Jusis saw the solid determined eyes from the Veteran he’s talking to right now. “The Second Great Counter Attack will start tonight!”

Scarface and the adventurers clung to the tank as it rumbled forward, its heavy treads crushing the earth beneath them. Ivan kept his eyes sharp, scanning the terrain ahead, alert for any sign of an ambush. The adventurers perched on the tank's turret mirrored his vigilance, their eyes darting to the shadows that flanked them.

As they broke through the treeline, the dense forest gave way to a vast, open plain. The darkness stretched endlessly before them, but in the distance, Ivan caught sight of a faint, yellowish-red glow. It flickered on the horizon, perched atop a distant structure.

"Is that Manilia?" Ivan asked,

"Yes, that's it," Leonard confirmed, his voice carrying a hint of relief.

As they drew closer, the town’s wall came into view—taller, sturdier, and more fortified than Bataen.

"Alright, get ready. We're leaving the tank soon," Ivan instructed, his hands steady on the controls as he maneuvered the tank toward the town.

Leonard turned to his sister, concern etched on his face. "Are you alright now, Sister?"

"I'm fine," Leila replied, her voice stronger now, though her eyes still carried the shadow of their earlier encounter.

As they neared the outskirts of Manilia, Ivan spotted a barn just off the path. It was old, weathered, and half-hidden in the moonlight. He brought the tank to a slow halt. "Can you two check the barn? See if it’s empty. If it is, open the doors."

The siblings nodded and dismounted from the tank. They approached the barn cautiously, their footsteps muffled by the thick grass. The moonlight filtered through the cracks in the barn’s wooden planks, casting long, eerie shadows. Inside, they found only hay bales, the space deserted and silent as the grave.

"It’s empty!" Leonard called back, his voice echoing in the still night.

Ivan nodded, satisfied, and carefully steered the tank into the barn. The massive wooden doors creaked open by the adventurers, and the tank rolled in, fitting snugly within the barn's confines.

Ivan nodded in satisfaction as the massive wooden doors creaked open, allowing the tank to roll into the barn. The adventurers closed the doors behind them, the tank fitting snugly inside. After securing the tank and replenishing his ammunition, Ivan exited the barn, closing the doors quietly. He gave a nod to the adventurers. "Let's go."

The three of them moved through the night, the moonlight casting a cold, silvery glow on the rural landscape. The air was crisp, and the quiet of the countryside made their footsteps seem louder in the stillness. As they approached, the silhouette of Manilia's town walls grew clearer. The 30-foot-tall structure was lined with figures, guardsmen moving about, readying the defenses. Below, townspeople were hard at work, digging and placing stakes in the ground. Ivan felt a flicker of relief knowing that Manilia hadn't fallen yet.

"Sir! Survivors approaching! Three of them!" a guard’s voice rang out from a tower near the wall, deep and urgent.

The Captain and Jusis exchanged a glance, both sets of eyes widening with recognition. "That must be them!" Jusis exclaimed, and without a second thought, they dashed toward the gate to meet the newcomers.

As Ivan and the adventurers neared the townspeople working on the defenses, a deep, raspy voice called out, "You there!"

They turned to see two figures sprinting toward them from the gate. As they got closer, Ivan recognized Jusis, and a wave of relief washed over him, mirrored in Jusis' own expression.

"You made it safely. Where are the children?" Ivan asked, his voice tight with concern.

"They’re being treated by a healer at the chapel... but more importantly, I’m just glad you made it here!" Jusis replied, his eyes glistening with gratitude, his face softened by the weight of their shared ordeal.

Ivan’s gaze shifted to the man beside Jusis. The Captain looked to be in his sixties, his face etched with deep wrinkles. A thin, graying beard clung to his strong jawline. Despite the years that had weathered his features, his physique was still imposing—broad shoulders straining against the iron breastplate he wore. He stood tall, nearly 6'5", with muscles that had not yet withered with age. A sword hung at his waist, the hilt worn from use, yet the blade undoubtedly still sharp.

