As the clattering of boots and the clattering of horses' hooves echoed together, a single word rang out.

"Captain Richard, they still won't leave.

　The voice of his second-in-command, Neymar, called out to him, causing Richard to turn his head, squinting in annoyance. But he quickly turned his head back to the front.

　Neymar's expression darkened at the battalion commander's actions, and he turned his head to look behind him. He looks not at the troops following close behind him, but far behind them. The tail end.

　There was a crowd of people, clearly not the kind of knights or soldiers sent by the High Holy Church. All sorts of people, male and female, young and old, as if it didn't matter, were swaying and walking along the street.

They're volunteers, let them do as they please.

　Richard told him, his horse's jaw wagging lightly. Neymar couldn't help but feel the corner of his head harden and grow heavy at the words.

　I'm not going to let you do whatever you want.

　She, Neymar-Gloria's lips rippled unconsciously. Her keen eyes narrowed even more and pierced the captain's back.

　The word "volunteer" sounds good. Surely, they are now buoyed by the sense of mission and religious zeal that they carry in their hearts. They may think of themselves as ambassadors of justice.

　But as time goes by, and they get hungry, and their will wanes, they will quickly become nothing more than a mob with weapons.

　And rightly so. Peasants and poor people who volunteer to be volunteers are far from the word "discipline. Neymar understands that they have no sense of reason and are more like animals.

　The Gloria family, where Neymar was born and raised, is not a prominent family that holds a government position in the capital, but is just a provincial lord. The Gloria family is not a prominent family that holds a government position in the capital.

　He is uneducated, lacks character, lies when he opens his mouth, and plays the weak man. Once they get a good shot, they get carried away and grow up. That's who they are. They are like beasts that sometimes try to set fire to the houses of the nobility.

　There is no way to trust them if they carry weapons and call themselves "volunteer soldiers. Eventually, they will turn their weapons against the surrounding villages, and become wild dogs that will only disturb the peace.

　And we're supposed to let them do what they want. What are you saying?

　Neymar's hair was blowing in the wind, but he kept looking at Richard's back, wondering. His lips were itching.

"What's the matter, Lieutenant? If you're more worried about the idiots behind you than the guys holding spears in front of you, you're not cut out for the battlefield.

　Richard's raspy voice sounded somewhat amused, with a hint of mockery towards Neymar.

　Neymar opened his lips, raising his eyebrows in particular. Apparently, she is not one to be distracted in the presence of superiors and superiors. The tone of her voice was not feeble, but somehow even stronger.

I don't think you can go into battle without a good back. I think you're not careful enough, Captain.

　Neymar did not like the old general in the first place. I've heard that he had some support, but I don't like the fact that I'm being placed under a man of unknown origin, even if he is a lowly nobleman, and I don't agree with it.

　Old General Richard. The way he behaves, he doesn't seem to be a man of noble birth, and his words are coarse. Neymar couldn't help but wonder how such a man could be appointed as a battalion commander. Does he even know the words "tactics" and "strategy"?

"Hey, hey, you look like hell, Lieutenant. You look like you've just seen your parents.

　Before I knew it, Richard had turned around and was stroking his white goatee. The toothy grin was not a sign of decency.

　Neymar turned his head away from Richard, his gaze growing even more intense.

　Of course he understood that his attitude was not appropriate for a superior, and that it was not civilized.

　But for the life of him, Neymar could not bring himself to show respect to the old general in front of him.

It's because I'm not afraid.

　This is because I'm not afraid of him." At the sudden sound of this voice, Neymar couldn't help but let a raw reply slip from his lips. Richard was already looking forward. The expression on his face was indiscernible. But he could hear that his voice was very low and cold.

"It's not pretty, you know. Justice, God. That's a slave to justice. Who's afraid of a slave?

　Neymar's shoulders bounced unconsciously. Neymar's shoulders jumped unconsciously, and he turned around quickly to make sure that the soldiers hadn't heard what he'd just said. The soldiers just stared at him curiously.

　The words Richard had just muttered were dangerous words. Words that could be taken as an insult to the one and only God.

　It would be fine for a secular aristocrat like Neymar. But the soldiers are undoubtedly those who are going into battle with their faith as their bread and butter. If they were to hear what you just said... If they were to hear what you just said, you can be sure that nothing good would come of it.

I'm sure you're not the only one." "...... Battalion Chief, you might want to watch your mouth a bit.

　I'm not sure if you've heard of this, but I'm sure you've heard of it.

I don't think I said anything funny. I don't think I said anything funny, but if you're my second-in-command, you'd better make sure you don't become a slave to anything.

　As he said this, Richard did not look back or say another word.

　Neymar didn't like the way he said it and wanted to say something back, but he didn't like the way the old general was playing him. So I just bit my teeth slightly and rode on.

　I'm not sure if I'll be able to cut through the heraldry led by witches and swords wielded by evildoers under such a man.