You know it's a trap more often than not. It's like putting your foot in a lion's mouth.

　But sometimes we have to do it, even though we know it. That is, when we are trapped and our feet are on fire. It's a feeling of clinging to straws.

　In front of the back gate of Garouamalia. The raiding party, made up of reservists and part of the garrison, had been assembled because they could not stand the heat at their feet.

　There were two hundred in all. Even the reserves and Garou Amalia's volunteers had been recruited, so there was no end in sight.

　The frontal troops led by Kalia were in a standoff, and we could not send them to reinforce us. The moment we do, if the enemy gets to the front, it will be the end of everything. The back gate had to be filled with a handful of soldiers.

　Bernard, the heraldic soldier, lightly brushes his rippling blade with a cloth and waits for the signal to charge. His eyes narrowed as the noise rang in his ears.

　He knew that the situation was serious enough that he was being used as a reservist, a risk factor.

　The two hundred people here would probably all die. That was what it meant to storm the enemy lines. To wound the enemy's head even at the cost of damage. There was no way back.

　Bernard couldn't stand the fact that there were young soldiers, old soldiers, and even people who seemed to live in the poorhouse. He gripped the long sword tightly.

　Bernard's heart was in the most complicated state. He hated the heroes, but he was still attached to the city of Galuamaria, where Salainio had done so much. He couldn't imagine letting it fall into the hands of anyone other than the heralds.

　Then, no matter what your heart is, you have to fight. But I couldn't stop thinking about whether this was really the right thing to do. What would Salainio have done? This question had been recurring in Bernard's mind since a while ago.

　At the end of the unanswered question, a loud bell rang. The sound of someone's heartbeat struck his eardrums harder than ever.

"Don't look anywhere but ahead!　Charge!

　After a breath, it came. Suddenly, yet inevitably.

　The first to jump out was a boy soldier, followed by Bernard. The captain on horseback snapped his hoof. Everyone shouted. If they didn't raise their voices, they wouldn't be able to step onto the seemingly endless battlefield of two hundred men.

　The contact was much more immediate than I had expected. The enemy soldiers, who had broken ranks, easily accepted the assault of the raiding party. For the first time in a long time, the blood of the enemy soldiers spurted out and soaked the ground.

　The first to collide was a small unit of about thirty men. Was it an advance party taking a short break, or a sentry unit? They were destroyed before they could be identified.

　In a sense, the frustration of losing the rest gave the assault force momentum. The allies clenched their teeth and shouted for a temporary victory. Not wanting to kill the momentum, they launched the next assault.

　The entire enemy line was undulating as if agitated, but the formation was not yet fully formed. Now, he could even penetrate the main line.

　It looked like it. But Bernard frowns. Even as he ran, his eyes scanned his surroundings. Perhaps it was because he had once led an army, but he was remarkably calm, even on the battlefield.

　And he's sure. It's a trap after all. Bernard muttered to himself as he swung his blade in waves.

　The enemy soldiers seemed to be in a state of panic, but their flags were moving quickly. The troops were moving in an orderly fashion, a sign that the commander's voice was getting through.

　They are being led deeper and deeper. The enemy soldiers were slowly retreating, probably to keep us from escaping. Perhaps they are trying to demoralize the garrison by annihilating the raiding party that had jumped into the fray.

　With that in mind, Bernard said nothing and did not turn on his heel. He knew they were unstoppable.

　That's what warfare is all about. If the result is that we die this time, then so be it. That's what Bernard was thinking.

　--Go, oh!

　The assault that had begun with the sound of bells came to an end with the roar of the beast.

　The sorcerous beastmen appeared through the gaps in the ranks, and the enemy troops that had been scattered earlier began to successfully overlap and surround Bernard and his raiding party.

　No matter where you look in all directions, you will find enemy units in formation. Even a layman could see that an assault would result in death.

　He was very good. The enemy commander is very good at seeing the weakness in people. He knows what people who have fallen into weakness will do.

　The magic beasts and magic armored soldiers surrounding them were not graceful, but heroic. They were not graceful, but heroic, to the extent that a prepared assailant would have salivated at the thought.

I'm sure you've heard of them.

　The woman's voice sounded familiar. It must have been the enemy commander who had shouted surrender to the entire back gate several times. But now, the slight softness in her voice had disappeared, and her tone had changed to one of taunting.

'But this is where it ends. Be graceful and die before civilization, you talking apes.



　He had a voice that was used to looking down on people. The faces of all the raiders turned grim. But if they turned their backs on him, they would surely die.

　So there was nothing to do but grit their teeth and stomp through the dead snow to figure out the next best thing.

　That's what the Bolvaart soldiers, the ones who surrounded him, thought. That's the normal thinking of a cornered man.

　But many of the raiders didn't give it a second thought. They were just thinking about how to kill the enemy commander.

　If there was one thing that was unfortunate for the Borvat soldiers. Many of these 200 soldiers, sometimes allies, sometimes enemies, had met a man once on the battlefield.

　I'm sure that man wouldn't just give up right now. He would certainly smile and say, "Let's go kill him. It was probably not a coincidence that most of the soldiers were thinking of the same man at this moment.

　After all, it was that man who had brought the heraldic soldiers to this desperate battlefield. They were motivated by him and came to this place prepared to die. If it weren't for him, many of the heraldic soldiers wouldn't be here.

　Bernard snorted involuntarily. Then he turned to the boy looking ahead. The soldiers around him were cornered, but they had a strange, raw will to fight.

"Shall we go, boy?

"Yes, sir. I'm scared.

　The boy, the old soldier, and the volunteer soldier were all looking at the same thing. The captain of their side, still on his horse, said in a laughing tone.

"Straight into it!　When I die, I'll be the first to die!　You'll all die after I'm dead!

　These words sounded like something someone had said somewhere. At the same time, a group of two hundred soldiers began to charge directly at the enemy's main position.

　It was the first surprise assault of the day for the Borvat soldiers. No normal army would just charge forward without showing its back to the enemy or deliberately charging into a thin layer.

　It was a maniacal assault unique to the battlefield. But in a way, it prolonged their lives.

　The out-of-bounds action caused a moment of hesitation in the response of the Borvat forces. For the first time, the voices of the unit commanders were muffled. The soldiers who had formed up took a few steps.

　The result was a successful assault by the assaulting forces. They successfully engaged the enemy soldiers head-on, and more than a dozen of them died as a matter of course. Both friend and foe took their fair share of damage.

　That's the way it is in hand-to-hand combat. But even so, if the soldiers kept moving forward with their will to fight, they would survive much longer than if they turned their backs and ran away.

　So they survived.

　At the moment when Borvat and the heraldry and each other's soldiers gritted their teeth. The sandstorm came.