Fly the Flag of Fire!

The stars inform the direction. The moon also produces light and shadow at night.

See the shade of shrubs scattered across the wilderness. Seeing the shadow of the changeable ups and downs. Keep staring at the bright and dark areas where the flowing clouds keep changing. The land painted for battle is disguised as quiet this night, but such things are immediately revealed who they are with one thought. Bloody windy land and fruitful. He knows that.

In the shadow of horseback riding on the hill, Terencio Barcelo was breathing a warm night's air. It is a single ride that does not involve troops under its command. Barcelo had made it his custom to do it on the moon and night. For a single purpose, it is a reconnaissance of the battlefield, and a detailed examination of the terrain is also an important act in support of his military strategy.

That was a task that could be done half automatically. Information flows through the superficial layers of consciousness, lightly organized and remembered. Same as breathing or heartbeat. For him, war was life, horses were legs. A spear was a nail, and a subordinate was a body. That's why he was alive. I haven't lived a fruitful life in over a decade.

The crash plains were spectacular.

Barcelona enjoys herself while standing under the moon alone. Several tactics come to mind and disappear, and float and disappear. Both the wind walking on horseback and the feeling of bumping into each other as a force, just doing this, naturally many are imagined. Is that what the amount of blood paid for in this wilderness makes you do? Barcelo felt something to say, even the strangeness of war. Everything he looked over was his stage.

Feeling something, Barcelo turned its face eastward. Enemy territory extends beyond the twisted ups and downs and neglected grass trees. It used to be more than half the land that was ravaged. By that time he was an Imperial colonel, leading a regiment of three thousand cavalry men. It went around... Barcelona had a slight smile on her mouth.

Investigate the ground, read people, and slap the army. The three thousand horsemen led by Barcelo went forth everywhere in the kingdom, and vanished into nowhere after the damage. I was always lonely. It sounds good when it comes to the guerrilla force, which in fact played its part in full twelve, but that's just the result of Barcelo's fight to survive.

His troops were an imperial troublemaker. He was also not allowed to join one end of the great army, and had always been forced to re-war a plain and troublesome battlefield. And I can't help replenishing it. I've been told verbally to make an effort to procure locally. In the middle of an enemy land that still leaves its power, it was given no food, no place to rest, if it was just commanded to fight... there was no other technique than to raze the enemy's supply line.

I never attacked a village or a town. Not by mercy or cleanliness. His cavalry believed in speed and was only good at flirting with enemy troops, but not for base attacks. Being a loner was applauding the trend. Until you strike the village and drop it. As a matter of fact, if you refuse to leave while collecting the necessary supplies, you won't be able to stand. As a result of the considerations of efficiency and safety, Barcelo rather targeted the Royal Army's transportation supplies. We've got all the stuff we need. Aim there. I kept aiming. And he met the man.

Salomon Hahato.

He is the man who led the prostitute army of the Kingdom of Asuria. Afterwards, he formed an army of defeated soldiers and others, tailored to one powerful and incomparable force, to torment and defeat the Imperial Army. At the end of the day, the invasion was thwarted by devastating damage to the Imperial Army, so Barcelo thinks the feat would have been incomparable in the kingdom. For the Empire, it is a symbol of despair and an opponent such as resentment bone marrow, so the news of its death was widely welcomed with joy.

To the best of Barcelo's knowledge, he was an ever-winning and undefeated general, his most fearful enemy and, at the same time, his most heartfelt opponent. It was very similar to him and Salomon. I have no personality as an individual. It wasn't a peaceful relationship enough to know that. The army. The nature of each other's troops was similar.

The emphasis on light cavalry was similar in that it sought to use the battlefield extensively with mobility. The point of managing the troops with thorough control was similar. The point of not choosing the means if it was for victory was similar, as was the reluctance to recklessly leave luck to heaven. Most importantly, they were both lonely. I had a tragedy where one failure could be directly linked to death.

