Dream Life

Tria Calendar, July 8, 2017, around 4: 00 p.m.

My brother Rodrick arrived at our inn.

My brother solidifies himself in the armaments of the northern governor's office of the Caerm Empire - blue chest armor (breast plate), shoulder rests (sparder), silver cage hands (gauntlet) on the thigh armor (cuis), etc. - and holds a silver glowing decorative angled helmet (helmet) by his side, in a knightly posture with extended spine, and reports that my father has ordered me to escort him.

"By order of His Excellency the Governor of the North, the 322nd Platoon belonging to the First Knights of the Army of the Northern Governor of the Caerm Empire, you enter under the command of Sir Lockhart and assume the task of escorting him"

He seems to be a serious brother, gives priority to his service as a knight over his greeting as a family, and reports to his father with a serious look that he will assume the role of escort.

"Nice to meet you, Lockhart Platoon Leader," my father returned with an equally serious look.

So my father finally loosens his expression and calls out to his brother, "You look good, Rod," he said. My brother also smiles in those words.

"Yes, your fathers seem to be well, above all."

Theo and Sella said, "Brother Rod!," he said, jumping out, clumping on both sides of his brother.

He was my brother who joined the Knights of the Raswell Borderline Uncle Territory seven years ago, but he returns home once last year. Theo, who admires knights in particular, admires him enough to say that he worships his brother, and his twin sister, Serra, also seems to have feelings similar to admiring his brother as a swordsman.

"Zach looks good, too," my brother said, tapping my shoulder gently, and he calls out to Liddy and the others as well.

In front of Beatrice, he bows his head, "Zach is always taking care of you," he says. (i) I had a face-to-face with the two of them because they meet at Doctus on the way home last year.

Behind his brother, Mel's brother Sim Marron refrains. He also solidified himself in the official gear of the submissive knight, standing upright immovable, but looking at his nostalgic face, loosening his expression.

My father approaches Sim and slaps him on the shoulder, "Rod's always in his care," he says.

Sim tided his face and stretched his spine, answering with a serious look, "No, I'm drawing it to Master Rod," he said.

We'll move the place to the dining room and exchange greetings with my brother's men.

In the army of the Northern Governor's Office, a platoon of twenty members is the smallest unit, composed of one squadron in five platoons and one battalion in five squadrons, making it a knighthood in five battalions. In other words, the Knights consist of two thousand and five hundred men.

The Northern Governor's Office Army will have four Knights and about 10,000 Standing Forces. This other force each lord has, but is usually engaged in city security, etc., and not a cohesive unit of combat.

By the way, he says his brother's platoon, First Knights Platoon 322, is short for Second Platoon of Third Battalion 2nd Squadron.

One platoon consists of two Orthodox knights, four squadrons, eight squadrons and five members of the army, under the platoon leader. Each role, but the Orthodox and Subordinate knights are cavalry who carry out battles on horseback, the subordinate hits the infantry, so far in brackets to say the military.

Military dependants are young people who perform chores such as caring for horses and preparing for camp, who basically do not participate in combat, but are trained in combat and, depending on their talents, may be taken up by their squire.

This platoon is all pretty young, headed by my brother. Even the Orthodox Knight, who is said to have many veterans, doesn't look so different from his nineteen-year-old brother.

Later I asked him that many had been promoted in the Cyclops crusade, and about half of them had been replaced. Still, they all treated my brother with respect.

Its brother Rodrick, but he has decided to return to the village of Rasmore on the occasion of his marriage, and finally, this escort, is to leave the Knights.

I'm better prepared for marriage, but this also seems to be going well, and besides a brief meeting, it just seems to leave the wedding on July 20th and the revelations from the next day - which are supposed to go around the major cities of the Raswell Borderline Uncle Territory.

My father and mother nodded satisfactorily, but I had to tell them that we had been raided, which changed from the gloomy atmosphere we had had had, and my father explained how it had been with a slightly grumpy look.

My brother didn't seem to have been heard about the raid, with a look of surprise and anger, but he heard that no one was injured and exhaled in relief.

"Is Sir Boyette not going to report to Welburn? If something like this happens, you should report it to Welburn immediately."

My father shook his head small and gave up and started talking with his face.

"I guess Sir Boyette wants to hide the fact that he himself is suspected. Perhaps he's going to do a detailed investigation and then report it."

It was somewhat imaginative that Boyette had not issued a decree for the report to the Raswell Border Uncle.

My father's right, I know you're going to hang up on me, but this one has a witness who says Maddock.

If Boyette was more than a baron, he would silence his father by letting the title say something, but not in a knight of the same rank. Conversely, if my father was in the top position of the Knights, he could have detained Boyette, but because he is of the same quality, neither of them can make a move.

(Still, is Boyette hitting anything? Sometimes the mastermind may erase the voyette... well, if you had control of Low Cliff, the mastermind wouldn't be easy to end in any position)

I felt suspicious for a moment, but couldn't think of the measures Boyette would strike and how the mastermind would work, and the suspicion was driven to the corner of my head.

The reunion with my brother began in a soothing atmosphere, but the fact that the raid had not been resolved also gave me a glimpse of the colour of the tension in the face of my brother's platoon.

If nothing, it would have been just a formal escort mission to accompany the safe streets from Lowcliff to Wellburn, and Borderline Uncle would have just made the pretext of escorting and trying to create an opportunity to meet his family alone. My brother's men seemed to have the same idea, and I seem confused by this rapid development.

I'll ask my brother if he knows who attacked us, but he just returned the answer that he doesn't remember being resented. Ask Sim, who also serves as his brother's squire,

"Some were opposed to your marriage to Master Rosalind. Maybe they turned their hands around."

When Sim says so, his brother says, "It's not what you say in speculation. They are now convinced," he said.

