When Jeanne arrived at the quarter where the Sarkaz had settled, she never anticipated they would greet her with such a rapturous welcome. The sheer scale of their enthusiasm made it seem as though they were ready to hoist her onto a ceremonial sedan chair and carry her through the gates!
Beholding the scene, she was left entirely bewildered. They were treating her as though they wanted to erect a monument in her honor.
Amidst the roaring crowd, the confused maiden was ushered into the village path. Mudrock came out to greet her, a warm smile gracing her features; it was glaringly obvious that Jeanne's return brought immense joy to these fierce warriors.
Jeanne could distinctly feel that since her journey home, her reputation among the Sarkaz people had risen from simple respect to absolute adoration, bordering on genuine devotion. She suspected that if she suddenly asked them to join a religious order right now, they would...
Well, they would probably think about it very carefully before giving her an answer.
After all, adopting the Laterano faith would be considered a direct betrayal of their ancestral traditions! It would definitely require some serious internal debate and community discussion before they could agree to such a conversion.
"Even though the old general warned me everyone would be enthusiastic, this is a bit overwhelming! I feel less like a traveler returning from Kazdel and more like someone who just saved the entire world," Jeanne remarked, letting out a sigh of relief once the surrounding crowd finally dispersed. Sitting opposite Mudrock, she shook her head; she had dealt with these mercenaries countless times, yet she had never seen them display such sheer exuberance.
Mudrock's quarters had undergone a significant shift as well. The most noticeable change was that the room no longer resembled a mercenary's den; instead of rows of deadly weaponry, the space was adorned with all manner of farming implements!
The iron-willed warrior had genuinely fallen in love with the quiet life of a tiller. Jeanne even spotted several thick volumes regarding agricultural techniques resting on the table; Mudrock was clearly studying the craft with absolute dedication!
"Is this welcome not entirely natural? You practically rescued our homeland from its doom!" Mudrock poured a fresh cup of water for both Jeanne and Fafnir, her eyes shimmering with genuine curiosity as she locked her gaze onto the youngster. "Even though many of us came to despise that land, it does not mean it holds no place within our hearts."
She was profoundly fascinated by where Jeanne had managed to find this child. Discovering a youngster who shared such a flawless resemblance to Talulah felt like an impossibility, a one-in-a-million occurrence.
She couldn't help but wonder—if a miniature version of the Draco leader existed, was there a chance she might cross paths with a childhood version of herself?
Remembering very little of her own youth, Mudrock studied the well-behaved child, harboring a quiet thought in her heart.
Truth be told, she wouldn't mind raising such a sweet and quiet youngster herself! The child was simply too endearing; anyone would be delighted to have such a companion by their side.
However, remembering how the stubborn Talulah had ended up with such a calm duplicate, Mudrock quickly dismissed the thought of finding her own miniature counterpart, suddenly worried that a younger version of herself might turn out to be entirely tedious to handle.
"Ah, that reminds me. With all this excitement, I nearly forgot the actual reason for my visit! Here, this is the map you entrusted to me before. Even though its practical value might be quite small now, it remains a wonderful keepsake."
Jeanne retrieved the old parchment she had previously loaned to the Doctor's group. Light, faint markings were still visible across the surface, left behind by the Doctor's careful planning during the campaign.
In truth, the map was now purely a collector's item. Given the sweeping changes within Kazdel's borders, the layout of forces and strongholds detailed on the sheet had undoubtedly become entirely obsolete.
"This very parchment provided immense aid to Babel during the struggle," Jeanne replied, handing the map with a gentle shake of her head and a soft chuckle. "In a manner of speaking, even while staying here in the snowfields, you still contributed directly to the dawn breaking over Kazdel."
She assumed Jeanne was merely offering these words as a kind comfort. She knew the reality of the situation; a map like this could be bought for a couple of gold bars anywhere in Kazdel depending on the circumstances, so her own contribution couldn't have been nearly as grand as Jeanne suggested.
"However, now that peace has finally returned to Kazdel, do none of your people harbor a desire to return and see the changes?" Jeanne inquired, looking at Mudrock with genuine curiosity.
