Two years later...
After becoming soldiers, the recruits proudly adorned their new uniforms. Their fatigue was evident, etched on their faces as they returned home for a short break.
In a corner of their bustling surroundings, a small group of soldiers veered from their path, seizing the chance to visit Bertha's village.
Most were led to believe that Bertha had been injured during a mission and was subsequently transferred to the police department in her hometown.
The people from the village couldn't help but cast respectful gazes upon these soldiers in their tailored uniforms.
"Bertha, someone is looking for you." It was an elderly woman, her eyes wide with surprise and curiosity when she saw the soldiers at the front door.
Bertha, holding an axe firmly in her hands, had been engrossed in cutting wood near her modest home, "Who?"
