A Wish to Grab Happiness

"Sounds terrible. Is it a Volvato magician or an elf curse to ask the Heritage?"

Richard frowns back at the words of his deputy, Neymar, as he sneaks his old bones in his grey armor. I looked over to the battlefield as its eyes distorted its shape.

At the end of his sight, as Naimar said, it looks terrible. The front line was almost antagonistic, even though this one said that bent but trained soldiers, crest soldiers, were only amateurs. It is within the assumption that the left-right wing forward is lagging behind, but inadvertently closes its doors with regard to the centre.

That and this, that great sorcery is the factor. Trying to suddenly cause a massive whirlwind, or drop turbulence into the battlefield, is way out of standard. If I could show you something like that up close, it would be natural for the soldiers' feet to snap.

In my interaction with Rugis, I knew that there seemed to be people dealing with sorcery in the crest religion. So, although I had expected that the demons might confuse me and cause the soldiers to collapse to some extent, this is more than I expected.

Regardless of the extent to which you pay the bow and arrow, I don't remember hearing of anyone using magic that rocks the battlefield on a massive scale that far. Or are those people walking around there in the morning, Volvato, the landlord of sorcery, just because they don't know? With such an imagination floating behind his brain, Richard laughed trying to distort his lips.

I don't want to talk about it. If that were possible, the Garrist kingdom would have already been destroyed in the Volvato morning. Because magic alone cannot outnumber pure national power and troop numbers, the Volvato morning still fits the males of the East.

Then again, that great sorcery depended on the immense power of the individual in question. Such a person, many and two, perhaps one. Richard's dry toenails were powered.

"Don't talk too much about soldiers, Naimar. A soldier's ugliness is a general's ugliness - oops, it fits. In turn, let the soldiers in the center retreat. I don't mind if I don't, but don't let me run away with my butt turned."

That great sorcery, no longer let go a few times, Richard narrows his eyes. Maybe once or twice, or maybe I can't let it go anymore.

No matter how threatening, what people deal with. Then it's not too much to fear. If you attack him while successfully replacing soldiers, even the avant-garde that is being bitten will be able to strike back.

But I guess it's sad. It's too harsh to ask boulders for recruits to operate that far. As we retire, replacing some soldiers and continuing to fight is a close operation to a dream story for recruits. Therefore, there are two means that can be taken, such as moving forward or retreating.

If you move a broken soldier forward, albeit slightly, you could be swallowed up by the enemy in earnest. It is not uncommon for all armies to collapse from some of the unraveling.

Then it's much better to let them collapse just like this one thought.

"But I'm bad, too, you know, like a great thing for a Rugis bastard. No, no, no."

Even in the past, I didn't let my men and people lose their lives, and then I get victory, that's what I was proud of. That's what kills soldiers now. I'm here to see the heights. You're in a good position. Richard sarcastically leaked the word and, before riding the horse, had the liquor included in his lips.

You'll have to drain your throat from this, you won't mind if I moisten your throat for a little while at the end.

"Battalion Captain… Will the enemy come"

Naimar, who had left the horse's reins earlier, was more concerned than just anxiously driven to leak the word. Neymar's teeth are not overlapping well. but chisels, the sound of teeth slipping was even going to be heard by Richard.

Richard responded lightly to Neymar.

She, Neymar-Gloria, had a hard time being too serious about that sexual root, Richard thinks. I fear failure and take things too seriously. Indeed, that is true when it comes to local aristocracy. I see. It would be as if it were not suitable for politics. Too firm.

But according to its solidity, she also had stickiness. Perseverance that does not break easily when encountering foreign objects, and even if broken, does not lose possession. Richard thinks if you mix your experience with that material, you might achieve remarkable growth as a commander. A soldier is a strong man, and only then can he love a commander who is not upset. A man named Neymar-Gloria is well equipped with his qualities.

After that, how much can you learn? That's all. Well, she's unhappy, too, because that teacher role is as nasty as she is. Richard smiles somewhere soaked and falls back on the horse.

"The enemy is bound to come. Maybe one or two of them on the front line, you know, around the Rugis bastard."

Even though the front line collapsed after being stirred up by some sorcery, the number on this side is more than double the number of crests. A soldier with only a few differences can gain spiritual stability. Even if you don't know who your enemies are, the psychology that you still have allies behind you inspires your heart.

Even so, if the soldier retreats from the next to the next in a light foothold, how unnatural is it? The left and right flanks will remain intolerable, and will be unusual to pull back not only in the center.

Will it be well carried on the battlefield? I'm sure that godchild will think. That kind of sensibility should be sharp about him backwards.

Richard says, showing his teeth.

"Still, I can't stop, I can't stop. Listen to this barbaric voice. Look at that dense mass of soldiers."

The crest teachings are inferior in number, but fear above all that they will destroy each other. The fact that soldiers are scattered and, as a result, many enemy soldiers kill them all is ridiculous. That's normal thinking. That's why they laid dense formations.

Consolidate the soldier as much as possible and bump into each other on top of it. More than the number of advantages are in the Catholic Church, it will all collapse where it has been consolidated, but I can buy some time. At least it doesn't immediately collapse. In that earned time, a prominent avant-garde unit pokes at the enemy formation. That would be the place to think about it. It is, in a sense, a reasonable tactic.

But there are also natural disadvantages to that tactic.

The more dense they become, the more sight the soldier blocks, his ears are crushed by barbaric voices, and he cannot do anything other than move forward at times. Besides, if the enemy's avant-garde is retreating, it's even worse.

Perhaps some of the troops that stood out on the front line should be the guy from Rugis. So, if you realize the thoughts of this side, can you let the soldiers leave?

There's no way I can.

Behind you are soldiers on your side who are moving forward. In the meantime, there is no way that the retreat order will arrive. If you stop poorly, your allies will crush you. Even if you know you're being lured, you're no longer enemies of retreating.

The situation is different from that of the Catholic Church, which was lightly dressed and made to assume some retreat from the outset.

"Look, Neymar. Even if you squeeze the battlefield with your hands, let your enemies think you're acting on their own will, and at the end of the day, let them move and show you exactly what they think, that's all. If we can do that, it's enough."

I gave him the look that Richard had never given me before, I said. Naymar unexpectedly stares back into his superior's face, and breathes. I remember seeing this look somewhere, but I couldn't remember it now.

Soldiers in the middle of the Archdiocesan army continue to retreat slowly, slowly, and sometimes with collapse. As if fascinated by its appearance, the crest soldiers repeatedly stormed.

The barbaric voice rings, the footsteps of the soldiers shake the hollow. Nobody stopped it, and it couldn't be stopped. The sun, which should have been at the top of the sky, tilts itself slightly.