And it was also common where he used a battlefield unrelated to glamour as his workplace. When it came to the Imperial Army floral form, it was a Kingsguard led by the Crown Prince, and when it came to the Royal Army floral form, it was a special warrior led by the brave. Both Barcelo and Salomon were bounced off the historic stage where they would fight each other by name. Both were shaders. Barcelo looks back, wondering if that's why he's been hit three times.

The Salomon army was strong. It was a clear winless settlement on all three occasions, and then and in view of the whole thing, it was just a detrimental result. It was nowhere near his reach in a strategic perspective. But in tactical terms, they were mutual, and it was the battlefield that influenced his retreat that was kingdom territory. The land was in Salomon. Barcelo was aware of it in the wilderness landscape.

Here... if you were relative to Salomon in the Plains of Wreck... Well, what do you think?

In Barcelo's eyes the banner of the brave army was visionary. If it came out of the shadows there, please. If you came running from that hill over there, please. How it changes, how it responds, how it divides in, how it cleaves. Three thousand horsemen and three thousand horsemen were engaged in an eye-catching manoeuvre in the moonlight crash plains. Barcelo realized he was repeating his hand signal. But I'm not sure which army's hand signal it is. Sooner or later, he was becoming Salomon and destroying his army. It was tactical enough to roar as I did.

The last decade or so makes Barcelo do it. If possible. The illusion of the Salomon army burned in the back of his brain in three battles continues to regenerate with enough enthusiasm to make Barcelona fight the battle of his dreams if he appears more than once in the darkness at night. In that battle, Barcelona was often Salomon. I was using unknown tactics before his tactics. That was an artistically vivid tactic.

He doesn't laugh at Berta. I don't laugh at Berta immersing herself in just one thrusting move. Not because that is producing results. Because he's the same again. Barcelona has always fought Salomon in a way. Because I've been asking for all this tactical defeat of Salomon.

And it was also the same to be losing someone to bump into a polished technique. The enemy general where he recognized the value of betting on all of his own has been killed, either by it or by the hands of an enemy nation. Barcelona just takes that fact in a flamboyant way. There is a complication in my mind that I can't even tidy up.

Berta had rejected Salomon's prison death as "the foolishness of the kingdom". I think Barcelo, as her lack of vengeance, in some distorted way, leads to contempt for the Kingdom of Asuria itself.

I didn't know. In fact, Barcelo escaped with a clear sign of death on his back. Shortly after the Crown Princes were wiped out, the power ratio east of the crash plains had become ridiculous. Barcelona crossed the plain to the west in the mood to be pursued by dozens of times more enemies than his troops. It was an escape frightened by the shadow of Salomon. How about that? When did Salomon become certified as a demon and burned as a piece of firewood? Neither did the pursuit troops come across the plains of the crime. Barcelo thinks he's not the only one who picked up his life.

Barcelo sees it at a different angle, though, only to Berta as the fool of the kingdom. I don't feel like any other person. Salomon's death was shocking and contained enough poison to make Barcelo feel the end of his military life.

What a vain story. What Barcelo felt next to the relief he had picked up his life was nothingness. It's a nightmare last for a man who runs the battlefield. Power, religion, the masses… all that Barcelona should repel, who wants the army to live and die, put their hands together to kill an eminent general. What makes you think that the intention to kill cannot be directed at you? Barcelona overlays Salomon and himself.

Because he has been an imperial troublemaker for a long time. His troops are treated cold, nothing more than because he is personally treated cold. No one can stop it because it's the cause. I can't help it.

Imperial serviceman Terencio Barcelo is abhorred by Everian Emperor Reimund.

That was widely known as a public secret. There are theories about why, but Barcelo himself was particularly fond of rumors of intimacy with the Queen. It was so ridiculous, it seemed delightful to reject it. Sometimes if the topic extends to it in some fold, you dare laugh deeply and show it.

The truth has no fine dust such as colour. He killed one of the emperor's bastards. That's all.

