After the scattered forces regrouped, the army outside the city had swelled to more than seventy thousand soldiers. Alongside the elite strength of the Survey Corps—led by Lock and Levi as their twin spears—they began an unrelenting sweep through every street still infested with Titans.
The battle lasted for three long days.
Yet, the results spoke for themselves. The Titans within the city were eradicated. Massive boulders, dragged by teams of exhausted soldiers and horses, were moved toward the breach in Wall Maria. What remained was to guard against any new wave of Titans attempting to push through from the wilderness beyond the wall.
With Lock and Levi leading the elite squads, and Captain Sanmao returning from Shiganshina to reinforce them, the defense around the breach became impenetrable. Even the Pure Titans that lingered outside could do nothing but wander.
When the final gap was sealed shut, the expedition that had stretched across months of blood and sacrifice finally reached its end.
The next task was the systematic cleanup of any remaining Titans within Wall Maria. There was no longer a need for volunteers or conscripts; the Survey Corps alone could handle what was left.
"Finally… It's over."
Standing atop the wall, Petra Rall stretched her tired limbs, her silhouette framed against the rising sun that glowed at the horizon. The warmth painted her face in gold, a striking contrast to the exhaustion in her eyes. For months, she had fought without pause, and only now could she let herself breathe.
Stepping up beside her, Lock followed her gaze toward the dawn. "Cherish this peace while you can," he said quietly. "It won't last long. The end of one battle only means another begins. The expedition's over, but things are coming that none of us can avoid."
Petra turned her head, a playful glint breaking through her fatigue. "You know, Lock—you sound incredibly depressing when you try to be profound."
Lock didn't react. Instead, his expression hardened slightly. "Where's Ymir?"
Petra sighed. "Probably with Christa. She's been hovering around that girl ever since we brought her in." Her tone turned faintly jealous. "Seems she's found someone new to dote on."
Lock's eyes narrowed slightly. "Christa's not just anyone. Her identity is… complicated."
Petra gave him a curious look but didn't press. Lock didn't elaborate further either. He exhaled softly and said, "Get some rest. We march home tomorrow. The reconstruction and the remaining Titans aren't our concern."
"That's the best news I've heard in months," Petra murmured. "Maybe I'll finally get a night's sleep that isn't under the stars."
Her fatigue was obvious. Dark circles shadowed her eyes, the marks of countless sleepless nights. For a soldier like her—who cared about her appearance as much as her blade—it was a small but painful price of war.
Just as Lock said, the reclamation of Wall Maria was complete. The following morning, after assigning repair units to oversee the city walls and reconstruction, Lock and the Survey Corps began their return journey to the capital.
The temporary volunteer divisions—those hastily assembled from across the Walls—were now redundant. They remained behind to assist with rebuilding efforts; their duties shifted from fighting Titans to restoring the city's broken infrastructure.
The road home was calm. With the Titans scattered and no major threats remaining, Lock allowed himself a rare moment of ease. As the convoy rolled forward, he looked toward the distant heart of the Walls—the royal capital—and thought quietly:
"I wonder how far Grisha has gotten."
His achievements in this campaign were monumental. Commanding independent forces and standing side by side with Erwin Smith, Lock had become one of the central figures in the recapture of Wall Maria. With Rod Reiss's silent approval, his promotion was inevitable. The only question was—how far would the king's trust extend?
"I wonder," he mused inwardly, "what expression Rod will make when he learns his illegitimate daughter is alive—and under my protection."
Now a commander of his own unit, Lock's authority stretched far beyond the Survey Corps' official hierarchy. Since his dealings with Rod Reiss began, the troops under his command had effectively become an independent force—answerable to no one but himself.
Much like the private military group once led by Kenny Ackerman, Lock's unit operated under royal sanction yet beyond royal control.
Rod's hands-off attitude was clear. He sought to preserve his vision of peace within the Walls—a Dusk Paradise, stagnant but stable. Were it not for that, he would never have allowed men like Lock or Kenny to rise unchecked.
When the expedition began, Lock had commanded only a hundred soldiers—a test force assembled from the Corps' ranks. Resources had been scarce, and their numbers had been pitiful compared to the larger military divisions.
But that had changed. The success of the recapture had elevated Lock's reputation. Even Erwin, though cautious, now acknowledged his growing autonomy. Between them, an unspoken understanding had formed—each would watch the other, but neither would interfere.
That meant expansion was inevitable. The survivors of Lock's original team would form the core of a new division, while dismissed or reserve soldiers could be reinstated. Fresh recruits would follow.
For the first time, Lock stood on the threshold of true influence—on the verge of entering the political and military elite within the Walls. And he knew that from within that circle, he could begin shaping the future he envisioned.
He needed allies—people with capability, ambition, and enough restraint not to threaten his position. Stability could only come through shared purpose and carefully measured power.
His thoughts drifted to Darius Zackly, the current Commander-in-Chief of the three military branches. A man of integrity and strange artistic eccentricities, Zackly's ideals were lofty, and his pragmatism unmatched. Such a man could prove invaluable—someone to be won over, not fought.
Others in the upper ranks remained unknown to Lock, mere silhouettes behind bureaucratic curtains. Their loyalties and motives would have to be revealed through personal contact and careful testing.
With such thoughts circling in his mind, Lock's gaze softened as the convoy crested a hill. Ahead, sunlight spilled over the rooftops of the Ehrmich District—a familiar sight at the edge of Wall Rose.
The long road home had finally come to an end.
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