A Wish to Grab Happiness

The Archdiocesan Army, commander, leaks the voice of Deputy Neymar within the tent. Though the voice was trying to remain calm, it still contained something of a rush somewhere.

"Battalion captain, a Philos city soldier stationed in front of the enemy has been reported on the verge of collapse. It seems that you will soon be engaged with our army."

I was worried about the pale report, but Neymar found that the edge of my lips was trembling somewhere. Whatever the suppression of night theft or minor rebellion, this is the first battlefield that seems to be a battlefield. Even if I think it's breaking my heart, my body really remembers the stings.

Pity. I usually tell my men not to get upset and lose their cool. Neymar's brow narrows slightly.

Old General Richard nods softly when he hears Neymar's report and says:

"Faster than I thought, but well good. Get the archers ready, and the moment Philos collapses, target the idiots who will protrude"

That doesn't matter if you involve Philos soldiers somewhat, Richard says.

Naimar frowned lightly, still pulling her jaw and nodding. It was well understood here in a few days that even if I tried to argue with this old general, I would still be no match for him in my own tongue. Experience and knowledge are not enough for me.

Would you look at Neymar like that? Richard's wrinkles were engraved and his cheeks were crooked.

"Naimar. If you have any objections or skepticism, put it in your mouth. I'm smart enough to decide I didn't get in, but I'm not smart enough."

And now we have a little time, Richard said, wearing gray feet.

Neymar's lips are unintentionally frightened by words that seem to have been seen through her chest. In all honesty, there were many things that were not known by the order of this old general. The fact that you ask all of them is also something a fool without thought would do.

Neymar opens his mouth as he leaves his fingers hanging and his thoughts spinning in his head.

"... then, just one. Why did you use insider Roseau like that?

Roseau. I never even knew the family name, but that was the name of the insider the Catholic Church embraced. A man who is just thin and tongue-in-cheek, but has a face in the Philos Folklore and a talent for fans.

Besides, he's a light-hearted man, but he wasn't retarded. He was familiar with Philos' standing and would have understood that it was better to be embraced in the Catholic Church. By promising gold and some status, he easily held the title of insider. He'll listen to you everywhere, if that's what he says.

Because it is, the instructions Richard gave him were inexplicable to Neymar.

- To disprove the words of the ruler Philose-Trait and isolate her.

What a strange and puzzling instruction. Phyllos-Treit would have offered his cooperation in the Catholic Church, regardless of what this one did. If so, if Roseau could have helped her, he could have poured more Philos soldiers into the match.

When it comes to that, I don't see how that part could have caused me to raise suspicions about Philose-Trait and reduced the number of city soldiers who could be deployed in various situations. Of course, there is a possibility that Philos' city soldiers were not willing to use them, or that there was a change of policy.

Listening to Neymar's words, Richard gently leaked his voice into it or stroked his beard under his chin. He seemed to be working out the words on how to explain it.

A few moments later, when I tell him everything, it gets longer, and then Richard opens his lips.

"In the first place, the bastards of Roseau are not meant to wrap Philos around the Catholic Church. Well, that would have been nice if I could have prevented you from grasping the crest."

Richard went on to say that he would have gotten money from the crest religion anyway.

"Besides, I knew that the Philose-Trait lady would be able to decide to march, even if she bought the Civil Society rebellion. That's because he's a man of blood who can make political decisions like that. Philos' city soldiers, at least, are enough. No, it was better that way."

Neymar stiffens his lid as he slowly chews the words Richard releases. I was wondering how the words I was given would tie together.

In other words, did you use Roseau as an informant not for this meeting, but for other purposes? Even if we were to activate Roseau for that reason, we foresaw that Philos' city soldiers would be mobilized at the very least.

Neymar's eyebrows are flattered. I don't know, I had a strange discomfort. I was holding Roseau for another purpose, well. But when I listen to you, I feel like you're putting more emphasis on your purpose than your meeting with the crest religion.

"Okay, Captain. That's another purpose."

Neymar's honest question echoes in the tent. It was a word that jumped out of his lips without much attention, but it seemed to Neymar that Richard was distorting his lips for a moment. Hi, have a little fun.

"What do you think?

Naimar made her cheeks snap as she gently pulled her jaw, still hating this old man.

He said he spoke out because he could hear it, but he returns the words as if to infer this one from his place. Naymar narrowed his eyes, wondering if there was anything fundamentally wrong between Richard's human being and himself.

The purpose of isolating the ruler Philose-Treit. Simply put, is it to bind her actions? Sometimes to drag her off the throne of the ruler if you let her think.

Normally, a lord can do anything to the extent that he has been disputed by the people, which is impossible. That city called Philos is not normal. It's a city where uncivilized, uncivilized mechanisms exist. If so, is there such a way of thinking?

When he scratched to that effect and replied to Richard, he nodded aloud, saying:

"I know exactly what you mean. Then what? Yes, you're right. What I told Roseau to do, and my other purpose."

The old man's squeaky voice echoes in the tent. It was terribly cold, and Neymar had the feeling of being pressed even by ice on his neck muscle.

- By ending Philose-Trait. Anyway, it's better that his blood muscles keep sitting here.

Richard didn't tell me who made that decision. I guess that's what happens when it's not something you should put into words.

aristocratic blood muscle problems. Or the succession dispute of the housekeeper. It is common in itself, and it is not an empty story to suppress blood muscles other than heirs in order to prevent problems in the home.

Speaking of which, the information that Phyllos-Treit was an adopted son had also come into Namar's ear. So, to prevent her from getting involved in some inheritance dispute, the old general was using Roseau beside the meeting, you know?

- Is that really happening?

What can I say, this meeting is not of such low importance that it takes place in such a one-handed manner. What is being done with the words of the Pope immediately under his command. In other words, it is equal to what the Catholic God wants.

More important than that, such as blood muscles are no longer.

Naimar lowered his temper and forced himself to sink in one option that came to his mind. I was desperately pushing to death and strangling him with both hands as that floating choice tried to breathe. Don't think about it. It's not something I can conclude from what I've just thought about, and I should rather see what my superiors didn't say.

Maybe I understood something when I saw Neymar cemented his expression. Richard bears his cloak on his shoulder and stands up and says:

"Ma. Don't think about it now. The seeds were scattered. Later, you can chew up the crest guys."

Outside the tent, there was increasing noise. Perhaps the Archdiocesan army and the crest army have already begun to mingle their fangs. Neimar also closed his lips with a hardened expression.

Richard goes outside the tent with his feet squeaking.

"Naimar, take a good look. I don't feel comfortable having a few enemies, but I'll show you how to squeeze the battlefield with your hands."

I was actually going to slap him into it, but Richard's voice, which continues to do so, was rarely more serious to him. It wasn't that kind of voice that was somewhere light-hearted, like every tease.

Unexpectedly, Neymar's eyelids blink and tension crawls in his spine.

"Okay, take a good look."

That's all Richard tells him, carrying a black sword on his hips and stretching his legs to the battlefield.

The outpost played by the Philos Metropolitan Soldier marked the end. Neymar's skin felt the imminent imminence of the time when the Archdiocesan army and the crest stood fangs directly against each other.