Trinitas Mundus - The Story of Saint Knight Ray

When the Stellas of the Surprise Squad were fighting the Orcs to death, the entrance to the narrow road where the Rays were was creepingly quiet.

All I hear is the moaning of the oak hanging from death and the roaring of the oak barking in the distance, and the stiff sound of something rolling that I hear from time to time, making two days of battle seem like a lie.

Hamish had occasionally checked on the battlefield as he took his nap.

(I don't have the appearance of setting it up for three hours already. Maybe Al's arrow killed the enemy commander. If you rest now, there's still a chance...)

Ray had a short time of three hours, but he was able to sleep well and restored his magic quite a bit.

Waking up, he worried if he should be intimidated by the magic of the fireworks, but the battlefield quieted back and Hamish instructed him not to need it, so he used his magic to treat the injured.

Nearly half of the advance party had already been injured.

Naturally, Ray can't be treated alone. For this reason, he was contemplating treating him from the seriously injured involved in life and death.

And then approach one of the seriously wounded in the Mercenary Corps of Markat in an attempt to hang a healing magic. The mercenary was escorted to his right leg and further broken ribs, coughing up occasional bitterness and spitting blood.

"I'll hang the healing magic now. Take it easy."

When Ray says so, the mercenary shakes his neck sideways in agony and refuses to be treated.

"Rather than heal me, heal him who can return to the battlefield... gebo... we still need to fight for two days... gobo... shouldn't we?... then use your magic to restore a little power... gobble"

He is stunned by the words spoken in their interruption and unable to move.

"Oh dear, you're not dead yet... when reinforcements come, treat me first then. So get the other guy..."

When I opened my thin eyes and said that, I lost my mind as if I had done everything I could.

(Sure, but this is all I'm suffering from... let's just treat it a little and go around to the others. I guess the Kings don't know these people are protecting their country...)

As Ray was told, priority will be given to treating soldiers with broken arms and legs who are likely to be able to return soon.

In my heart I want to help my fellow suffering quickly, but if I was broken through here, I would have no time to let the injured get away with it, I ghosted my mind and prioritized restoring my strength.

Then again, the magic runs out, falling back.

Ashley was watching the whole thing.

(I guess it's hard on Ray. From a peaceful country, yes, I guess this is hell for those who come from a peaceful country that only dies from illness or accidents by accident. I tolerate it well now, but can I stay the same after it's over?

And then I sit beside him and gently stroke his hair.

(I like you sweet. But you could change in this fight... and still, I want you to live. Please, make an effort to live...)

The Demon Army general, Yurki Bindler, continued to take command by pushing the injury he sustained on his shoulder.

"Don't let the assassin go home alive! The front line just needs to see the enemy's trends. The rest of you, solidify around us!

He bit at his passive measures and was desperate to think whether there were any effective measures or in the awareness that he was about to fly in pain.

(In the morning, you'll win the same battle as yesterday. No, I might be restoring my strength for the minute I've given them a break. Even if we go into the dark clouds, they will cut off this one's power... if this one is holding hands, the knights who fled may return)

And I was either looking for help from the Winged Demons, the Great Ghosts, or I was lost.

(I've already stalled here for two days. It's time for Lord Asla - Asla Volti, the Winged Demon Spellman - and Lord Balthazar - Balthazar Owomoela, the Great Ghost Operator (Tamer) - to come and see how things are going here. Do you have to bow your head... if we have a flying tool...)

He dropped his gaze at his feet. At the end of that gaze was a cornered stone covering the ground around here.

(stone or... in clumsy oaks, is it hard to use... yeah? The enemy's arrows must have been exhausted. If you get close enough to hit them with a stick, even the stones thrown by the orcs can do damage. If you keep throwing around...... your enemy's shield should be pretty damaged too. Want to bet on this......)

He calls his men Tamers and gives them instructions to collect affordable stones.

(Fortunately, the stones are rotten enough. If you keep it collected at some point during the night, you'll be able to keep throwing it until around noon. Where the enemy has taken damage, it storms. If we can't win this, let's ask both of you for assistance this evening...)

He lay down on a simple sleeping table after giving the necessary instructions.

Oct. 8, 6 a.m.

The Crusaders advance team had a second morning.

The surroundings are surrounded by morning mist, sight blocked, and silence dominates the meadows.

There have been no enemy attacks since the Alberic and other raids last night, and the advance party has been able to get enough rest for the first time in a long time.

There has also been a restoration of the magic of the healers, and the number of wounded, which was up to eighty, has been reduced to about thirty.

The damage to the advance party was forty-two dead, thirty-three seriously wounded, with the exception of Alberic and others, who have not yet returned, and whose strength had declined to two-thirds compared to the time of October 6 when they reached this location.

Moreover, the arrows are almost bottomed, and the archers hold the sword.

Only thirty more spears of the main force were left, and by the time the next attack was over, it had been reduced to the point where it would not have reached all the battle lines.

Hamish Markat, the commander of the proselytizing army, could not believe that he was greeted with a third morning.

(I guess last night's ambush worked, but I didn't think I'd be able to get a second morning. But the allies will only come after noon tomorrow. We still have to keep fighting for more than a day...)

Ashley speaks to him. When Hamish turned around, he had a simple meal with a soup made of dried meat with solid bread.

"It's for your father. Everyone has already eaten. Enemy surveillance is mine, so take your time."

She smiles, then moves to a place where she can see the battlefield.

(You've grown up, too, Ash. I regret it, but I guess it's because of Ray. Abby, Ash can make you independent anymore...)

Hamish, thinking of the face of his late wife, dragged the meal in.

7: 00 am.

The orcs march slowly through the fog.

For its part, the Crusaders advance party, as it did yesterday, sets up swords and spears and begins to prepare to intercept them.