Sim bowed his head to his brother and said nothing more.

I'll ask Sim about it afterwards, but he won't tell me inside because my brother stopped me. He finally let me talk to him when he said he really needed to know for the safety of his brother and his fathers.

"I have heard that His Excellency Lord Borderline's real brother, His Highness Viscount Tysburn, and his Associate Baron Gateskel, have expressed their opposite opinions until the other day…"

As expected, the relatives of the Raswell Border Uncle seemed to disagree, but they said they had ceased to disagree for about ten days.

The Viscounts also realized that the will of the Borderline Uncle was stiff and it was impossible to get here and stop, and rumors were circulating that they had finally given up.

(Suspicious to say, but I can't think of any reason why Viscount Tiesburn would attack the Lockhart family. Sure, if my father was killed and my mothers kidnapped, I'd have to postpone my marriage, but do I need to do that? If Tiesburn there seems to be another reason...)

The fact that a mastermind-like figure has finally come to mind makes me retighten my mind.

(Uncle Borderline's brother would have some power. Well, they say the territory is pretty east, so you won't suddenly be attacking me by force, but you seem to feel better enough to get into enemy territory...)

Summarizing our story in writing, my brother dispatched one knight and one squire each to Wellburn as a preaching order, along with the dawn of the next morning.

I also stand in my dormant position that night just in case, but nothing happened and we had a safe July 9th morning.

July 9th at 8am.

Finished breakfast. We head south on the northern streets - streets from Netherton, the main city of central Caerm Empire, to northern Low Cliff. Many merchants lined the south gate of the city of Lowcliff to cross the Lowcliff Bridge, which hangs on the Fatas River.

We were in that line too, waiting for the order. The merchants back and forth were protected by the Knights. Is it strange that we are lined up in large numbers, looking at the flirtatious and us.

The Low Cliff defense team that hits the bridge security has also noticed us and told us to let it pass as a priority, but my father said, "It's not a hurry trip. You can stay like this," he says, lowering the soldier.

In about thirty minutes we arrived at the south gate and crossed the bridge, but it was a spectacular view inside.

The huge linear bridge, which extends two kilometres in length, is paved so nicely that it is unlikely to be cobbled, and you can barely hear the sound of a gatan characteristic of a carriage.

Of course, there are no rubber tires, so it sounds like a ragged wheel, but I can't help but be surprised at the excellence of the Empire's civil engineering skills.

The surveillance tower along the way has archers monitoring the sky and river surface. He says he's on guard to protect people passing on the bridge from demons on the Fatas River.

Across the long bridge, the walls and huge castle gates in the shape of Co rose. In the unlikely event that they take Low Cliff, it would seem to serve as a fortress to stop enemy invasion on this occasion.

Through the castle gate, the meadow area was spreading. Unlike Aurelia Street, where the forest continues, the word prairie, although with gentle ups and downs, was a deserving view.

And a straight road continues south to pierce that prairie. Unlike the main streets of the north, Aurelia Street and Ars Street in the east, the northern street, which is also a military road, the road width was wide and paved with earthly attribute magic, just like the bridge.

Cattle and horses graze the meadows that extend on both sides of the road, dotted with small settlements. Although the settlement has a wooden fence that seems to be exorcised, there are no reclining walls, and the fact alone provides a glimpse of the good security around here.

The grass on the grazing land is no more than a metre high and it is unlikely that ambushes will lurk. Because it is a plain with even fewer ups and downs, it had good prospects and little chance of being ambushed.

Still, he did not fail to be vigilant and proceeded cautiously on the northern streets.

Nothing suspicious happened that day, including at night, and nothing particularly noteworthy happened besides the slight collapse of the weather the following day and the rendezvous with an increased platoon from Welburn along the way.

July 10th at 2pm.

The giant walls of Welburn, the largest city in the northern part of the Caerm Empire, have entered our eyes.

In front of the castle gate, queues have already begun to form, and the walls of three kilometres surround the city, looking at the castle fortified city like the Caerm Empire, slowly advancing.

Welburn is a large city with a population of 30,000 in urban areas alone and more than 100,000 people when combined with surrounding villages and towns supplying food, etc.

To the south of Welburn flows the river Welle, the name of the city, and the city is surrounded by a rich land of meadows and forests.

On farmland stretching along the northern streets, the ears of summer wheat shake quietly in the breeze blowing across. The peasants have stopped working hands and wiped their sweats over and over again in the summer heat, but they never stopped smiling on their faces. Its pastoral landscape seems to tell the true story of this place being peaceful.

About thirty minutes after we get to the rear of the queue, we circle the north gate of Welburn. He was led by his brother and headed towards the castle of his lord, Raswell Borderline Uncle.

Wellburn's downtown North Street, which runs north and south, became a boulevard, with many shops connecting. The boulevard is full of merchants and residents, and the multiplication of voices heard from all sides gives the impression of a vibrant city.

One of the residents noticed his brother Rodrick and said, "Sir Lockhart!," he called and began to wave loudly.

People on the boulevard also notice that voice, stop shopping, and smile and wave in the same way. Over time, people also began to show their faces through the windows on the second and third floors of the building, still looking like parades.

Starting with my father, we round our eyes to the sight, but my brother was used to it or he was responding to it with a smile from the horse.

From the centre of the city, somewhat more than east, the walls and bright flags appear again. It was the castle of the Raswell Borderline Uncle, where the Northern Governor's Office is located.

When you say castle, it's not a battle castle fort, it's something close to a palace with plenty of white stone and lots of conical roofs.

When my brother applies to open the gate in front of the main gate on the west side of the castle, it is heavily made but the white painted wooden gate slowly opens.

Inside, there are lush green lawns and beautiful gardens with colorful flowers.

We rode down simultaneously, pulled the horse and went inside the castle.