The southern side of the kingdom of Magna, the main military force, advanced through the Fine Left Palace.
As we cross the border, we move further forward and approach the enemy forces by accident.
Front battle force is the enemy central army, two days' distance at normal marching speed.
Also from the Royal Magna Army, the East Army in the 9 to 10 o'clock direction and the West Army in the 2 o'clock direction, each of which are also about the same distance apart.
Proceed to such a position or stop the march even though the sun is still in Jomtien.
The three enemy armies, in each direction, unleashed a scourge consisting of light cavalry.
That's how you start laying down simple formations.
A number of tents are erected and surrounded by fences.
Seeing from the side, keep the formation here, waiting for the arrival of the enemy forces.
Looks like such an attitude.
But it was a pseudo.
There was no intention to wage a passive battle against the Royal Magna Army.
Yes, they are, a fierce beast, watching the opportunity to jump on prey now or now.
Grinding his nail fangs, he lurks his breath and stands still.
If so, a future in which war conditions change dramatically.
It happened not far away, it was a certainty.
One of the tents installed in the formation.
It was addressed to me for personal use and I was using it with Theodora.
A simple wooden desk set in the center of the tent.
On top of that, there's a line of less thankless meals.... I wouldn't even call it unsavory.
Whatever, it's a menu for high-ranking officers. But there is something called the limit of battlefield death.
Even so, let's call it the crystal of the cook's tearful efforts.
Yeah, that's not stingy to admit either.
However, it was not comparable to a meal at the Royal Castle.
Improving dining conditions on the battlefield.
This could be a rather urgent challenge.
If your stomach is filled, if you can get nourishment, that's not fine.
Meals are also important aspects of preferences.
That appetite is what it should be like to be a civilized man.
I can't fool around with this.
'Cause if the meal is good that day, it's something that will cheer you up somehow.
Conversely, if you eat badly, you feel depressed.
Yes, it involves the morale of soldiers.
This is even the menu for high-ranking officers. (i) A soldier's meal, it is presumptive.
... Yet no one alarms this dietary situation.
Stereotypes. Battlefield meals are terrible stuff, there is such a stereotype.
No, I might even replace it with common sense for them.
Well, sure, to some extent, you won't have a choice.
But what can't be improved just a little bit?
... what kind of military, eg militia meals out there?
Somehow I have an image of curry.
Is that the image of the Marine militia on Friday?
No, no, even the Track and Field militia, curry, which can be considered a classic for rice box cooking, will naturally hold it down.
Nice, Curry. It's easy to make, it's delicious. It's just...
No. I don't have spices to make curry.
Mmmm......, via the Latio Republic, where can I import it by sea?
And so on, half joking, half serious, I thought that was hard.
That, and this, is because of battlefield food.
Shit! Somebody, bring the cook in one platoon from the royal castle!
"... Master Shizuku, you look difficult, but, uh, anything to worry about?
"Mm-hmm. Kind of. It's not that Theodora cares."
I can't tell you. I didn't know if I was unhappy with my meal.
Even though the girl in front of me hasn't leaked a single complaint.
Oh, what can I say even if my mouth is torn?
There is such a thing as adulthood. Yeah.
Teodora's expression is not excellent, even if I tell her not to mind.
Drop the eyebrow root a little and steal a peek at this face.
From that point of view, I can see that you are referring to me.
I reach for Theodora's head, who sits face-to-face with her desk pinched.
stroke its flowing golden sand hair to comb.
Every time, you perceived the intention to delude yourself with it, Theodora makes a slightly troubled look.
Still, as I continued to stroke my head, I smiled ticklishly.
Poor looks go hand in hand and become a big picture. Um, maybe an angel?
Still, you're a really good kid. Hey, what about Theodora?
Who the hell do I look like... Tons and I can't think of anything.
I can, come on, stop stroking my hand and pull in.
"Well, shall we have lunch?"
"Yes, Master Shizuku"
Dare not, leave the bread and mouth the salty meat in vain.
If I eat bread first, I'll be tight later. This is the best solution.... maybe.
Even so, it would be for preservation, but salty in vain.
Not that I can't eat, but there's something a little tight, this.
Uncomfortably, when the bread is sliced into large bites, it is stuffed in the mouth and shaved and chewed.
Yes, with a shadow.
Wrong, but not quite the same texture as a fluffy phonetic sound.
... what is it, doesn't it feel like I have enough moisture?
(i) It's like a soldier eats, you can't eat it without fluffing it with oatmeal or something, it's not that kind of kachikachi bread.
By comparison, it's a much better substitute.