Hamish Markat, commander of the advance squad Prostitute Army, was uncomfortable with the approaching oak figure.

(Not even yesterday. What's the difference?

And when it becomes clear what the orcs look like, I realize they don't have a stick and have it to hold a big stone.

(What are you gonna do? Stone throwing... awkward. We don't have arrows anymore. The other side is going to use infinitely replenishable stone as a weapon... we just have to prevent it with a shield...)

"The enemy's gonna throw a stone at us! Lower the wounded back! All those with shields, turn to the avant-garde!

Hamish gives instructions aloud, but the mercenaries got confused by unexpected enemy movements.

The captains' instructions fly around, but the confusion that arose on the narrow narrow path did not easily subside.

Ray wonders if there's any way to deal with this situation, but I can't think of a good idea.

(What can I do? The stone the enemy has is about a man's head with a big one. If hundreds of stones fly in, as you would receive with a shield, they will break quickly. Even if we hang the slaughter, we have to break through the rain of stone rubble...... do we have to back off now?

Hundreds of orcs approach the advance party to surround them from the three sides.

The distance to the avant-garde was about ten meters and all the oak legs stopped.

For a moment the orcs began to throw stones in a clumsy setting, either under the instructions of a manipulator (Tamer) or with a growl.

Various stones, large and small, go towards the advance party.

The speeds were decent, going in front or flying in the direction of the day after tomorrow, and more than half did not reach the advance party, but still nearly two hundred stones were pouring down on the soldiers.

Soldiers intercepting in dense formation heard the sound of guns striking stones on wooden boards on the battlefield in order to receive stones with a erected shield.

The soldiers take most of the stones with their shields, but still some slip through their shields and hit their allies.

Hal Rankle of the Markat Mercenary Regiment 5th Squad was blocking the stones with a worn out shield.

(Not as tight as an oak stick, but it's pretty tight. Plus it's not just before, it's flying from side to side... and if it doesn't hit my head, I won't get hurt, but I wonder how long my shield will last?... Ugh, awkward. The shield is cracking...... if the shield breaks......)

Shortly afterwards, part of his shield breaks, the metal clasp comes off and becomes useless.

Still, Hal was shaking the wreckage of his shield on his head and preventing flying stones.

Hamish was wondering, to the sight, whether he should retreat inside the narrow road.

(If you escape into the narrow road, you can shield a large rock. If you come near me, I can slaughter you, but this is where you come in, and I'll turn this place over. Is there any good wisdom...)

At the end of the first wave of stone throwing, the damage to the advance party becomes apparent.

It was the war dead who didn't let them out, but more than ten shields were destroyed, and more bruised, fractured people continued to suffer.

After withdrawing the wounded, Hamish also decided to defend himself here.

"Valeria! Command the transport of the wounded! Gareth! Zenga! Elias! We're gonna keep this place alive!

In his cry, the captains said, "Ooh!" "I respond.

Besides his own men, Valeria Harvey, captain of the Fifth Corps, had commanded the gathering of young knights and mercenaries to carry the wounded backwards.

"In the meantime, we're going down over a hundred meters! No need to rush, but hurry! Carry the wounded in pairs!

With her orders and the face-to-face instructions of Squad Five, the more than thirty seriously wounded are transported back smoothly.

(How far down should I go? I'd rather carry him to the village of Millis... but then it's less than half here...)

You felt her distress, Hamish gave you an order.

"Let the wounded retreat out of the reach of the stone! Ray, do you have any good wisdom?

Ray had desperately turned his thoughts around before the words hung.

(I've thrown stones at you, but if you don't even get confused, you won't take a lot of damage. The only problem is that the shield is broken...)

He thought the enemy's stone-throwing power was smaller than he thought.

(If you take it with a shield, it breaks with a shock... why don't you just absorb the shock? If you cover the surface of the shield with a cloak or a blanket or something......)

"Please cover the surface of the shield with a cape or a blanket! Create a cushion on the surface of the shield!

The prostitutes didn't know Ray's intentions and were confused. But Hamish, the commander, was immediately aware of the intention and ordered his men to execute it.

"Do as Ray says! Somewhat broken shields should be reinforced in the same way! You can still use it enough!

The second formation of orcs is approaching.

Valeria's struggle had lowered the wounded to the rear and further reinforcement of the shield was incomplete, but for now it was complete.

"Okay, the wounded have fallen back. When the stone flies, calm down and take it with your shield! Don't let him get behind you!

As if Hamish's voice had signaled, a rain of stone-throwing falls from his enemies. The swordsmiths with reinforced shields were relieved that the impact was far less than last time, restoring calm.

When the second wave of stone throwing stops, Hamish strikes the orcs as if to clear their depression.

"The enemy is unarmed! All those who can come forward, join the attack! All right, knock him off!

Gareth, captain of the most squad, and Zenga, captain of the second squad, respond to that voice and hang the chase on the falling oak.

Ray and Ashley both survived a dirt base made of oak corpses and chased them to the oaks.

Tamers of the Middle-Ghost tribe, who did not expect to be backfired, sometimes find themselves far apart, unable to give precise instructions.

Some of the orcs on the front line confronted each other with bare hands as to whether they would be unilaterally killed, but the prostitutes, led by Hamish himself, were strong and retreated with much damage.

Yurki Bindler, general of the Middle-Ghost tribe, staring from afar at the state of the matter, was beginning to think of defeat in an overly quick response, albeit as expected.

(Is the enemy still responding quickly? But it keeps pushing me back. Shame on you, Lord Asura, do you have to ask Lord Balthazar for reinforcements...)

Oct. 8 at 8 a.m.

On the Devil's side, Yurki Bindler requested support from the Winged Devils, the Great Ghosts, who would fight at Fort Chulock, twenty km away.