The whirlwind of magical power created by the Fyarados tore through the sky and swallowed up the arrowheads. It was as if the space itself opened its mouth and swallowed the arrow. The weapon that was meant to suck the blood out of people was turned into a mere stick and slammed into the ground.

　Apparently, he was good at it. A light exhale escaped my lips as I lowered my stiffened shoulders. It was an unmistakable breath of relief.

　I had told Kalia and Fialaat, who was standing behind me, in advance what was likely to happen. I also told them that I would need their help in the event that something actually happened. I thought that was a bit out of character for me, but... Well, sometimes it's good.

　After all, it's old Richard. There's no way he'd call up an enemy commander and not have some kind of plan. It was no longer just a mild skepticism that he might set a trap. It is a kind of trust that they will do so. Of course, I didn't know whether the ambushers would use arrowheads or swords to attack me.

　Regardless of the offer, losing the head of an enemy commander is of supreme value. If successful, the morale of the enemy army would collapse like a wave, and the loss of one commander would reduce the number of options available on the battlefield. If you are not careful, the chance of victory itself may disappear.

　By assassinating the enemy commander, he would seek victory and profit without reducing the number of soldiers. Just the way the old man likes it. The word "fair" must be an object of ridicule for him.

　And if it is for him, it is for me as well.

　A whirlwind of magic power neighs as it makes every arrow it shoots fall to the ground. I looked straight ahead at the road that led to the enemy general, Richard. I pulled hard on the reins.

"I'm sorry, Caria, but I'm leaving the ambush to you.

　That's all I said to the silver light flickering at the edge of my vision, and I spurred my horse on.

　The space between me and old Richard was only the size of a few horses. Even if the ambushers, sensing that the assassination had failed, drew their swords and slashed at me, I would not be able to reach them in time.

　And more importantly, there is no way that anyone could get past the silver flash of Kalia's sword that she had in her pocket.

　I'm not sure what to do, but I'm going to do it. I'm not sure if you'll be able to find the right one for you.

　The moment the blade was pointed at his neck, you could see that the old man had a twisted smile on his face.

　--Gee, gee...

　The purple lightning drew a line in space, and the black sword bit down on it. The steel joined together, and sparks flew as they cut each other down.

　As if the old man had expected it, the thick black sword caught the treasure sword that was swung down with great force. The body is probably already in the old age range, but the power supporting the black sword does not even show any signs of wavering. On the contrary, he seems to be saying that if we relax even a little, he will just jump off.

"Old man, you're getting old. Why don't you learn to take it easy in retirement?

　The swords engaged, separated, and struck each other several times. One match, two matches, three matches. One match, two matches, three matches, and still the black sword that swept away my slashes did not lose its momentum.

　The old man seemed to enjoy it, as if he was watching something very strange.

"Who the hell is that brat talking to? As long as there are people like you around, I'll never even think about retiring.

　And so, the fourth station.

　The first swing, which was intended to cut out the old man's heart, was deflected by a black sword that must have been placed along the path of the swing, and ended up only lightly gouging out the old man's shoulder. The red color of blood mixed with the green of the plain.

　I see, the old man is not an inhuman being whose blood does not flow at all. Then there's no way he can't be killed.

　It was a strange feeling. It was a strange feeling. It was an unfamiliar battle on horseback, the opponent was undoubtedly more skilled, and if I made a poor move, my head would surely fall off at that moment. It's as if the commanders are wielding swords on behalf of the warriors.

　And yet, my heart is strangely full. Perhaps it was the elation of matching swords with a master who had once remained insurmountable, and vying with him for authority. Or is it that something else is bubbling up from the depths of my heart?

　Strangely, really strangely, I am not in a bad mood today. Rather, there was a joy that I had never felt before.

　More pours.

　The purple lightning trails down the side of Richard's body as if it were being sucked in, and the black sword meets it as it should. The scene was the same as before. But now, after several times, there was a change. The black sword, which until just now had not wavered in the slightest, wavered slightly. My eyes blinked.

　It was not going to be easy to just push it in. But I had a definite feeling that if I could just get a few more swords in the air, I should be able to tilt this rigid defense in either direction.

　If it could be done, if it was possible. What a comfort it would be to be able to choose. But that would no longer be possible. It was possible that even this number had been calculated by old Richard.

　A voice struck me that made my earlobes and plains tremble.

"Help the battalion commander! Do not use bows!　Those with swords, wield them! Those with spears, pierce them!

　The enemy convoy was now close at hand. If I gave old Richard any more time, I would be surrounded by that entire convoy and my flesh would be gouged out.

　I let go of the swords that were still biting each other, breathing on my shoulder and wagging my lips. Instantly, there was a ripping pain in my right arm. I looked down and saw a line of lacerations. It seemed that the old man had slashed at him before he knew it. He was probably only focused on intercepting the attack to buy time, but he was still good at attacking in a nasty way.



"So that's your grandfather's girl. She's a good one.

　In the short time it took for the convoy to arrive. "That's your grandfather's girl," he says, pointing to the woman who seems to be the general leading the convoy, while removing a piece of iron from his face with his hand.

"Don't be ridiculous. She's old enough to be my granddaughter. And you're too stiff. You could be a little softer.

　The old man says this in a light tone, and cowers his shoulders as if to say, "Good grief. Then, with his black sword swinging in one hand, he said, "Your woman looks better than mine.

　He naturally raised his eyebrows and blinked his eyelids. My woman. Who the hell is that? As I twisted my eyes in confusion, I saw the old man's gaze pointing right at me.

"Lugis, we've decapitated the ambushers. There's no one left to stand. Let's retreat. Get him on his horse.

　Kalia says, blood mixing with her silver hair. The way he wiped the blood from his mouth with his hand had a certain charm to it.

　In response to Kalia's words, the old man stroked his head and said, "Give me a break.

　It takes an enormous amount of money and time to raise ambushers, especially archers. They have to be taught to think for themselves, and above all, it is not so easy to get them to draw their bows seriously.

　To be honest, unfortunately, there are not enough archers in the heraldry to provide enough strength or ambush. At best, the reinforcements from Gazaria include a few archers who can use bows. Even so, there are many difficulties in operating them as a unit. If that were possible, he could have kept them hidden as ambushers, like old Richard.

　I pulled Kalia's hand to the front of the horse and lightly held the reins. This little chat had been a pleasant time, but it seemed to be over. The sound of horseshoes was becoming deafeningly loud.

　I wondered if there would ever be a time like this again between me and old Richard. My vision blurred slightly.

"See you, old man. I don't know if I'll see you on the battlefield, but make sure you wash your neck out with some good wine.

　At my last words, Grandpa Richard broke his cheek and said. The deep wrinkles and large scars on his face distorted.

"Lugis, do your best. Don't worry, in the end I'll chop your head off in the name of justice and heroism.

Another unfitting word. "Righteous and heroic. As he replied with a wave of his lips, Kalia let the words slip out.

"Richard Permiris. I had a few questions I wanted to ask you, yes.

　It was a mutter, more to me than to the old man. The expression on his face fell, as if he were a cat with a prank in mind.

It seems that he has inherited his bad taste in women from his master.

　The old man laughed throatily at Kalia as he lifted his lips in such a manner. The old man laughed throatily with a very straightforward laugh.

　After laughing for a while, he turned away and I heard him say something.

　But the words were so small that they struck my ears slightly, and then disappeared in the wind.