Mongol's army continued to pursue.
By this time the sun was high in the centre, and the white light and the white grey of the wilderness were on the rise, and the shadows of the knights were long behind them as they rode in disordered ranks. The battle with the Semites seemed to have been going on for a long time, but in reality it was but a short affair of no more than a single day.
"After--after!"
"Don't let him get away!"
The captains in the lead were shouting in their mouths, choking up.
Guin and the thousand or so Shem of the SS, who were running vaguely ahead of them, only half a tad, like a mirage of the desert, were
It was a scene like a legend that evoked a strange illusion and left a strange impression on my heart.
It was a backdrop - the desolate and barren Nosferus - that was uniquely suited and strangely mythical.
Guin kicked at the belly of the huge black horse he rode, but kept the reins tight, taking care not to pull away from the Sheba and the others running behind him on their short legs. His blood-red body glows red in the intense sunlight of the midday sun in Nosferus.
"You all right, Sheba?
"Yes, Liard, everyone!"
Behind you,
"Stop, stop!"
"I won't let you go!"
"After them, after them!
The shouting of Mongol's army rises up against them on the wind.
"Okay... we're at the first point, Sheba."
"Yes, Liard."
"All right. We're gonna get through this."
"Yes!"
Sheba, while running, put his hand into the bag at his waist and took out some round nuts.
Hold it above your head, hold your nose and mouth with your other hand, keep your eyes tightly closed, and crush the black fruit with a single effort.
As soon as the fruit cracked with a crisp sound, the juice gushed out from it in a surprisingly abundant quantity, soaking his head, shoulders and chest.
Without thinking, Shiva let out an oooh and aaah. The juice emitted a suffocating smell of ammonia so strong that it seemed to reach as far as a mile away.
The young men of Shem who followed Sheba did the same, baptizing themselves with the juice while choking and coughing.
Immediately, they became a strange group of people, gurgling, choking and weeping at the strange smell they were emitting.
In the meantime, they did not slacken their pace, and the area, which was still the same desert of Nosferus, began to change somewhat.
"We're about to enter the Devil's Iron Curtain, Liard."
Shiva screams, choking on his own stinging ammonia smell.
"All right. Let's go, heroes of Shem!"
Guin barked.
In a flash, he raises his whip and strikes the horse with a hard blow. The horse seemed to be reluctant to scratch its feet at the strange odor, but the abuse frightened it, and it began to run at full speed again with its tired body. Shiba and the others followed suit.
Suddenly, the surrounding desert was boiling!
No--no, it wasn't.
Oh, it was a horrible, enormous horde of Id that filled the whole area!
The area is a relatively flat desert called "Oni no Tekkana Tokoto" (the floor of the demon's iron), which is white and hard, baked by the sun and hot in the daytime and chilled at night by the hard sand that goes on forever.
There, the transparent and stubby idols were dyed white like the color of the surrounding sand, as if they didn't even exist, and they lay still under the hot sun.
As soon as Guin's horse and the sheba and others stepped into the midst of them, they all began to stir with color and excitement.
It was a tremendous sight that could freeze the blood of any bold hero in an instant, as if in hell.
All around, as far as the eye can see, is the "anvil of demons" - it is filled with countless idols, as if they had been splashed with a sea of white sores and jelly. waiting for ignorant prey to step into it.
Guin's eyes were bloodshot, the short hairs on the back of his neck were upturned in disgust and horror, and his strong body was goosebumped with an instinctive repulsion and fear that even a warrior as brave as he could not stifle. It's the same for Shiva and the others.
Their faces were gripped with fear, and their mouths were filled with gasps and curses. And when their foul odour, which had been smeared with a juice to ward off the Ids, reached them, the Ids, who had been about to rush towards them in a tumult, fell back in panic, pushing and shoving each other like the waves of a wave, and gave way before their mad rush.
