Shikihime walked alongside the towering figure of Goliath, attempting to bridge the gap of communication that separated them. His responses were fragmented and disjointed, suggesting a struggle with articulation rather than a lack of intelligence. It was as if the years of isolation and trauma had taken a toll on his ability to express himself coherently.

  Shikuro, walking nearby, pondered aloud whether Goliath's speech difficulties could be a result of prolonged solitude and mental strain. "Could it be that he forgot how to talk properly over the years?" he mused. "Trauma, especially coupled with isolation, can have such effects."

  Goliath looked directly at Shikuro, his eyes conveying a mixture of understanding and frustration. "Me not stupid," he stated firmly, his words simple yet charged with emotion.

  Shikuro quickly clarified, his tone gentle and understanding. "I'm not saying you are stupid. It's just that your way of speaking is unusual. I've seen similar cases with veterans who have endured extreme experiences or carried out burdensome orders."

  Shikihime, listening to their exchange, understood the implications. Such stories were not uncommon in their age, where the scars of war and duty often ran deep, affecting not just the body but the mind and soul as well.

  As they continued their journey through the jungle, the path seemed to ease, almost as if the jungle itself was aiding their passage. A flicker of hope began to ignite in Shikihime's heart, a feeling that had been absent for a long time.

  Shikuro, shifting his attention to Akalune, approached her as she walked in silent contemplation. "May I join you?" he asked softly.

  Akalune gave a silent nod, and Shikuro walked beside her. He spoke with empathy, "The world keeps moving forward. Losing a part of your body doesn't mean you've lost your purpose or your place with us. Shikihime wouldn't let you go that easily, and neither would I. You're valuable to us, Akalune, not just for what you can do but for who you are."

  Akalune's response was a whisper of despair. "I've lost my purpose."

  Shikuro looked at her, his eyes full of understanding and compassion. "No, you haven't lost your purpose. You've just lost faith in yourself. But your purpose and your worth remain. Take the time you need to heal, both physically and emotionally. And when you're ready, come back to us. Shikihime and I will be waiting for you."

  As they crested the small hill, the sight that greeted them filled their hearts with a mixture of relief and anticipation. Below them lay the beach, and just beyond it, the cave marking the location of the outpost. But what caught their attention most was the unmistakable silhouette of an Iskaldt Rike Realm ship anchored near the shore. It was a sign that they were expected, that their long and arduous journey was finally nearing its end.

  Every member of the group felt a surge of emotion at the sight. Shikihime's eyes lingered on the distant ship, a symbol of return, a beacon of hope. She whispered to herself, "Home... to Frostgard." The word 'home' resonated with a new meaning, a new destination that had become a part of her journey.

  Shikuro shared Shikihime's sentiment, his heart swelling with relief and happiness. For a brief moment, the joy made him forget the throbbing pain in his injured hand, a testament to the power of hope and the promise of safety.

  Minato, ever the pragmatist, brought a dose of reality to the moment. "Well, we should move, otherwise they will leave without us," he remarked, his voice grounding them back to the urgency of their situation.

  Yoru, with a playful jab at Minato's lack of sentimentality, chimed in, "You are always such a morale raiser and a great speechmaker. You'd make a fantastic politician." Her words, tinged with irony, brought smiles to their weary faces.

  Even Akalune, who had been through so much, managed a faint smile, a sign that the hope was contagious.

  Mathias, sensing the shift in the group's mood, asked, "Shall we continue? Time is of the essence." His words were a gentle nudge, a reminder that they were on the cusp of safety but still needed to reach it.

  As they navigated through the enveloping jungle, the conversation lightened, turning to thoughts of what each of them would do upon their return. Everyone shared a little something, a small glimpse into their personal hopes and plans. It was Shikihime's turn that brought a surprising twist to the conversation.

  "I think I will rest until I give birth..." she said, her words dropping like a stone into a still pond, causing ripples of reaction throughout the group. The most stunned was Shikuro, who immediately rushed to her side, his face a canvas of emotions, asking a flurry of questions that bordered on the comical.

  Yoru, however, was skeptical and didn't take Shikihime's declaration at face value. "This time you've taken your joke too far, Shikihime," she said with a teasing smile, prompting Shikihime to shrug nonchalantly, adding to the mystery.

  Shikuro's annoyance at the joke was evident, yet Shikihime playfully kept them guessing, adding, "But who knows. It might be the case."

  Yoru, curious, pressed further, "What would you do if you were actually pregnant?" After a moment's thought, Shikihime replied with a seriousness that contrasted her earlier jesting, "Well, I'd make you a wet nurse and Akalune a godmother." Her declaration stunned Akalune, who looked at Shikihime incredulously. Shikihime's response was earnest, devoid of any hint of jest, "Yes, I would. Akalune, you've lost the most because of me. I don't forget those dear to me, and I repay kindness and loyalty. You would be a godmother any day."

