Am I brave or am I reckless?

　This is the question that every person who decides to go down an uncertain path asks himself at least once in his mind.

　Is my decision right or is it wrong? No matter how strong and active your mind is, you will be troubled by such an idle question at least for a while.

　After all, a decision requires courage, and courage is a cruel thing that sometimes costs lives.

　In the outskirts of the city of Philos, Largd-Anne was asking herself the same question. Am I brave or am I extremely reckless?

　Anne could not seem to find an answer.

　She had never run her intellect on the subject of courage before. Things always have their advantages and disadvantages, and if they are in your favor, you move, if they are against you, you don't move. For Anne, reality was supposed to be just that.

　Bravery and daring are like a drop of uplifting medicine to move forward. In truth, Anne thinks, they are unworthy of real questioning.

　But even so, she taunted herself in her heart that she was not much of a man, for she would cling to such things as courage if she were left on the edge of a cliff.

　If she were a grown woman, she would have done something about it before she got into trouble. With a small shrug of her shoulders in imitation of someone else, Anne sighed close to a smile and pulled on the reins.

　The flaxen tent is already beginning to show in her vision. At this time of year, there was only one force that would set up a tent and camp near the city of Philos.

　There, Salainio and his entourage would be waiting with fangs in the air. There was also the danger that the rebels he had sent to lead them might be plotting against him. Anne thinks that's unlikely.

　At any rate, the scouts said that Salainio and the others had marched in a terribly orderly fashion, like a model army. They reported that they had not requisitioned any supplies from the surrounding villages. He also said that he had already made arrangements with the cities that had connections with the heraldry.

　It was a good thing. If only the enemy had been a little more sloppy, Ann gritted her teeth on her horse, wishing she hadn't put herself in danger.

　But from these actions, Salainio's policy was clear. He is above all a man of principle. He does not march out of emotion, but only with the knowledge that the organization will survive beyond his actions.

　That's why the reason for raising troops is to conquer the tyranny of Largd-Anne. It was not for their own benefit, but for the sake of the heraldry.

　Therefore, you cannot move without a good cause. You can't move without a cause, especially with the people who are with you now.

"Largd-an--is that it? That sand-colored tent belongs to the Garleist, doesn't it?

　Gagged companion. Telsalat-Lewana, a high-ranking fighter from the southern nation of Illyssarde, had no idea of Anne's tense state of mind and voiced her interest.

　Anne smiled back at the familiar, yet somehow tense, voice. She felt her shoulders relax unconsciously.

"Yes, Master Tersarat. "Yes, Master Telsalat. We don't often use the color sand, but that's the color of most tents here.

　Telsalat nodded with interest and kept the light in his eyes. As I had discovered on the way here, Tersarat seemed to be a curious man by nature.

　Ann felt that Tersarat was a man with a bit of childishness, though she thought it was rude to talk about what he saw and heard. The difference from his mature appearance made it even more pronounced. She was very different from the person I had imagined her to be.

　A high-ranking fighter of Illyssarde is a proud being who is always studying and training in the Land of Sandstone, and thus becomes the spear and shield that protects the nation. Their way of life, going to the battlefield without regard for even their lives, is sometimes described as barbaric by garlicists.

　It was surprising to Anne that such a man who had probably devoted much of his life to warfare had the honesty of a child. In a good way, of course.

　The reason she had asked Tersarat to attend the meeting with Salainio this time was that she was a messenger from Earizaldo, and a high-ranking fighter.

　If Salainio were to harm her, Elyseald would certainly bare her maniacal fangs. Although they were said to be suffering from a demon disaster, they would surely retaliate.

　That's what Elyzard is, and that's what the people of his country are. A nation that is poor in resources, and where everyone has an instinct that can be described as frantic. It would have been better to call it the land of iron and blood than the land of sand and stone.

　Anne only told Tersarat that she was going to meet with a heraldic elder. She asked him to be her witness.

　He also informed Salainio through the messenger to that effect. Salainio must have understood our intentions.

　If he were to turn on Tersarat, he would surely make an enemy of the Elysealds, and if he were to seize Anne alone and cut off her head, the Elysealds would know that the heraldic forces were a fragile organization that was dividing internally.

　I'm sure Salainio wouldn't want that to happen.

　Instead, Anne thinks that he will nod his head in agreement with her. But either way, it was a gamble. After all, we only have a few men with us as guards. If a spear were to come at us, it would be the end.

　Salainio is a man who has something deep inside him. Like the saint Mattia and the hero Lugis. Perhaps that's the way it should be for a superior.

　When she arrived at Salainio's camp, she could feel his gaze on her skin. Anne straightened her dress and resolutely fought them off.

　This was now a battlefield. One's attitude is determined by one's opponent's behavior and appearance. If Ann showed even a hint of weakness here, it would affect the outcome of the meeting.

　I will not tolerate such a lax attitude. If it was limited to the realm of interpersonal negotiations, Anne was as proud as anyone.

　Suddenly, while waiting for the guiding soldiers to arrive. Anne looked at Tersarat. Then she said aloud, only slightly.

"...... By the way, Mr. Telsalat. Why are you, no ......, dressed so well for the battlefield?



　Telsalat wears the distinctive black armor of the Eyriezard on her hands and feet, and the armor they prefer on their arms and waist. She is tall and looks good when she wears it, though it does not hide her feminine charm.

　In all likelihood, she was not going to a meeting, but was dressed as if she were going into battle. He had been wearing a cloak earlier, so it was hard to see, but now that he looked again, it stood out.

　Tersarat responded with an air of enthusiasm and pride.

"Oh, don't worry. I am familiar with the civilization of the Garleist nation. A meeting is a meeting where people stick blades to each other's throats, right? Then it is only natural that this Telsalat-Lewana should be dressed in formal attire.

　I'm sure you're right," Tersarat said confidently, and Anne's cheeks flushed slightly. And so, with a hint of concern in her heart, she thought.

　It seems that this Tersarat fighter is also a race that I am not good at.

　In fact, I heard that Telsalat had been involved with Lugis in some small way. So it's clear who planted the false image of the Garristian in her mind.

　Anne sighed in her mouth and suppressed her brows so that no one would notice. She hadn't expected to have to think about him until what might be her last moment.

　At some point, a soldier stepped forward and offered to guide him. I followed his lead and stepped into the great tent. It was adorned with heraldry and looked slightly more opulent than the other tents, but it definitely belonged to the commander.

　Anne took a deep breath and let it out in a small exhale. Stepping into the great tent, she said.

"Long time no see. Lord Salainio. Seeing you like this makes me nostalgic for the days when I was under your tutelage.

　Salainio responded to Anne's words with a smile. Salainio responded to Ann's words with a smile, his soft but deep eyes catching both Ann's and Tersarat's.

Everything is nostalgic now. But one cannot move forward by dwelling on the past, can one not, Largd-Ann?