As a concubine's son, he was a man whose military talent was loved by his father, the Emperor. Sometimes he was older than his youngest son, and he was expected to support his brother as a general to go. Because I don't have enough qualifications in my maternal bloodstream, or maybe I've been done enough to start a new Duke's house. I couldn't help but say I was drowning. Barcelo thinks there is the wisdom of Emperor Reimund around the area that still did not give him the right to inherit the throne.

He was brilliant in leading the troops and boasted undefeated against the generals who were inexperienced in action but lined up in practice. There were lots of draws, but I never lost first. Do you see that as strength, or as the care of the generals? There was a division of opinion, but I guess the emperor's fierceness could not leave it ambiguous. Or maybe the young man himself had something to think about.

To test his qualities, the man who was told to seriously deal with him...... that was Barcelo. At the time he commanded two squadrons of light cavalry five hundred horsemen as an Imperial Captain.

One squadron led two hundred and fifty horsemen at a time, and the two confronted each other. It was a simulated battle using sticks of the same length for a change of spear. Barcelona didn't give in. That's what he was ordered to do, and his opponent was just raging to make it look like it in the first place. He also had strength, but above all, Barcelo recalls, as he was desperate. He was attacking Barcelona with obvious intent to kill.

So I broke down with a relentless blow. A light cavalry manoeuvre battle is not just about having to be fast. How to wear it, how to block it, how to cut it open. Barcelo broke the opponent's momentum for backwards, so literally many rides blew away, including the young man in command.

At that time, he admitted defeat with few words, even with a frightened face. I think the emperor was also telling us to feed on this defeat. Because the confrontation was kept secret by the other generals in his honor, Barcelo simply withdrew and finished the day's work after being sworn to secrecy along with his men who took part. The liquor bill was out.

And you will hear the obituary. It was a bad hit. Though it wasn't the fracture, he was hitting his head hard when he fell off. Officially, an announcement was made that he was ill... but with that day at the border, Barcelo went off the streets of his birth within the army. Still the best and the only reason I could be promoted to an Imperial colonel was because Barcelo got all that fighting power. Successfully completed a dangerous mission. I rose to strength.

But now I'm demoted and living my days as an Imperial Lieutenant Colonel. Because the Crown Prince was rebelled as the one who fled while being debated. I wasn't on that scene as a separate task force in the first place, so that was for no reason whatsoever abusive. But as a result of the favorable movement of the upper ranks of the army, the demotion alone was enough. He also said that the word execution had appeared for a time. Not sure who mentioned it, but Barcelo could think of the face of the person who said it away. Does that mean the second one? Without knowing the psychological position, the psychology of parents who lost their children could not have been analysed by Barcelo, for example.

Exhalation flushes into the wind.

The white moonlight only seemed to lure the warriors into a retrospective stray. Trying to get the horse's head back west, but Barcelo once again threw his gaze to the other side of the east. Something still seemed to attract him.

"Marco......"

The labyrinth of moonlight, thinking of Salomon and also of the emperor's common son, was perhaps induced by a boy with that name. That's what Barcelo came to think.

Marco, a 14-year-old boy cavalry. who is said to be a villager in the kingdom and to have come to belong to its SS from his devotion to the Third Princess. One horse inside the cavalry of "Fire”. And...... humans who might use Salomon's spear moves.

Who is it? Barcelo can't help but be concerned.

The tremendous result of the Third Princess SS...... it was learned that there was no Captain Axeli Arnell among the light cavalry where it was important. Then is the outcome a coincidence? Or was it in the light cavalry that there was a true commander? If it is the latter, its commander is the one who will succeed Salomon. I don't even know the tactics yet... but I'm pretty sure he's the one who's going to inherit Salomon's strategy. That's all there is to it. It's only a story if it's done for.

Barcelo silences himself.

I wasn't even going to get an answer. There were too many assumptions, and I was aware of myself being held captive by Salomon. We must avoid thinking too much of the dead. But I can't erase my obsessive thoughts. Barcelo was surprised by himself like that. I felt somewhat rejuvenated. It was as if he had stood back during the war once upon a time.

I was looking east.

Still ahead of that view dominated by the night, he was sensing signs of the rising yang.