Fly the Flag of Fire!

There was a breeze that stroked my left cheek and disturbed my hair. It is a southerly wind that flows from the “Purple Cloud Sea” with water. It often blows all seasons, and is oddly cold at all times. It is entangled in the neck muscle, slipping clothes through the narrow space of the armor, and stimulating rather than drying the sticky sweat with fatigue.

Berta shook herself on the horse. Armor with missing elbows and shoulder areas was poorly balanced in weight, rather heavy. The luxurious battle coat is also torn, worn, and cannot be sealed from the outside air. This southerly wind was poisonous on my condensed, chilled out body. It freezes even my heart. Sharpen the energy to bite your teeth from the roots.

It was a march through the dim darkness of the plain of death. The sky, which has not yet dawned, is seeping vastly purple, and it teaches that the colour of the sun looms from the back. Berta accidentally wanted to cry, but that's not acceptable.

It was a huge defeat.

From the east, where more than 100,000 large armies and military flags proudly attacked, they lost everything and fled. How many now walk miserably after being chased on the day of ascent? Berta exhaled unceasingly, thinking of her compatriots scattered in the wilderness. Hit your eaten teeth. It scatters white from the edge of your mouth.

There was a herd of about one hundred and fifty people around her. The dozens of horseback riders are the face of the Golden Sword Knights, which also have dozens more in walking with horses lost. Those who remain only know that they are Imperial Army and do not know their affiliation. I don't even know where I was in that last meeting. Those who, in breaking away and desperate to live, have found a marginal chance for survival in the shadow of Berta and others.

It is no longer the army. It was not armed against Yotayota and the walkers. There is no drink, no food, and no one who helps the wounded and fallen. Everyone goes west in silence. As a matter of fact, that step is not aimed at the mainland of the Empire. Relay point. Supplementary relay point where food and beverages and allies should be. I wanted to get there.

Eventually, the morning sun illuminates a line and continues without rest, with his back burned chillily by the wretched blue skies of the winter sky. I didn't feel like stopping. If you stop, you'll be swallowed. I'm swallowed by that flame.

To that terrible flame called Marco.

Berta noted with strong interest that everyone was surprised when the kingdom brought the boy up to represent him even before the meeting. Because the name Marco sounded familiar. The only technique that Berta can polish as a unique technique... is the name of the one who may legitimately inherit the technique used by the demon Salomon.

Relative to the same battlefield. Even if that was an unfavourable circumstance and a predicament that we could not hope for, such as victory, if we were not prepared to hit with determination, the moment might come when we could cross a spear if we were on edge. Berta thought so, but now she mocks herself for her own obscurity, if not enough.

The blade released from the mouth of a fourteen-year-old martial artist tore the Imperial Army to pieces. It was as if a flaming giant had appeared. The giants smashed Berta and the others all they wanted with their nails and fangs, dipped them in poison, and at the end of the day burned them down. Berta recalls that it was a sight of magic. Fear revived and annoyed me. By the power of each of them, I didn't feel that there was a time to fall. If there was one man in the army of 100,000 who couldn't win, it was already the devil's. It's too trivial whether or not to use the magic of the demon Salomon. You should have doubted if you were a new demon.

In fact, at that time, more than 32,000 imperial troops were created a cause of defeat by him alone. The Emperor lost half his sanity before he even shot him in the mouth. Shortly after I set up the messenger of response, I shot that one and shouted out, "Kill that one." I've been in a frenzy.

There is a boy in front waving his demon's tongue throwing up fire, and behind him there is an emperor who shows his madness without being able to hide it. Why should we remain wary? How can I boost my morale? Why should I hold a weapon with pride as an imperial soldier?

Moreover, an attack has been ordered on all armies as the life of the emperor. What tactics should be used to bump against the oblique formation of the enemy... or should we not bump... everything Berta and the others were distressed about disappeared with foam by one of its orders. Parental recruitment is that. No matter how the generals prepare the plan, your life passes without giving it a glimpse. Besides, protecting the emperor is an absolute condition. Every movement has been constrained, and the enemy has relentlessly flushed its weaknesses. Berta thinks, as the meeting had already decided to win or lose before his own left wing hit the enemy's rightmost wing.

