"Oh, I'm free. Have you not seen the rebels yet?"

　a punitive force going down a highway All in all, the number is about 4,000. 　
　In addition, from behind the punitive force, there were transport troops loading goods into horse-drawn carts and about 2,000 guards to protect the transport troops.
　In the midst of all this, Bratta, who is in charge of the general of this expedition, muttered in a troublesome voice.
　He muttered a disgusted expression as he sat on a military horse and looked around him.

"For the most part, I'm the commander in chief. It's more natural for me to go forward and fight, so you're the commander-in-chief here, not me. Unlike me, I can judge things calmly."

　Bratta, telling him so, is looking at the man on horseback like himself.
　They wore simple leather armour and cloak, but even for leather armour, they were not worn by ordinary adventurers and soldiers, but were shaped to be called partial armour.
　This was a measure for the lack of physical strength of a person wearing leather armor.

"It can't be helped. As you can see, I'm not fit to fight on the front. And those who fight at the front will surely be dissatisfied if someone like me becomes the commander in chief. How dare a man without a shred of bravery take command of themselves! I wouldn't say it directly because I'm under the direct control of Prince Kabazid, but I'm still showing my attitude. And that moment could give you a fatal opportunity when you fight against the rebels."

　The man, Sobble, slaps his tongue in disfavor.
　I know. That there is such a spirit.
　Still, it's not interesting that Soble, who is also your partner and a friend you can count on, is taken lightly.
　though he seldom speaks of his friend.

(He's still bad at hiding his own mind.)

　Soble, watching Bratta do that, smiles a little, contrary to her inner feelings.
　He's a blunt person, but it's clear that he's compatible with me because we've worked together so far.
　In fact, Soble thought that the opposite personality might be the reason why he was able to get along without a fight.

"Now that you mention it, Rodos, you didn't come after all." I think he wanted to come."

　Suddenly the sovereign changes the subject.
　When he hears the story, Bratta nods again.

"He wanted to come, but Perfeil didn't allow him. There is no chance of winning against crimson with his current ability."

　Bratta recalls Rodos talking about the possibility of crimson.
　Rodos said he wanted to leave right now, but refused to allow Perfiel, who was in charge of the training, because he was still immature.

"Training? ... I think someone doesn't like that kind of thing."

　Blatta looks around her to change her story, perhaps feeling a subtle dislike to Sobble's appearance.
　The punitive force marching along the highway is conspicuous, no matter what.
　That's natural, since it's as large as 6,000 with a supply force in it's.
　Those working in the fields along the road naturally looked at the form of such a punitive force.
　I've been watching a runaway punitive force that should have been described as a runaway run, rather than a runaway runaway runaway runaway runaway runaway runaway runaway runaway. Therefore, it is only natural that this punitive force should be looked at with concern.
　If the punitive force continues to lose, it is natural that the rebels will not stop marching. If that happens, there is a good chance that this neighborhood will naturally become a battlefield.
　To be honest, most farmers living in this area don't care whether the punitive force wins or the rebels win.
　Of course, there are some who support a particular person, but as a farmer, it doesn't matter whether this place is a battlefield.
　In that sense, if the punitive force wins, it will not become a battlefield, so there may be more people who passively support the punitive force.
　...however, considering the last battle, it is honestly said that he would hesitate to side with the punitive force.

"Are you all right?" and I hope we will lose again, and that we will not have a fight here."
"That's true. The last runaway was terrible, and given that..."
"I don't like it. I can't believe it's going to be a battlefield."
"But it's not the spring season or the seeding season, or it's not the harvest season. If we had to fight in the fields in the summer... I think we were lucky that the harvest was over."
"Well, if you think about it... if the civil war drags on like this and it is carried over to next spring, it will be the same after all."
"But if you think it might be over by spring..."
"Why would there be a civil war?" If possible, I want you to fight outside the country."
"Because it happens in the country, it's called civil war."

　Farmers working on cultivating the soil and scattering leaf mold in fields where harvesting along the highway is over, say quietly to each other.
　You may not have heard such words, but your gaze is still as eloquent as your words.
　The soldiers of the expeditionary force, who understand how they are viewed by the farmers around them, are frustrated by their gaze.
　Nevertheless, it would be largely the Kabazid's men who wouldn't hit the farmers.
　The fact that they belong to the faction of the First Prince of the Vestian Empire is the pride of the nobles who participate in the expeditionary force, and they do not want to imitate their pride, and if they do so, there is no doubt that severe punishment awaits them.
　Still, anything that is not funny is uninteresting, and Bratta claps his tongue on top of a military horse.

"Well, the last battle was for Prince Schles to get rid of his uselessness on the premise that he would lose." As we have achieved our end in the end, it is safe to say that Prince Schles is victorious."

　Bratta called out to the Sobre next door, but he returned with a difficult look on his face.

"Huh? What's wrong?"
"...no. I think it's fair to say that Prince Schles' aim in the last battle has been half-finished."
"Midnight?"
"Oh, we have achieved our goal in the sense of confirming the strength of the rebels. However, in the sense of the useless punishment you mentioned, it would be considered a failure when many of the nobles were taken prisoner. Moreover, Prince Schles has been unable to move extensively in negotiations for the prisoner's ransom. Prince Schles, too, really wanted to monopolize this expeditionary force in the second prince's faction. But..."