This wasn't an attempt to pry or test their loyalty; she was simply curious. Now that their homeland was shifting toward a brighter era, wouldn't these wandering souls wish to glimpse it with their own eyes?
Unlike Patriot, who had been away from his birthplace for decades until the yearning had completely faded, these mercenaries had left far more recently. And even the old general kept a fiercely watchful eye on every bit of news coming out of Kazdel.
"A fair number of them do harbor that dream. No matter the hardships, that land remains our birthplace. Our old homes and original villages are still rooted there, so how could the desire truly vanish?"
Mudrock offered no deception; there was zero reason to conceal the truth. Who in this world wouldn't want to visit their homeland? Denying the feeling entirely would simply sound completely artificial.
"But the hour is not yet right, and we have no designs to scatter and rush back immediately. Once the grand tasks of Reunion are fully accomplished, we will likely request a brief leave to journey back and behold the transformation."
Mudrock glanced toward the distant horizon. While the prospect of returning to a peaceful life in Kazdel was undeniably alluring, their hearts urged them to stay.
They had once been a band of desperate mercenaries driven into a corner, yet they had been welcomed here and allowed to build a fresh hearth. To simply pack up and abandon this new home to start over elsewhere was something many were entirely reluctant to do.
"The choice rests entirely with your people. Talulah was worried that raising the matter directly might cause unnecessary anxiety among the ranks, so she spoke with me last night, asking me to pass along her thoughts. She will never interfere with anyone's desire to stay or leave; they only need to give a word."
Jeanne waved her hand casually. The topic had arisen during a relaxed conversation with the Draco leader the previous evening, and she had agreed to sound out the mercenaries' thoughts.
Why had Jeanne been chosen for the task? Naturally, it was because her current reputation among the Sarkaz was incredibly high. Coming from her, the inquiry wouldn't trigger any defensive thoughts or cause the warriors to read too deeply into the question.
Mudrock didn't offer an immediate refusal. She sat in silence for a brief interval before responding with a trace of reluctance: "I shall discuss the matter with the bands. Whoever wishes to return home will give you their names."
In truth, Mudrock had zero desire to leave this sanctuary, but her unit undoubtedly contained Sarkaz who yearned for their birthplace. Hearing Jeanne's assurance would likely prompt those individuals to begin sketching out their departure.
Very few among them were entirely devoid of family or lingering attachments in Kazdel. Previously, the shadow of Theresis had kept them barred from their old doorsteps, and the chaotic state of the nation meant they feared drawing vengeance upon their families by the military extremists.
Now that the old regime had fallen, those hidden longings were naturally rising to the surface. They had simply felt too sheepish to voice these thoughts to Mudrock or Talulah, choosing instead to whisper about their homeland in private corners.
Mudrock had overheard those murmurs, but she hadn't paid them much heed, simply because she was entirely accustomed to her warriors indulging in such nostalgic talk.
Seeing Mudrock's reaction, Jeanne knew a few departures were inevitable. After exchanging a few polite pleasantries, she took her leave, allowing the Sarkaz leader the quiet space needed to council her people.
The moment Jeanne departed, Mudrock gathered her captains for a thorough discussion, relaying the message exactly as it had been given. The destiny of each warrior would be decided by their own choice.
Three days later, a small group of Sarkaz formally approached Talulah to offer their farewells. The number was quite small—barely a dozen individuals in total.
The remaining warriors had resolved to stay within the settlement for reasons of their own, and Talulah naturally granted the departing group her blessing.
She had initially intended to deploy an escort to guide them safely out of the harsh snowfields, but the stubborn mercenaries firmly declined, insisting they were entirely capable of trekking back to Kazdel on their own strength.
In the end, this group—who had spent nearly a year fighting alongside Reunion and tilling the soil—departed carrying nothing but a modest ration of traveling bread.
Watching their figures fade into the snowy horizon, Talulah fell into a deep, meditative silence. For several days following their departure, Jeanne couldn't help but notice that the leader's demeanor seemed a bit unusual.