So Berta kept figuring out how to lose while enduring the struggle. There can be no winning. The defeat might have been decided the moment a boy named Marco started talking. No, or more than that for a long time...... I was chilling my heart into despair, but figuring out how to lose. Damage calculations. I had to avoid only that the emperor would be taken to the battlefield, etc.

Berta decided how to lose when the enemy circled to the side of the left wing. Because the way the Royal Army pushed was different from that of semi-sixing. I was pushing too much. That didn't seem to me to trust the new hitting army from the front. Marco, fearful at the rearmost of the oblique, was bewildered because he dropped, but still the more skilled the army hit later... Berta found a gap to follow there.

Berta collapsed the army herself. By defeating the military flag and lowering it once and for all, he intentionally induced the crushing of his allies.

The enemy army, which should also be called the army after having pushed it out as it saw the advantage of its allies, was convinced of the victory there and deviated. I was intoxicated by the pleasure of those who followed me. An disorderly pursuit began. The battlefield was disturbed within an uncut number of Imperial Army troops. It is defeat as a meeting, but it is in the midst of that confusion that a path emerges to miss the emperor's body... that's what Berta thought. He suggested leading a knighthood proud of its elite and retreating all the way under the great banner of Ascension Dragon at once and running to the Plains of Wreck.

The emperor was confused. His presence was shocking to Berta. For her, the Emperor and I have always been a tough force. Its gray hair reminded me of the flash of a white blade, and its glance made me feel the prestige of being a warrior in the past. as if they were all illusions, at which time the emperor was only one old man. The hegemony had been lost.

To be transported to the Kingsguard, the Emperor began to withdraw. Berta and the rest of the Golden Sword Knights were to bump into a mighty enemy to cover it. It is the Knights of the Sword Horn. Because the spear and archery of Nanda were not able to retreat, it became a situation that could be isolated among the enemies. But you can't let them chase you. Berta is ready.

It was the Barcelo Light Cavalry Brigade that came there like a disease. That number, which was once supposed to be five thousand horsemen as a brigade, had been halved at the stage of participating in the meeting, from which it had been further reduced to about one thousand and five hundred horsemen, but it was undoubtedly Brigadier General Terencio Barcelo who was at the forefront and was swinging his spear abruptly.

I didn't have time to exchange words. But the movement conveyed the intention. Barcelona had repeated assaults that he was unwilling to sacrifice to fuel the confusion of his enemies. If you had enemies forming a line that was order, you'd hit them off the edge of your eye. Every time I overlapped that recklessness, dozens of horsemen fell off, but as a team it was strong together, as if one black snake were dancing and crazy on a meadow called the Royal Army.

Weren't you confronted by that fearsome Marco participating “fire” cavalry... Berta could have known the answer right away. A manoeuvring battle was being fought that drew a line with the others in the far opposite direction, because it sprayed blood smoke but overwhelmed the surrounding area with as much harshness as it could.

A cavalry flying only the colored flag of fire was raising the light cavalry in black for a blood festival. There is no Barcelo among them. And the black serpent was divided between a thousand and five hundred horsemen. A thousand and five hundred horsemen, led by Barcelona, were jumping into the fire as dead men to help cover their entire allies...

Yes, that was a dead soldier. Fire is not an enemy that can be fought in a small number, let alone a Barcelo, so there is no way you can win. Where a thousand horsemen used tactics such as high-manoeuvre swirling, separation, assault and detour, all of them were killed without getting through. Enemy awesomeness was also conveyed in the distance. The other black snake looked stuffy and killed in the flames. Death was inevitable, it was just a matter of when.

And with the devotion of two black serpents, Berta was able to take off his dead place. Breathing the time of life given, Berta also allowed the Golden Sword Knights to show their dying power again. He abandoned the option of clustering as an army in a chaotic retreat. I dared to split into several teams and strive to expand the battlefield of defeat. Sometimes they conjugated their allies and let them hit their enemies. Sometimes he leads his allies into enemies. Let him do whatever he can, let him die every time, and Berta will drop it off. It is the last time a general dies.

No one and he died. Berta decides how to die effectively, and his people follow suit. Breathe the time earned that way, there was now. I don't know how far the emperor could have gone, nor do I know Barcelo's life or death. Without knowing everything, I still don't stop breathing. Continue west on the wilderness.

Under a pale sky, with pride and all that hard work, Berta goes to the plains of disaster.

