. And I only lost two toes to frostbite. The rest of the foot’s fine!"

And with that, Suun began his inspection in earnest.

Unlike others who might have started at the front of the line, Suun chose to stay at the rear, personally attending to the wounded.

One by one, he called out their names, ensuring no one was overlooked.