Reincarnated with a Military System in Another World

Chapter 229: Leaving Eldoria



Chapter 229: Leaving Eldoria



The faint hum of engines broke the morning silence as the convoy approached the outskirts of Eldoria. A column of M939 military trucks rumbled down the charred path leading toward the ruined city, their presence heralded by the distinct crunch of gravel beneath heavy tires.

Marcus was the first to spot them, standing at one of the catacomb's main entrances. His keen eyes narrowed as he surveyed the line of trucks slowing to a halt. He pressed his comm unit.

"Commander, the convoy's here," Marcus reported.

"Understood," Vincent's voice came through. "Have the men secure the area. I'll get the survivors ready."

Inside the catacombs, the survivors stirred as news of the convoy spread. There was a palpable mix of relief and apprehension-relief at the promise of safety, and apprehension at the journey ahead.

Vincent stepped into the central chamber, where Elinalese was seated among her people. She rose immediately, her composure calm despite the weight of her leadership.

"It's time," Vincent said, his tone firm yet reassuring. "The convoy is here. Gather everyone and prepare to move."

Elinalese nodded, turning to the gathered survivors. "Everyone, this is it. Stay close to one another, and follow the soldiers' instructions. We're leaving this place for somewhere safe-a place where we can rebuild."

Luminova joined her, her emerald eyes scanning the group. "I'll guide the last group out. Let's keep it organized."n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

With practiced precision, Marcus and his men began escorting the survivors to the surface. Vincent remained at the rear, ensuring no one was left behind. As they emerged from the catacombs, the first rays of sunlight illuminated the convoy, and for a moment, the survivors paused, squinting against the brightness.

The soldiers accompanying the convoy had set up a temporary staging area near the trucks. Tables laden with supplies had been arranged, offering breakfast rations to the survivors. The scent of warm oatmeal and fresh bread wafted through the air, a stark contrast to the damp and musty odor of the catacombs.

One of the convoy officers approached Vincent, saluting sharply. "Commander Stryder, convoy is ready. We've brought enough food and water for everyone, as well as medical supplies."

"Good," Vincent replied, scanning the area. "Make sure the food is distributed evenly, and get a medic to check on the most vulnerable."

As the survivors lined up for breakfast, the atmosphere began to shift. The tension and exhaustion on their faces softened as they sipped from steaming mugs of coffee and nibbled on warm bread. The soldiers moved among them, offering gentle reassurances and assisting those who needed help.

Elinalese moved among her people, pausing to speak with individuals, her presence a steadying force. Luminova joined her, carrying a tray of rations and handing them to the older survivors who struggled to stand.

Vincent stood back for a moment, observing the scene. The convoy's presence, the simple act of sharing a meal-it was a small glimpse of normalcy, a promise of better days to come.

After breakfast, the survivors were carefully loaded into the M939 trucks, their belongings stowed securely. The convoy had been meticulously planned, with each truck outfitted for maximum comfort and safety.

Marcus and his team climbed into the lead truck, while Vincent and Elinalese took positions in one of the middle vehicles. Luminova joined a group of survivors in another, her calming presence a source of reassurance.

The convoy rumbled to life, the engines roaring as the trucks began their journey. Vincent sat near the truck's rear, his gaze fixed on the receding ruins of Eldoria. Elinalese sat beside him, her hands clasped tightly in her lap.

"It's hard to leave," she admitted quietly. "But this... this is the right thing to do." Vincent glanced at her, his expression softening. "You're not abandoning Eldoria. You're ensuring its survival. As long as its people live, so does the kingdom."

Elinalese nodded, her resolve strengthening. "We'll return one day. Stronger. United. And we'll reclaim what was taken from us."

The convoy moved steadily through the countryside, the scorched fields gradually giving way to the untouched beauty of the surrounding landscape. Survivors leaned out of the trucks' canvas-covered sides, marveling at the sight of greenery after weeks of ruin.

Soldiers remained vigilant, their eyes scanning the horizon for any potential threats. While the Demon Lord had decimated Eldoria, there was always the chance of stragglers or unforeseen dangers.

In the lead truck,

Marcus radioed back to Vincent. "Commander, all clear up ahead. The road's holding steady, no signs of obstacles or hostiles."

"Understood," Vincent replied, his voice calm but firm. He leaned slightly forward, glancing toward the truck's front as if to confirm Marcus's report himself. His gaze then shifted to Elinalese, who was watching the survivors in the adjacent trucks through a small gap in the

canvas cover.

The convoy's path took them through a stretch of forest, the sunlight filtering through the canopy in golden beams. For the first time

, the survivors began to feel a semblance of peace. Children, who had been silent in fear, started to whisper excitedly about the trees and flowers they hadn't seen in so long. An elderly woman seated near the edge of the truck murmured a quiet prayer, her lips moving in thanks.

Luminova, riding in one of the rear trucks, shared a moment of quiet conversation with some of the survivors. Her presence was magnetic, and despite the exhaustion etched on her face, she wore a faint smile that reassured those around her.

"Vincent," Elinalese said softly, breaking the silence between them. "Do you really think Perm will be ready for them? For us?"

"Of course, it's mine after all. Whatever I say, they follow."

"I see..."

The convoy emerged from the forest, the towering walls of Perm's stronghold visible in the distance. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, hope became tangible-a fortress promising sanctuary and the possibility of rebuilding what had been lost.

Vincent picked up his comms. "Marcus, inform the convoy: final approach to Perm. Let's bring them to their temporary new home."


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