At least, it's not as harsh as yelling.
But whenever I bite, my eyebrow roots stick around.
Such an exquisite salt plum quality.
I can't take any emotions with me, but frustration accumulates.
This might make you feel better just because you can yell at the unsavory rice.
Then again, a bunch of menus that are exquisitely subtle as if they were meant to be.
What, is there something wrong with Japanese? You know what?
Anyway, I'm going to eat that kind of dish, like work from next to next.
And finally, a cup of tea after a meal.
All this, I brought in my own tea leaves, so it tastes great.
Yes, I could finally say what I could call a hobby... it should have been.
"Witch! Excuse me during the meal!
It was Elma, the commander of the Wand Squad, who came into the tent with such a voice.
"... what?
Unexpectedly a low voice.
"Ha. His Excellency the Admiral is here for you. Immediately, to command."
Seeing as my mood was not good, Elma ran out without breaking the military tone.
"............... ok"
The time taken to make a bitter decision is two seconds.
I cry, take a seat.
"Theodora is here. Slow down a bit."
"Yes, Master Shizuku"
One last such exchange with Theodora, leaving the tent.
Right behind you, starting with Elma, a few wand soldiers follow.
Still... to emergency command, huh?
I turn my head as I walk.
The reason for the call is largely predictable.
A whole day after we got in formation here. A scourge scattered across the three sides must have brought the information back.
The scouts were ordered to come and see whether the enemy would join them, or show them the movement of a minute-by-minute strike.
So either way, the enemy has already made a move.
But surprisingly, the footwork is light.
The distance between my own army and the enemy army, its other self, can take six hours, even if the scouts of the light cavalry are so forcible that they crush the horses.
That is, the enemy army began marching with the dawn.
We arrived here yesterday at daylight.
The enemy scourge that sensed it brought back the information yesterday evening, or perhaps, a little bit, at such a time that the sun had already fallen.
In other words, during the night, the three armies would have skipped the transmission, discussed the response, and shared the decision at the end of the day.
They've been a lot more diligent in a while.
No, the victory continues, and I'm motivated. Is that the place?
The fact that we are destroying the Southern Horsemen one after the other.
Are you feeling high about that victory drink?
Oh, sure, the victory booze is delicious.
If that continues, morale will also be greatly enhanced.
But you have to be careful.
If you're drunk and in a high mood, you're feeling too big.
Lack of calm is also common. Sometimes I get rid of prudence.
Now, what was the enemy's behavior, driven by the alcoholism of victory?
You'll see that when you get to Command.
Several horsemen run horses lost in the dark night.
They were a scourge unleashed by the Army of the Arlnian Marquis.
The mission is to monitor enemy positions.
If there's a big move, it's my job to reward the main army as they march.
I want to get as close as I can to observe the enemy formation.
However, with enemy cavalry patrolling the perimeter of the position for the purpose of hunting scouts, there is also a limit to the distance that can be approached.
But now it was only at night, daring closer to the position than it was during the day.
They gaze and observe enemy positions moving in the distance.
A position where the bonfire burns brilliantly and rises booooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo in the dark night.
Are you on guard even in the night raid, there are quite a few bonfires burning.
The main army is still far away and not in a position to hang night raids.
but even if you were marching nearby, in that way, it might be medium difficult to hang a night raid.
The scouts hold such sentiments.
Scouts watching the position for a while, standing still.
Most importantly, the object of surveillance does not change anything.
It's already quite late at night.
Apparently, there's still no movement tonight, yes, the scouts judge.
Eventually, when you flip that horse's head, it falls back.
No matter how much, hiding in the dark night, it was nearer than careless.
That behavior, which can never be described as safe.
Confirming that there was no movement in the enemy formation, they decided to step back to position.
The decision is reasonable.
Never, ever to blame.
It's just that their views were so different from reality.
It's been a few hours. The sun rises from the east.
More, clearer vision.
As a result, the Arlunian Repellent Force felt uncomfortable.
Therefore, aware of the danger, we approach enemy positions by the point of inadvertence, as we did before dawn.
As we approach, we can more closely see how it looks.
The discomfort shifts to surprise and impatience.
- I can do it!
A leading cavalry shouts so unexpectedly.
The enemy position had turned into a stuffed shell.
Yes, the bonfire at night was a deception.
Only a few soldiers left in the position continued to burn brilliantly to make it look like the army was still in position.
That is how he did not enlighten the army's night march.
So, the night march I hid until then. Where the hell is that going?
Cold sweat drips down the backs of the scouts.
When he returned his horse in haste, he ran down the road to the main army.