"--That's why I told you!

　The second-in-command, Neymar, barked at the messenger who had been hurriedly brought to Richard's tent. I'm not sure what to make of it, but I'm sure it's worth it.

　Unexpectedly, the soldier who had brought the message stood there with a look of horror on his face. It was as if he felt as if he were being accused.

　--The volunteers of the Great Patriarchal Army are looting the surrounding villages for the cause.

　That, in a nutshell, is all that was reported. This is what Neymar feared most, and even foresaw. Neymar clicked his tongue in his mouth in abhorrence.

　It was obvious. There is no such thing as a volunteer soldier, no great will, no sense of religious duty. They were just a bunch of people who took up spears to relieve their daily suppressed resentment and escape their painful daily life.

　They may call themselves volunteer soldiers, but they are just like animals. It was obvious to them that when they were hungry, they would wield their spears to threaten and plunder the people. And yet, this general Richard...

　A look of both rage and contempt appeared in Neymar's eyes. It was a look of unmistakable disbelief. Catching his gaze, Richard said a few words to his messenger and sent him back.

　Then, looking Neymar squarely in the eye, he said. He looked at Neymar squarely and said, "Neymar, your deputy, you have a thousand questions.

The old man's voice echoed strangely in the tent, "First Officer Neymar, I have already made preparations for the thousand chiefs. We'll leave you here with the bare minimum, and take everything else with you.

　It's just a training exercise," he added as he dipped his tongue in the wine and touched the china.

　Neymar's lips were about to fire up again at the seeming dismissiveness. In the meantime, Neymar's eyelashes fluttered.

　I'm getting him ready. What the hell is that?

　Neymar's momentum was momentarily cut short by his captain's cryptic words. Not seeing this, Richard said slowly, as if he were making a point to his second-in-command.

Don't try to crush it with just one unit. Just use all the troops, and teach the new recruits what the battlefield is all about. You don't have a lot of practical experience either, so do what you want as a refresher.

　As soon as he heard those words, he felt a cold hand crawl down his spine. From outside the tent, a bell was ringing to announce that preparations for the battle were complete.

　Strange. Obviously, it's too early.

　Even though they were in formation, all the troops except those prepared for defense should have taken a long break. It would have taken a reasonable amount of time for them to prepare multiple thousand men. After all, the news that the volunteers were looting arrived at this very moment.

　So how could the troops be ready so soon? A bad feeling clawed its way into Neymar's heart.

　Neymar's eyes widened, he forced his throat open, and he spoke.

Battalion Chief Richard. You understand that the volunteers are going to loot, so you prepare your men?

　Neymar did not know what he should ask. Neymar didn't know what to ask, but the words just escaped his lips.

　Richard put the china on the table and answered the question simply.

It's obvious. What else is there to it? Just good training.

　At the commander's words, Neymar's cerebral cortex went numb and white. His eyelids trembled as if in a spasm.

　This commander, in other words, understands everything about volunteer soldiers attacking villages. He said he would allow it and use it to train the recruits.

　How is that possible?

　Neymar's thoughts are still racing and he can't put his words together. But she still felt obligated to say something, so she let her voice trail off.

I will lose the trust of the ...... people.

　Neymar's voice was trembling, the opposite of the sturdy strength of his normal voice. And Richard had no hesitation in answering that question as well.

Don't worry. I've told you several times that the surrounding villages have been infiltrated by heraldic troops claiming to be volunteers. And there is no resemblance between our attire and the attire of the volunteer soldiers. I don't think they'll think we're friends.

　The old general's tone was casual, as if he was just taking things for granted. He seemed to be asking Neymar if there was something wrong with him.

　Richard added, in a hushed voice, that he knew he was only getting in the way by taking them into battle.

　Neymar bites his lip hard. His canine teeth sank into the flesh, almost making it bleed.

　I know what I'm doing. There's no way you're going to get any results by bringing in a bunch of rampaging volunteers to the battlefield. In fact, if they are frightened and run away, it may even affect their morale. Neymar agrees that you have to separate the two at some point.

　But there is a way to do that. In this way, in a way that hurts the people.

　Just as Neymar was about to spit out his passionate words, Richard smashed him over the nose.

"Look, Neymar. This is a profit-taking approach. If you're going to do war work, you'd better have a good relationship with the surrounding villages, of course, there are exceptions.

　As he listened to Richard's words, Neymar's eyes widened and he looked up. Neymar couldn't help but notice the expression on his face now.



If you separate the volunteers from the start, you're bound to get a lot of unwanted backlash. It's important to use them well.

　In this way, we can gain favor from the villages, train the new recruits, and dispose of the volunteers. I think it's a good idea," the old general said, choking on his drink. Besides, the damage will be much less than if we lose the war without training.

　Neymar wanted to say something out loud. He wanted to throw the emotions that were bouncing around in his chest into the commander in front of him.

　But he couldn't find the words to do so. Tears are welling up in his eyes at his own inadequacy. Neymar doesn't like anything Richard has to say. He wants to rebel and throw his hands away. But he doesn't have the knowledge or experience to do so.

　So it was all Neymar could do to keep his lips from quivering and say a few words.

"Captain Richard.

　What?" Richard replied crudely. He didn't even look at Neymar, saying that he had already said what he needed to say. That's okay, Neymar said, his voice strained.

I despise you. But I will obey ...... orders.

　That was all Neymar could say.

　With all his heart, he could not obey Richard. So I despise him. But I don't have the power to make it right. So I obey.

　I'm so miserable. How powerless I am. I can't even put into words what I think is right. Neymar turns his back on his commander and leaves the tent, feeling the urge to strangle him. The liquid glistening in his eyes and the expression on his face was filled with emotion.

　Richard's eyes narrowed slightly at the sight of his back, and he let out a breath. His skull was no longer filled with volunteer soldiers. He was thinking about the letter he had to send now.

　He was thinking about the letter he must now send to his former students in the autonomous city of Philos and in the army of the heraldry.