The Captain’s eyes met Ivan’s, and he took in the young man before him, assessing him from helmet to boots. For a moment, his expression was unreadable, but then his eyes opened wider, his mouth slightly agape as if on the verge of a smile. The lines of his aged face seemed to soften, a rare brightness sparking in his gaze, contrasting with the harshness of his weathered features.

“W-what’s with him?” Ivan muttered, slightly startled by the Captain’s intense gaze.

Leila stepped forward and greeted the old man, her voice respectful. “Glad to see you safe, Captain. Macthur.”

Ivan turned to her, puzzled. “You know him?”

Leila nodded. “Yes, this is Captain Macthur. He acts as the Chief of Manilia and commands its defenses. He’s also a former Major General of the Great Counter Attack.”

Macthur shook his head with a gruff laugh, his deep voice echoing in the cold night air. “Being a Major General is a thing of the past... But I never expected the two of you, Leila and Leonard, to be the adventurers who stayed behind in Bataen to face the Cerus. Still, I'm relieved to see you both here safely.”

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The knight beside Jusis spoke up, his voice rich and formal, as if addressing royalty. “Well, we owe our safe arrival to this fine gentleman here,” he said, gesturing toward Ivan.

Captain Macthur’s sharp eyes narrowed as he focused back on Ivan, and for the first time, their gazes truly met. Ivan, feeling the weight of the man’s scrutiny, straightened his posture. Then, with a slight nod, he introduced himself.

“I’m Sergeant Ivan Abrams of the Black Powder tank squadron, United Offense Force. As for the Cerus... we managed to take down one.”

Both Jusis and Captain Macthur reacted immediately. Jusis' face lit up with disbelief, his eyes widening as his fists clenched upward. "You actually did it! You’re truly a strange, powerful man!"

Captain Macthur, though visibly impressed, quickly tempered his enthusiasm. His face shifted to one of deep seriousness. Then he glanced his eyes towards the adventurer. Without even saying any words, both of the adventurers nod slowly proving that what Ivan just said is true.

“I see…does he…have you already told him?” Captain slowly asked. Same as the former, the siblings replied is only a gesture, slowly shaking their heads left and right.

Ivan, standing nearby, watched the exchange, his brows furrowed in confusion. What weren’t they telling him? Before he could voice his thoughts, then suddenly, the Captain’s posture transformed. His legs snapped together, chest thrust out, arms rigid at his sides. His right arm shot upward, hand straight and flat as he raised it to his forehead in a crisp, formal salute.

Ivan blinked in surprise, taken aback by the sudden shift.

Macthur’s voice, deep and commanding, filled the air. “I am Captain Macthur, former General of the Great Counter Attack, now Chief Captain of Manilia. I know it’s sudden, but I’m formally requesting your assistance. Lend us your strength, your knowledge, and—most of all—that powerful weapon of yours to help defend this town.”

“What?...” Ivan stuttred. Then Leila and Leonard moved besides Captain, they placed their right hand to chest then lowered their heads.

Then Captain Macthur, Leila, and Leonard simultaneously spoke. “Ivan Abrams of RedMusket, please… drive us towards the future!”

Ivan’s breath hitched, his mind scrambling to process what had just been asked of him. “Wha—?” he stuttered, eyes darting between the Captain and the adventurers.

Ivan’s chest tightened at the words, but it wasn’t until Leila raised her head, her gray eyes locking onto his, that the air left his lungs entirely. There was something in her gaze—fierce yet pleading, resolute but vulnerable—that caused his heart to race.

“Help us reach Tiger,” she said softly, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade. “He’s waiting for you.”

Beside him, Jusis was just as confused, his eyes darting between Leila and Ivan. “What are you all talking about?” he demanded, voicing the burning question that echoed in Ivan’s mind.

Leila's revelation hit Ivan like a hammer. His body tensed, heart pounding. “W-where is he?!” he growled, his voice trembling with urgency. His fists clenched so tight that his knuckles whitened. "Tell me now! I have to go to him!" His breath quickened as if each word could barely escape the storm of emotions raging inside him.