  Shikuro, joining in the conversation, asked if he could appoint a godfather. "Sure! Who would that be?" Shikihime inquired. Shikuro pondered for a moment before saying, "Erik or Bjorn. Maybe one for the first kid, and the other for the second."

  Shikihime playfully chided him, "You haven’t even managed to make one, and you're already planning for the second?" Shikuro just shrugged, a smile playing on his lips, "What can I say, I'm a greedy man."

  As they continued their journey, the conversation within the group flowed easily, lightening the mood after their arduous experiences. Bjorn's comment about making Erik the godfather, as he might inadvertently teach a girl un-ladylike skills like hunting and swordsmanship, sparked Shikihime's interest. She jumped at the idea with enthusiasm, much to Bjorn's surprise. "You would really do that for us, Bjorn?! You are the best, I vote for Bjorn!" she exclaimed, her excitement evident.

  Bjorn, taken aback by her fervor, reminded her that women in the Dynasty received military training, too. Shikihime then curiously asked Bjorn about his plans post-adventure. Bjorn, with a hint of hesitation, revealed that he had been considering asking Yoru for her hand in marriage but was waiting for a more opportune moment than their current predicament. Shikihime, astonished by this unexpected revelation, asked, "Then why did you mention it now?" Bjorn simply shrugged and replied, "You asked."

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  Yoru, who was being carried by Bjorn, blushed at this exchange, her embarrassment a rare display of femininity that had not gone unnoticed by Shikihime. She looked approvingly at Bjorn and gave him a supportive thumbs-up.

  Minato, ever the voice of reason, chimed in with a gentle reprimand, "Can you at least maintain some decorum, Shikihime? You're a princess, after all." Shikihime, however, was too caught up in the joy of the moment to care about appearances. "Whatever, I don't care. Today I've learned so much. What a great day. I don't think anything can make it worse," she declared with a carefree smile.

  The group's conversation continued in a similar vein, with everyone participating, even Akalune, who slowly seemed to be coming out of her shell. Shikihime noticed Akalune discreetly removing a pill from her mouth, a small but significant sign that she was choosing to hold onto life and hope. Observing this, Shikihime whispered to herself, reassured, "She will be fine... good."

  As the evening sky turned a warm shade of orange, signaling the end of another day, the group felt an unexpected surge of energy. Despite the exhaustion from their arduous journey, there was a palpable sense of relief and anticipation among them, knowing they were close to their destination.

  Goliath, in an attempt to lighten the mood, started singing a song. His voice was far from melodic, and the tune he sang was barely recognizable, but nobody seemed to mind. In fact, his off-key singing added a sense of camaraderie and light-heartedness to the group's final leg of the journey.

  As they neared the cave entrance, Shikihime's eyes caught sight of the familiar outline of the cave. The relief was almost tangible as they approached, and they noticed realm soldiers positioned at the entrance. One of the soldiers, recognizing their approach, quickly disappeared inside with a torchlight, while the others moved forward to greet them.

  The soldiers, with a sense of formality and respect, saluted the group. "It's good to see you again, Archduke," one of them said, addressing Shikuro with a deferential tone. The recognition and respect in the soldier's voice brought a sense of normalcy and order that had been missing for so long in their journey.

  Shikuro returned the salute, acknowledging the soldiers with a nod. His voice carried a mix of fatigue and determination as he responded, "Good job, let's go home. Go ahead, lead the way."

  As they ventured deeper into the cave, the flickering lights from the torches cast eerie shadows on the walls, creating an almost surreal atmosphere. The sound of water echoed in the background, adding to the mystique of their surroundings. The group, led by the soldiers, moved in unison, their steps echoing in the vast underground chamber.

  Shikihime, feeling a sense of relief and contentment, reached out and gently took Shikuro's hand. Their fingers intertwined, symbolizing the bond they had strengthened through their harrowing journey. Shikuro, acknowledging her gesture with a warm smile, led the way, his gaze occasionally sweeping over the group.

  "This journey has been a test of our resilience," Shikuro reflected aloud, his voice resonating in the cavernous space. "We've all lost something, but we've also gained invaluable experiences. This has been a terrible story, but one that has taught us much."

  The cave opened up into a massive room, its beauty taking their breath away. Stalagmites and stalactites jutted from the floor and ceiling, creating a natural cathedral of stone. The air was refreshingly cool, a welcome change from the stifling heat of the jungle. The tranquility of the space was almost tangible, offering a soothing respite to their weary souls.

