The Dacrea II District is an area of particular scientific and technological development among the Dacrea Great Empire, and the name of Broad-Mamon, the former Demon King, is given as the person who contributed to its development.
With the whole city mechanized, the Dacrea II District is exactly the expression Broad's Box Garden.
"What is this..."
The thoughts of those who saw the tragedy of the city, also known as Broad's boxyard, leaked orally were a word of it. Especially if we tried to make those who saw the streets known as Broad's Boxyard. The Dacrea II District was so different now that it wasn't as shocking.
I had heard stories about the whole city being devastated following a path of decline since Broad-Mamon, the demon king, disappeared. But even if I had listened to that story, the current situation in the city is not very acceptable.
Black smoke can get into the sky from all over the city, frequent explosions. Though it is the screams that are not heard, it is the voices that are raised to human suffering that reach the ears intermittently.
There was no shadow at all there when it was called Broad's Box Garden. The skyscrapers are all collapsed and destroyed, burning in flames.
The streets are changing so rapidly that no understanding of how such streets can ever change.
"I didn't know it was getting so intense..."
I know there's a battle going on in this city right now. But the battle they know does not transform the city into such a situation. Not many Dedemonized King adventurers have come here for the first time to realize the seriousness of what they are trying to do.
I guess the branch heads have finally begun to understand what it means to try to change the country too.
Some have a blue-eyed look, but a group of revolutionary armies won't stop traveling to their scheduled rendezvous point. The scorching odor that reaches the nasal cavity as we approach the center of the city and the vibration of the explosion that resonates with the body make us realize that the battle is still going on.
Not many of us are prepared to be sent to that hellish state of war ourselves in a few moments.
Until I got here, I had myself watching lightly in my mind that even when it came to fighting, I would have a one-on-one magic fight. But what they're doing right now is war, not the kind of mission they're always on. That situation, where power and power collide directly from the front, is also the first experience for the magicians of Dacrea.
A group unloading at the direction of the branch manager when they arrive at a large tent temporarily located near the city centre. At the same time he rushes off into the tent as the medication is removed from the load immediately unloaded by the health guard who came out of the tent.
That figure is a move like a puller or a stowaway, but you can't be blamed given what's going on inside the tent.
The tent doesn't bear a sign that this is what it is, but if you see the injured people being carried in uninterrupted even after arrival, you can immediately see that it is a medical tent. The adventurers returning from the front line, without exception, were bleeding heavily, from which it was easy to understand how intense the battle was on the front line.
"We're on the front line now, too. Go to your comrades' quarters as fast as you can!
Those whose orders reach their ears and tighten their bodies to the front line. But those who have no idea of the woman who gave the order immediately bow down their breasts.
It was the branches who arrived in Dacrea II a short while ago who now had orders to deploy. Perhaps the woman who has now raised her voice is the branch manager of the branch there.
It is only a matter of time before they are put on the front line, although they have put their hearts down to not being on the front line yet.
If the battle is rallied by then, some seem to unconsciously wish, for example, that the war situation is getting worse and worse. And if you think a new reinforcement has been sent out, more than a few injured people will be brought in from the front line.
Perhaps some of them are unable to move on the front line, but there's not enough room left to help them out either. A hiatus followed by an explosion tells of the intensification of the war situation.
The front line from the rear is red-stained hell.
Will we survive in this hell? Are we in a significant situation now in the first place? Many wounded are being brought in, but is the Demon King Army side sending out more wounded than they are? Is there an end to this battle in the first place?
The demon king adventurers who are ordered to wait in the rear ask themselves more or less in their hearts. But none of them know the answer to their inquiry. There has been no history of a massive battle for war in this world, not only in Dacrea, but also in Leiria, for the last hundred years.
In other words, no one knows how the war will come to an end. In Dacrya, over the years, the Demon King system has been laid down. When it comes to fighting, it is aimed at the Demon King's neck. No matter how massive a battle there was, it would only be a skirmish compared to the battle they are now seeing.
Maybe the battle they're seeing is the first war they can put in Dacrya. For the first time, they are witnessing a battle that will be engraved in history.
If you say that there is an end to that battle involving one autonomous community, Dacrea II, then the demon king adventurers may have also waved their swords for their ideals. But the endless and invisible battle violently rocked the ideals they held, inquiring into their breasts.
Is our portrayal of an ideal worth establishing with so much sacrifice? Would it not have been such a tragedy if we had patiently worshipped the current system?
The sight of hell in front of those who had been proud to engage in activities that they were revolutionary armies was like asking what they believed in once now.
Fortunately, the fact that there is not a single civilian victim soothes their guilt, but it does not change that they are depriving civilians of their daily routine by their actions. It is an act of depriving them of their homeland if they are bad. Guilt of that tightens their breasts.
By the time the suspicion of one's ideals and the guilt of destroying the home of others envelop one's chest, the desire to escape the battle begins to rebel in their heads.
If anyone speaks up, I want to get out of this place by endorsing that voice myself. The humans of the other branches that are sent to the front one after the other, even while they are frustrated by such thoughts.
Please, please, somebody raise your voice. I think strongly in my heart, but what reaches their ears is the voice of the wounded who endure the pain and the voices of the branch managers who order their outing to the front line. It is also true that there are thoughts that it is not blasphemy against them to make fleeing remarks beside those who desperately fight.
Many on the spot wanted to scream that they wanted to escape now, but in the end none of them could speak up as one.
"We're on the move too! Squeeze that power to the end for your ideals!
Those who had decided to be sent to the front before speaking up moved their heartless feet to the front, desperately killing their hearts.