But the siblings, Leila and Leonard, only exchanged darkened glances with Captain Macthur. A shadow seemed to pass over their faces, their eyes somber, grim.

"I'm afraid it's impossible," Captain Macthur said firmly, his voice unyielding but tinged with sorrow. His gaze didn’t waver from Ivan’s, but something darker lurked behind those battle-hardened eyes. "He’s in a place far beyond our reach."

Ivan’s world spun at those words. “I don’t care!” he roared. “Tell me where he is, and I’ll go to him now!” His words were almost desperate, his body straining as if ready to launch into action.

The silence that followed was deafening, thick with unspoken truths.

Finally, Leonard stepped forward, his face etched with sorrow and wisdom, his voice low, regal, and weighted with years of history. “Ten winters have passed, sire Ivan, since last we laid eyes upon Tiger,” he said, his words heavy, like they carried the weight of centuries. “A full decade has slipped by since his departure.”

Ivan’s heart slammed in his chest. “What?! What are you talking about?! I was with him mere hours ago!” His voice cracked, disbelief clawing at his throat. His mind reeled—how could this be possible?

Captain Macthur stepped in, his eyes hard as steel, “He speaks the truth, Sgt. Ivan.”

“How in the hell do you expect me to believe that?!”

Leila’s voice cut through the confusion. “The last time we saw Tiger, he gave us a message,” she said softly, her gaze locking onto Ivan’s, her eyes reflecting the weight of her words. “He told us… that we should wait for someone. Someone who would come to lead us back to him. If he failed… then this person would carry a weapon like his. A weapon bearing the name ‘Abrams.’ He will drive us towards our future, That was his final message.”

Ivan stood frozen, the world seeming to tilt around him. His lips parted, but the words felt stuck in his throat. “That’s… that’s impossible…”

Before Ivan could process any further, a voice from the watchtower cut through the thick atmosphere. “Captain!!!” the man shouted, his voice strained with urgency. “Demon attack force detected by the 3rd scout party! Distance, 20 kilometers north!!”

Everyone turned toward the direction the scout pointed. Ivan’s eyes widened as he saw bright lights stretching across the horizon, cutting through the darkness like deadly beacons. It was a flare—much like the one he had used earlier. But it didn’t stop there. One after another, red lights flared up from various locations, each one a harbinger of incoming danger.

Captain Macthur’s voice broke the tense silence, but now it carried a weight Ivan hadn’t fully grasped before. “Sgt. Ivan Abrams,” he said gravely, stepping forward. “I know what we’ve told you sounds impossible. And we will tell you everything—everything you wish to know about Tiger.” He paused, eyes narrowing as they bore into Ivan’s. “But for now, I beg of you... help us defend this town. Help us with that weapon of yours—the Red Musket.”

In a single unified motion, Captain Macthur, Leila, and Leonard all lowered their heads, bowing before Ivan. "Please," they said in unison, voices full of solemn reverence. "Help us."

Ivan’s mind whirled in chaos. Tiger is alive—but 10 years? No, it couldn’t be. His thoughts tangled, disoriented by the absurdity of it all. This land, its twisted time, its creatures—none of it made sense. Every part of him screamed to run, to find his crew, to get answers. But the weight of their pleas, the memory of the earlier battle, and the deadly light flickering on the horizon… they all dragged him back to reality.

He is a soldier, first and foremost. And right now, this town needs him.

Ivan took a deep breath, trying to steady himself as his heart continued to race. His fist clenched tighter until his knuckles turned white, determination replacing the panic that had threatened to consume him.

“Fine," Ivan said, his voice low and gravelly, like the storm just before it breaks. "But after this… you’ll tell me everything."

Macthur’s posture relaxed just slightly, a trace of relief flickering in his sharp, battle-hardened eyes. “We will,” he said with quiet intensity. “Let’s head to the town hall. There, we can strategize and discuss our defenses.”