  Shikihime, too, found herself captivated by the beauty of their surroundings. After the constant vigilance required in the jungle, she finally felt the weight of her guard lowering, allowing her to fully appreciate the moment.

  The group continued through a narrower corridor, emerging into another expansive room. There, to their surprise and delight, stood Erik, greeting them with a warm, welcoming smile. His presence was like a beacon of hope, symbolizing the end of their arduous journey and the return to familiarity and safety.

  Erik's smile was infectious, and soon everyone was smiling, their spirits lifted by the sight of a friendly, familiar face. The hardships they had endured seemed to melt away as they stepped into the room, greeted by the comforting embrace of their comrade.

  "Welcome back," Erik said, his voice filled with genuine happiness. "We've been eagerly awaiting your return."

  Interlude: Sora’s Wrath

  Sora's voice was firm, her determination unwavering as she addressed Colonel Aoi. The report in her hands was more than just paper; it was a declaration of a necessary but grim course of action. As she outlined her plan, her expression remained stoic, betraying no hint of doubt or hesitation.

  "We cannot leave any stone unturned, Colonel," Sora asserted, her gaze locked with Aoi's. "The stakes are too high, and the risk to the innocent is a burden we must bear. Our mission dictates our actions, not our conscience in this moment."

  Colonel Aoi, though visibly conflicted, understood the weight of command and the tough decisions that came with it. His salute was crisp, a sign of respect and acknowledgment of the orders given.

  "I will ensure the operation is executed with precision and efficiency, my lady," Aoi responded, his voice steady.

  Sora's next directive emphasized the strategic nature of their mission. "Preserve our best for what lies ahead," she instructed. "We must maintain our strength for the greater challenges we will face. This operation is but a prelude to the more critical tasks we must undertake."

  Colonel Aoi's question about the potential for misunderstanding was met with a level of seriousness from Sora that reflected the gravity of their situation. She was ready to shoulder the entire responsibility of their actions, a leader prepared to stand by her decisions, no matter the outcome.

  "Prepare the necessary documentation, Colonel," Sora ordered. "I will assume full responsibility for this decision. Our focus must remain on the larger picture. The safety and future of many depend on our actions now."

  As Colonel Aoi departed to carry out his orders, Sora's gaze lingered on the horizon, her thoughts undoubtedly on the difficult path they were navigating.

  That night, under a sky shrouded in darkness, Sora sat diligently at her desk, penning a letter of profound importance. In it, she shouldered full responsibility for the decisions she had made, her words resolute, accepting the potential consequences if proven wrong. The clamor of battle raged outside, but within her quarters, Sora remained undisturbed, her focus unwavering as she completed her letter.

  Upon finishing, she swiftly donned her light armor, arming herself with the weapons of war. Her steps were determined as she ascended to the deck, her presence commanding. There, she beheld the chaos of battle: the first enemy ship was succumbing to the depths, its hull breached and sinking rapidly. The second vessel, fiercely engaged, was a testament to the ferocity of the conflict.

  In a decisive moment, Sora witnessed the enemy's preparation to launch oiled fire arrows. Reacting with lethal precision, she hurled her dagger, disrupting their efforts and turning their weapon against them. The enemy ship was soon engulfed in flames, a conflagration that spelled its doom. Sora's knowledge of naval warfare was evident; she knew all too well the catastrophic impact of fire on a ship.

  Amidst the fiery chaos, Colonel Aoi, her trusted subordinate, called for a volley of arrows. Their aim was true, hastening the enemy ship's inevitable destruction. The water around became a desperate escape route for the burning sailors, but even in the water, they found no respite. The sharpshooters among Sora's crew were relentless, picking off their targets with chilling efficiency.

  As the battle reached its conclusion, Colonel Aoi approached Sora with a report of prisoners taken. His question hung in the air, laden with the weight of the lives at stake. Without hesitation, Sora's response was as chilling as the sea breeze: "No survivors." Her command was clear, the implication unmistakable. Those who had surrendered, now captives, were led to the deck's edge and methodically dispatched into the watery abyss.

  With the battle won, Sora issued her next command. "Prepare three boats, we end this now," she declared, her tone firm, brooking no argument. "The rest of you, see to the repairs. We leave these waters as soon as I return. Every moment here is a perilous gamble." She then stepped onto a boat, her silhouette a portrait of determination against the backdrop of the night sea.

  Colonel Aoi, ever the dutiful soldier, saluted sharply before turning to orchestrate the flurry of activity on the ship. His orders rang out, a symphony of urgency, ensuring the ship's readiness for their swift departure. The night air was filled with the sounds of a crew working against time, repairing and preparing for what lay ahead in the unknown waters.