After three days of silent and peaceful riding, they finally arrived at the city's portal network that went directly to the northern part of the empire.
The cost of transporting through the portal system was expensive; however, it seemed the coachman was able to cover it without a hitch.
After a little wait, they were guided over to a large swirling portal that could easily teleport tens of people at a time.
When it reached their turn, a shimmer of blue light swallowed them, and in an instant, they arrived at the other side.
They rode another carriage for a day, and during the next day,
"We've arrived,"
The carriage rider flatly announced. These were the first and only words he had spoken throughout the entire trip; however, Baines didn't care.
He had spent years in silence. What were a few days?
What took his attention was the massive fortress before them. Its towering double doors were wide open with a steady stream of people and carriages moving in and out.
It truly was a major road network that led to the four cardinal points.
After a short word with the guards, their carriage was allowed to pass.
They had arrived at the Last Front.
One would think and expect the place to be in a serious situation of danger or see the army moving around in haste or dread; however, it was anything but.
In fact, it looked more like a thriving border town than a military front.
Markets bustled with activity. Children laughed as they played in the snow, hurling it at one another.
Women carried baskets. Soldiers lounged about, some training, some drinking, and others simply watching it all with quiet disinterest.
The only thing truly remarkable about the place, besides the named fortress, was the cold.
Ice and snow clung to everything: the rooftops, carts, uniforms, and even their carriage.
'This?' Baines couldn't understand. This is what Vole called dangerous?
He had expected tension in the air, urgent alarms, and walls under siege. Not... this.
However, he said nothing and kept a watchful eye as they moved deeper into the town and arrived at a second set of gates.
Then, it hit him instantly.
The stench.
The sharp tang of blood, metal, and smoke that clung to the wind and carried on with it.
It seemed as if the second gate blocked everything from the sight of those in the outer region.
Well, it certainly was possible with magic; however, the main point was that,
This was the true Last Front.
Ahead, he saw them:
Two colossal ice-covered mountains stretched across the horizon like slumbering giants, and nestled in between them was a dark, sprawling, fortified, imposing, and ancient castle.
Though there were other buildings here and there, this was the most eye-catching.
And an army unlike he'd ever seen filled the space. Soldiers of all levels milled about: from green 1-stars to elite 4-stars. Occasionally, a 5-star passed by, with their presence commanding respect without a word.
Eventually, the carriage stopped near a row of other carriages, and they got down.
"The recruitment building is there," the driver pointed to a structure on the left, far away from the sprawling castle at the center in the distance.
Without another word, the coachman turned and left.
Baines also wordlessly turned and approached the building from the description.
There was already a line of those entrants into the military, and he silently joined the short line.
It didn't even wait twenty minutes before a voice called out to him.
"Hey,"
Baine turned to face the person calling out to him.
He was a tall young man with brown hair parted sideways, brown eyes, and broad shoulders. He looked no older than twenty-three.
"You look my age. How are you already a Sword Master?" he asked, eyeing the blade on Baines's hip with curiosity.
The question instantly drew attention.
There was no way that anyone had noticed Baines. After all, he was the sole master on the line.
Murmurs rose among the line.
"What do you want?" Baines asked, his voice detached and his expression unreadable.
"Whoa, chill. Just making conversation here. Since we'll probably end up in the same squad, figured we should talk." The boy expressed no ill intention as he tried to continue the conversation.
However, Baines turned back to face forward, totally ignoring him.
"H-Hey—" the boy tried again, but was cut off by a voice from inside.
"Number 243."
That was Baines.
Without another glance, Baines stepped forward and disappeared into the recruitment office.
...
Inside, five officers sat behind a long desk. They all wore the official military garb of the Sun Empire, each marked with the insignia of 6 stars.
Then they all looked up to see the new person when they shifted.
A sword master? Here?
It was honestly shocking.
Most sword masters either joined noble houses, became mercenaries, or sold their skills to the highest bidder. Rarely did they enlist in the military—especially not on the frontlines, not unless they were a spy.
"I'm Jin. I was recommended by Vole Malakar," Baines said, offering a small bow, and placed the sealed letter on the table.
Skeptically, they read it.
Some raised eyebrows, and others said nothing.
'They'll accept me,' Baines concluded. He had not seen any other 5th star on the line, and since his recommendation was clear, any suspicion they would have would be void.
"Jin, is it?" the panel head—an older man with sharp eyes and white hair—seated at the center looked up.
"Why do you want to join the army?" His tone was cold, probing. It felt like one wrong word, and he could get rejected.
Yet, Baines didn't flinch.
His mindset on the empire was already good enough because of Vole, and if they thought they could just threaten him for answers, what was adding one other empire to his list?
Besides, rejecting him was their loss, not his.
Still, he replied with the truth. It was the first time since he descended: "I'm looking for some people."
Silence fell over the room.
Maybe because of the sincerity in his words or something else, but no one said a word.
What else would drive a young swordmaster to volunteer for one of the deadliest posts in the empire?
Revenge? Justice? Desperation?
It didn't matter. They had all felt that rage before.
"Very well," the older man smiled faintly before gesturing to a stone block at the center of the room.
It resembled a stool for seating, and if one looked closely, it had several deep cuts around its rough surface.
"Show us your strike."
'My strike?'
Baines stepped forward.
The room was quiet as he drew his sword, a soft shng echoed in the space, and he raised the blade.
'Cut.' He slightly envisioned the word, then he brought the blade down.
Crack.
The result was instant. The stone split in two, effortlessly.
"What was that?" one officer muttered.
"How did you do that?"
"You…"
"W-What?"
Even the head panel raised his brows slightly before regaining composure.
"What technique was that?" another officer asked, aura flaring slightly as if to test Baines's resolve.
"I just cut it," Baines replied.
"I know that—but how?" They asked again, but there was suspicion in their voice.
'Of course,' Baines sighed internally.
He had just used the Will of Absolute Cut and Destruction—a manifestation of his sheer resolve. It was meant for higher levels, certainly not for his level, but he didn't have time for slow progression.
He wanted to get revenge NOW, not later. He wanted to meet his family NOW, and not later.
He would do anything to find them. Even if it meant revealing some things that might make his life harder.
"Enough," the panel head raised a hand.
The tension died instantly.
The head panel glanced deeply at Baines. "You'll be assigned to a vanguard squad, as requested.
Due to your level and skill, you'll be provided with your private quarters, a uniform, and military technique access."
A faint smile appeared on his face.
"Welcome to the Last Front."