I wrapped my fingers in the glove and bent my fingers a few times. As I let out a breath, the temperature was already high enough to see the white haze. Unknowingly, my shoulders begin to shake.

　Trying to hide from the cold, I clop my horse's hooves and move along the road with the soldiers. The neighs of the horses are quiet today. Even the soldiers seemed to have lost some of the strength and tension in their cheeks.

　I can't blame them. After all, they were not going to the battlefield today, nor were they going to train. We are simply going to the city of Philos to receive supplies and exchange information.

　If that's the purpose of the trip, the soldiers I'm escorting will be drained, whether they like it or not. And since I myself am marching with a chewing tobacco in my mouth, it would be foolish to warn the soldiers.

　Bandits and brigands are not stupid enough to make enemies of a well-equipped army, even if they are few in number. In addition, there's still time for the hexenbiest to make itself active.

　Besides... The soldiers have been on their toes for a while now, training for battle. In the event you're not sure what to do, you can always ask your doctor. If that's the case, I'd like to give him a break for a little while.

　I'm not sure what to do, but I'm going to try to do it.

"So, Ann. What's the name of this collaborator?

　I say to Largd-Anne, who is riding the same warhorse and is being rocked by me from behind. The air is dry enough for me to hear, though the voices of the soldiers walking around me are loud.

　I wonder if she is wearing a scarf or something to keep her mouth shut. Anne spoke back in a very muffled voice.

Yes. I'm Roseau, a representative of the Chamber of Commerce. I've heard that you're an articulate man.

　I've heard he's a good speaker," Anne added, "though he's notorious for being all talk.

　I heard in detail that the reason why the city of Philos could only pour out a small number of troops at the Battle of Sarnio was because of the help of a man named Roseau. Well, it seems that he did very well. On the other hand, I heard that he paid a fair price.

　But all you can do is talk... I heard that word again and it hurts my ears.

　At any rate, it's just like the old me, and there's no doubt that I've used my tongue a lot to get to this point. You can't deny that you used your tongue to incite people and bring them to the battlefield.

　When I think about it, I can't help but feel sympathy for Roseau. I was told that he would be coming to meet me at the delivery of these supplies. It would be a good idea to have a drink with him if the opportunity arose. The conversation might be more pleasant than expected.

"You've met Anne before, right? What was she like?

　I felt Anne nodding behind me as the words escaped her lips. She seems to be quite sensitive to the cold. I felt her voice tremble slightly.

"Yeah. We've only exchanged a few words. Well, as long as you're working with gold, you're trustworthy.

　When I was about to ask him if he was not a trustworthy person from the bottom of his heart, his cheeks flushed.

　--.

　From behind me, from a great distance. There was a sharp sound of something hard and heavy tearing through the sky. Then, after a beat, the sound changed to a crunching sound. And it was so close to me. My ears twitched as if they were shriveling up from the cold.

　It wasn't the sound of trees bending in the wind, or a wagon wheel breaking. It was the unmistakable sound of blood and flesh crushing and splattering.

　When I looked to the side, I saw a reddish-black tear from the neck of the soldier who was swinging his spear beside me. At first glance, it was hard to believe that it had really been speaking until just now. On the ground, there was a stone the size of a fist, smeared with blood. They are not natural. It was a stone pellet, crafted by human hands.

　In an instant, the air is filled with tension. The space itself is heavy, as if choked.

　The weight of it stopped the horses, the soldiers, and everyone else in their tracks. The sound of the wind cutting through the air came from behind me in succession.

　Without letting any thought pass through his skull, he heard a voice.

"Don't stop. Run, die, run!

　As soon as he cleared his throat, he pulled on the reins of the warhorse. As soon as the soldiers heard my voice, they reflexively stamped their feet. If I don't run, I'll be killed by the stone bullets raining down from behind. The soldiers who stopped in their tracks must have been good bait for the remote weapon.

　What the hell is going on? The only question spreading through my brain as I quickly give orders to my soldiers. I don't know why they're after my back. I don't know who or where is behind it.

　But someone is definitely turning on me and my men right now. That much is certain. And it's using a very dangerous means of throwing rocks.

　The sound of the wind and its destructive power. He couldn't have just grabbed it by the hand and thrown it. He must have used a stone thrower with a string.



　Unlike the bow and arrow, the stone thrower loses its accuracy, but its packed killing intent is real. The stone, a clear weapon, has a weapon of speed to kill repeatedly. With the right wind, it can easily pierce even iron armor.

　A few times, the sound of hollow chopping strikes my ears. At the same time, I hear the sound of soldiers crumbling, and the sound of the surrounding trees being crushed. The sound itself seemed to have a lot of weight to it.

　But fortunately, it seems that the stone throwers are not that good. From the corner of my eye, I could see the stone projectiles flying into the forest, sometimes far from the troops.

　Originally, stone throwing was far superior to the bow and arrow in that it was easier for amateurs to handle. Because of this, it is often used more by bandits and militias than by the regular army. For this reason, well-trained stone throwing units are quite rare.

　The moment I thought that. I felt something very cold touch the edge of my head. It was much colder than the surrounding chill. I had a very, very bad imagination in my head.

　At best, bandits and militia would use stone throwers. But what kind of bandit would want to attack an honorably armed soldier?

　No, of course not. If I were in the opposite situation, I would take the initiative to spear an unarmed man or a merchant company. Why would bandits attack soldiers walking around with their empty wagons exposed?

　Then... This is not an act of looting for supplies. It's an act of war with a clear purpose and intent to kill.

　--Who's going to do that to us now?

　It can't be bandits. Archbishop's troops can crush us far more efficiently with bows and arrows than with stones.

　If that's the case... There's only one force left in the vicinity. The militia of the autonomous city of Philos.

　That's ridiculous. That's not possible. Why would they? There's no need for them to antagonize us or the heraldry now.

　In fact, the city itself will die out if they are foolish enough to go into battle now that the cold season is upon us. So there is no way that such a foolish thing can happen.

"Hold on tight, Anne.

　A war horse neighed. I bent down and ran to the planned rendezvous point, driven by the sky-splitting roar coming from behind me.

　I felt something close to a chill run down my spine.