The clash between the heraldic army and the Great Sacred Church army was truly a battle of fangs against fangs. It was no different from a beast snarling for its own survival.

　Especially on the front lines, multiple spears entwined with flesh and blood stained the ground. It was almost impossible to tell which was the blood of a comrade in arms and which was the eyeball of a hated enemy soldier.

　If you bite your teeth, the blood comes out easily. His mouth was filled with the taste of iron. You can't even rinse your mouth out with water.

　So wonderful. This is the battlefield. This is what a battlefield is. A primitive struggle of willing heads in the heat, crushing each other's heads.

　Men die, women are tortured, children are crushed. It is utterly barbaric, nauseating, and insane.

　And yet, human beings just can't stay away from the battlefield. Even those who talk about peace know that there is a battlefield ahead.

　This is probably because the battlefield is sometimes very seductive. After all, here you don't have to think about anything at all. There is no happiness, no unhappiness, no hatred, no love here. There is only equal death.

　That's why we all try to look away from the battlefield, but we still have to keep looking.

　He flexed his arms and wielded his shiaden with a clattering sound. He already knew how to wield this precious sword while on horseback. It was ridiculous to say the least, but the sword would guide my arm into a true trajectory as if it were with my body.

　--Zogi, yee!

　The purple light shines, and the sword cuts through the helmet of the enemy, stirring up their brain plasma. Something that can't be called blood or bodily fluids splattered all around me, staining the sky.

　My arm neighed in pain as if it couldn't take the impact. My eyes twisted involuntarily.

　Every time my arm was dragged by the sword, a part of my body let out a creak. It's like when you were a child and you swung a long sword that you couldn't even lift. The feeling of not wielding a sword, but being wielded. Not using a weapon, but being used by a weapon.

　It's not working. Not yet. Not even close. If you're going to put your foot down as a hero, you'll be laughed at like this.

　Heldt Stanley's strike was sharper. Kalia's swing was even heavier than this. Then it was time to reach beyond.

"Master Lugis, we have a slight opening in front of us, what do you want us to do?

　I'm not sure if it was the effect of cracking the helmet head or one of the commanders, but the front line of the Great Sacred Church relaxed. It's not hard, but it's flexible. They are not solid, but they are flexible.

　And even though the other side is showing some signs of unraveling, we are not losing in terms of collapse. At any rate, the front line is now in a state of melee. It's rare to see a proper formation.

　What are you going to do?" I replied to the soldier with the tip of my spear reddening, saying that it was obvious.

Of course, only an absolute attack. Of course, if we can't get in front of them, everyone behind us will have to hang themselves. Have everyone around us who can move get ready to charge.

　That's right. I'm sure you're right. Right now, I and hundreds or thousands of other soldiers around me are wielding spears and blades on the front lines in the middle of the battlefield.

　As a tactic to achieve victory, the heraldry has decided to devour a single point in the center. It is a tactic to put as many troops as possible into the center of the battlefield and make them move forward even after taking damage.

　That Largd-Anne let out a sorrowful voice and said that the only way out was this or retreat. Then there's only one thing I can do.

　The scars on my cheeks and knots ached. I took a chewed tobacco from my pocket and sipped it for a moment to ease the pain. My head feels clearer and clearer.

"Look, don't die so easy. If you don't die, I'll buy you a drink at a nice restaurant.

　I said to the soldiers around me, and suddenly there was a little laugh. The people around me were people who knew full well that they were going to die on the front lines, but they were still here. Some were older than me, some were younger.

　Every one of them could have been spattered with blood and bones the next time I saw them. In fact, it would be more natural.

　One deep breath. The hundred or so people around you are ready to charge. And so does Fialaat's chant.

"Fie alert, you--

　I was going to tell you to return to the rearguard after you've delivered this blow. After all, Fialaat was a valuable magical asset.

　If you put him back in the rearguard and let him rest, he will be useful enough even in case of emergency. I thought that it was the best decision for the field.

"Oh, so I'm the only one left?　That's not very nice.

　I held my lips at the bite of his words. I felt my cheeks harden.

　I narrowed my eyes as a thought flashed through my skull, wondering what to do.

　But Fialaat had a point. She should have been prepared to go to the front with him. It would be nothing but an insult to her to ask her to leave as soon as she is done.



　Then it's okay.

　When I said I was sorry over my back, there was a slight nod. Then Fialaat said.

You're going to show me a good place to eat later, right? I'm really looking forward to it.

　His firm voice passed right by my neck. It was a sharp voice that seemed to cut right down my back.

　It was meant to make the soldiers laugh, but I wondered if Fialaat understood the joke. I wondered if Fialaat understood my joke. I'm sure he didn't mean it literally when he said he was looking forward to it.

　The exchange between me and Fialaat elicited another round of light, throaty laughter from the surrounding soldiers. Let me tell you, this is really no laughing matter.

　As I did so, I relaxed my shoulders lightly and slowly let out a breath. You probably won't be able to rest much longer. The only thing left to do is to see how far you can get through the enemy in one breath. For a moment, you look at the soldiers around you, all of them. Then he blinked his eyelids and gave the signal to Fialaat.

　From the front, the Archdiocese's soldiers were finally trying to regain their footing. Just as well, the most effective way to do that is to thwart them. I remember being taught that a long time ago.

　--Now, let's get to work on the battlefield.

　An unvoiced voice, a sorcerer's breath, echoed from Fialaert's throat. A sorcerer's blessing, the ultimate one that rewrites the world's logic with its own will. It shook the world.

　Instantly, a muddy stream covered the plain.

　The volume and pressure of the water was beyond what was possible on the plain. The enemy soldiers were swallowed by the water that suddenly appeared and had the bizarre experience of drowning, even though they were on the ground. In addition, the pressure of the water easily dispelled their feet. The position I had started to regain has now collapsed again.

　This was the third time Fialaat had used battlefield magic. Although she sounded unconcerned, she really must be almost at her limit. And yet, Fialaert says, she's still going to the front.

　Then there's nothing to say. She'll just perform the same act again that she did when she trampled Philos' city soldiers.

　He said, as the muddy water that had been poured into the enemy lines cut his body.

Let's trample them down and conquer them!

　The frenzied and savage voices of the soldiers roared across the battlefield. In the glorious sunlight, the soldiers rushed forward.