Eventually I saw the terrain I saw. It was first set up by the Royal Army as a relay point on the supply road and then taken and used by the Empire. Temporary strongholds, but hundreds of them have stationed soldiers, and above all supplies. Neither man nor horse can cross the wilderness without food or drink.

That and what I noticed, or those who ran out of the group came out one after the other. Many fall. All his upper body comes forward scratching the universe, and his legs don't follow. Berta signaled the knights to stop the horse walking because he couldn't even get this far and kick it down with his horseshoe. That divided fate.

An arrow flew in.

Not ten or twenty, but a hundred arrows were released from the base direction. Those who ran out are shot one after the other. There was no way to escape or prevent it. There was no way it was a misfire. Berta ordered with a sweeping voice.

"Evacuate! The base is falling into the hands of the Royal Army!

Berta found it hard to believe while saying it. This is also the halfway point of the plain. Of course, the western fortifications were occupied by the Empire until recently. How can such a situation be created at this point now? Berta doesn't know that. I don't know, but I knew that Berta and the others today would not have the power to reclaim their strongholds. It was better than a detour.

And further down, Berta got an answer to the mystery of the stronghold. He joined a group resting in the woods. That was a unit of the Kingsguard.

"Light cavalry wrapped in red cloth," he said?

"Yes. Apparently, there was a force that swept off the southern coastline to the crash plain, pushing through our gap to concentrate on preparing for the meet. I was wary, so I think it's only a few..."

The soldiers of the Kingsguard spoke with remorse. It consists of a platoon. They seem to have failed by attempting to recapture the supply base. At least two squadron-sized Royal Armies were defending them, and they fired arrows scattered with abundant supplies. That sounded like a mystery to Berta.

"A small cavalry has fallen out, and now it's squadron size… is the survival of those who invaded imperial territory!

"Yes. Thank you very much. I was wondering if the red cloth light cavalry was involved."

Berta accidentally looked up to heaven. That was because it showed the existence of an astonishing measure of the enemy.

Earlier meetings were numerically unfavourable to Berta and the other Imperial Army. That difference is over 10,000, and it is not hard to imagine that it would create the option of a separate task force. But it can't be a threat when you turn a few people back who don't even get on the surveillance network. Then what does that mean?

Exactly, for the present situation. Challenge the showdown at the match, retreat from the edge to the plague, or you will always pass through the supply base. Because it's only natural for me to leave on that. The enemy tried to take the lead there.

If the army had retreated, it would have burned down supplies. And if the mutilators come to pieces, as they do now, release the arrows. It was obvious what it meant to do that in a situation where we had already decided to win or lose.

"What about Your Majesty!? Where is Your Majesty...!

"Calm down, General Ignacio. Safe. Safe. Stay hidden somewhere else. But I can't rendezvous now. Not until the sun goes down..."

"... is that a light cavalry"

"Yes. It was just the likes of us who were packing in the base. The light cavalry of red cloth seems to be patrolling widely around its strongholds"

The situation was worse than Berta could have imagined. Enemies that are supposed to follow you only from your back are already ahead of you. Besides, they trap their countrymen wandering the wilderness in coveted places. The place of death was still around, never undressed, etc.

It was night after a time of hunger, fatigue, and fear. Berta and the others rushed through the darkness. Everyone was killing their breath. The horse also bit a sheet made of branches. Traces of hooves were also deluded wherever possible. Maybe now. But I couldn't help but do so. Even slight noise reacted hypersensitively.

In doing so, Berta could not worship the Emperor.

A lonely place called the gap in the rocks... the old man with the gray hair gray beard was taking his breath away.

Is the cause of death dead? He looked too weak for Berta to think that aggressively. It was like some kind of loose shell. It makes sense to die and your soul falls out, but before you die, you lost something you couldn't change... Berta couldn't help but think so.

"The arrival of General Ignacio on this occasion may be a miracle that His Majesty carried out at his last command… I have your word"

A soldier in uniform approached me and began to talk about something more vividly. Berta was just stunned to hear it. I was listening. The samurai also seemed to have spoken it over and over again. And it came to pass, and it came to pass, and I knew that I would not die.

Berta will abandon her old mission here and live a new one.

Because the emperor will fall into the plain, but the empire is still there, and it is not over.