　Soble's eyes glanced at the cavalry unit, which was the rear of the marching expeditionary force.
　Most of them were sent by Schles among the expeditionary forces, which consisted of the first prince's faction.
　Naturally, Soble, who was in charge of the formation of this troop, intended to organize everything in the first prince's faction. However, Amale, who was also a deputy to Schles, contacted him and asked him to incorporate the troops of the second prince's faction... to be exact, the troops under the direct control of Schles.
　Naturally, Soble tried to refuse to join the punitive force because of the damage, but Amare must have read the development. I was talking to Kabazid before bringing my story to Sobble.
　Soble doesn't know what their lord thought of accepting troops from the Second Prince's faction.
　I questioned it and asked, but the only answer that came back was a meaningful smile.
　In any case, as long as it was an order from the lord, it was impossible to resist, and thus there was only one unit of the punitive force of the second prince's faction.

"At any rate, Prince Schles has been unable to use the power of his faction's nobles in negotiations for ransom. Furthermore, even the cavalry under the direct control of the first punitive force as a military superintendent was completely destroyed, leaving one person behind. Even for one of them, it's almost half dead, and I don't think it's a victory. It's too much to say that it's a pain-sharing."
"...that's it? But you've succeeded in your main objective of reconnaissance, haven't you? I think you've accomplished your minimum objective?"Sobble silently shakes his head to Bratta, who asks as he tilts his head.

"No, I don't think so. Indeed, some of the last battles have revealed the strength of the rebels. However, it is only a part of our military strength. Above all, we haven't been able to confirm whether there are crimson that we can't help but be wary of."
"...he,"
"Oh, we've sent a few scouts to the rebels, but we haven't heard of the discovery of crimson yet. On the contrary, some people have lost touch."

　The words make Bratta breathe loudly, as if he had forgotten to be on a horse.
　Soldiers who, as adventurers, play the role of bandits are very expensive to train. In other words, that's how expensive the soldiers are.
　They are not as prominent as knights and cavalry in battle, and they are only entrusted with behind-the-scenes work.
　Few soldiers specializing in reconnaissance want to take it for granted, and they have to raise their salaries to maintain their quality.
　But information plays a very important role in battle, sometimes even life.
　Bratta also joined forces with Sobre and was shocked to hear that the reconnaissance personnel had lost contact with him.

"Moreover, there are many excellent people who have lost contact. Perhaps I have seen something in the rebel army that I should not see..."
"Is that crimson?"
"Not all of them, and certainly not." But that makes sense."
"...other than crimson, what's the possibility of a secret weapon over there? Originally, Theoreum is good at using magic items in combat. If you think about that, I think that's more likely?"
"That's a possibility," To be honest, however, I fear fighting crimson rather than secret weapons. Considering the worst imagination, I can't help but... Now, after all, I've got the soldiers there to watch from afar so as not to overdo it."

　You must have been depressed by talking. Sobble looks up into the sky.
　There are bright sun and broom-swept clouds. Feeling as if his troubles were being said to be quite small, Soble sighs reproachfully.

"Not at all... I suppose my troubles are small to the sky."

　No wonder the sky will tell you what it is, even if I mutter so.
　Bratta, however, did not know what to say to such a sovereign, and instead turned to the carriage nearby.
　The carriage is not for carrying supplies, but for the nobles of the First Prince's faction.
　Of course, unlike the previous expeditionary force, the men on board are highly capable aristocrats trusted by a very small number of kabazids.
　As long as they participate in the punitive force, they are not like the family head, but rather the second and third sons, but they still have sufficient ability.
　He is full of motivation because he has been promised to build a new family as a nobleman if he succeeds in the subjugation of the rebel forces.
　As such nobles brought their subordinates to Japan, of course there were many capable men.

(If you lead such an excellent man as these, and you lose... you won't be able to meet Prince Kabazid.)

　As Bratta gazes at the carriage and thinks so, she somehow turns to the autumn sky that Sobble is looking at, and concentrates on the battle that will take place in a few days.





　The punitive force was camped out on the night when the bright moonlight fell to the ground.
　Up until a few hours ago, it was like a light banquet, having dinner, drinking alcohol for the purpose of nourishing energy, but it had already calmed down, and all I could hear was the sound of insects comforting the long autumn night.
　Staying along the road amuses the ears of soldiers onlookers.
　Most of the rest of us were already asleep, and the soldiers who had been given unprofitable jobs in many ways: post-banquet watch, lamented their misfortunes, but distracted their boredom with the sound of insects.
　However, if you focus your attention on the sound of insects, you will soon feel sleepy and have trouble resisting them.
　Walk all day, plenty of food and drink a few hours in advance. Nevertheless, it is very difficult to resist the strongest enemy of drowsiness if you hear the sound of insects like lullaby in the night watch.
　Also, the idea that this place is within their sphere of influence within a day of the imperial capital may be one of the factors that strengthens sleep.
　As the watchmen fought a lonely battle against drowsiness, Bratta was looking at the map in the tent with his sovereign.
　It is a map of the detailed topography to the Earl of Obrissin, lent a sovereign from Kabazid.
　Therefore, it was necessary to deal with it carefully, and even at a strategy meeting with the commanders of the punitive force until a short time ago, the discussion was carried out without direct contact.

"Considering the speed of this march, we shall not have a fight against the rebels the day after tomorrow."
"...I heard it took about five days last time?"
"Because the nobles were going their own way." I guess that's partly because of that."

　Sobble's words make Bratta unconsciously convinced.
　Since the aristocrats were proud of themselves, the speed of their luxurious march must have been close to that of a sight‐seeing mountain.
　Yes, it was just when I thought about it.

"Fire!"

　Such a voice echoed through his position, and at the same time he noticed the outside of the tent turning red.