It was like a living sea that split in two before the prophet. But the merciless sun of Nosferus shines upon them, and its rays quickly douse and evaporate the juice of the areca nut, which they bathed in, and which protected them from the id.
Shiva dug his hands into his bag again. With a grimace on his face, he cracks open another areca nut and douses it with its juice.
The one behind him followed suit, and Guin squeezed it in his strong fist to drape it over his horse's leg.
But that is actually the end of it. Once it is drained, they will be left unprotected in the midst of the Sea of Id, awaiting a horrible, horrible death, to say the least.
They felt as if their whole bodies had already been smeared with the sticky texture of the sticky monster, and they ran like hell. The Devil's anvil seemed to go on forever and ever, and even the young Semites, the natural runners of the desert, finally began to breathe heavily.
That's when I saw it.
"Quickly--come here!"
"Liard, be safe!"
It was the women of the Tubai tribe who stood in the midst of the idols, holding long sticks in their hands, beckoning to them and calling out loudly to them, as if it were a shallow, knee-deep sea.
Raising a long, strangely shaped stick in his hand, he poked it at the Ids as if he were stirring a boiling pot, and they made their way to the left and right in a flurry of activity. Guided by this, they crossed the remaining distance in safety, and the women of the Tubai gathered together.
"I did as you asked."
"Is this enough, Laird?"
They crowded around Guin, saying. They were dressed in strange ways.
His feet are wrapped in clumsy wooden shoes that come up to his knees, and he wears a kind of wooden hat on his head. On his head, he wears a kind of wooden hat. From the belt around his waist hang a number of black berries strung with thread, and from his hairy limbs emanate a strong smell of ammonia, and from the cane in his hand it pervades the air.
All of them were wooden shoes, hats, staffs, and belts of areca nut, made of the areca tree.
The Tubai are also known as the Tubai of the Id. The reason why they do not fear the terrible monster of Nosferus, the Id, but rather exert their power over it and manipulate it at will, is that they have cultivated in their territory a colony of areca trees, which the Id loves above all else.
Guin nodded as he stood in the middle of the small Tubai women, looking out over the Sea of Id like a father holding his children close.
"Good. That's good enough--for now."
"I've never collected so many at once. I was afraid there wouldn't be enough Arica nuts."
"There could be half the id in all of Nosferus."
The women of Tubai were as excited as children.
The hordes of Ids that had filled the wide floor of the Demon's anvil were finally exhausted at the break in the Demon's anvil, and beyond the rocky ground, the main body of Shem was already resting its weary body.
"Liard!"
As if waiting for Guin and the others, Roto and the others come running.
"How's that, where I'm from?"
"It's not very big. A thousand is not lost. Six, seven hundred, maybe."
"I'm sure it's more than just what Ohm did to you."
The Glo, Iracheli, said in high spirits, and brandished the stone spear in his hand. Iracelli was struck roughly in the left shoulder by Mongol's sword and sprinkled with many herbs, and was somewhat disheartened, but his spirits did not seem to wane.
"Have you been wounded, Iracelli?"
"It's shallow. Glo doesn't think a scratch like this is a scratch."
"Is there more than half of them intact, Loto?"
Guin told me.
"You're gonna need more.
"That's about right. If we had lost half our strength, the rest would have been too difficult. At any rate, we have three times as many enemies as we do."
He took a sip of water from the bamboo pipe that Shiva held out to him, and wiped his sword and his blood-stained body with a soft moss as he looked over the Semitic army spread out on the rocky ground, as if inspecting it.
The damage done to the Semitic army was not light.
In the first place, they were vastly inferior in size, and there were only a third of them. Although Iracelli said so, there were many Shem who were leaning against the rocks, wounded, and being tended to by their allies.
But their will had not waned. They believed in Guin, and they did not doubt that he was the messenger of God who had come to Nosferus to bring them victory and to save them from the ravages of Mongol. And Guin's oft-repeated words, "We have allies who can more than make up for our inferiority in numbers," were an encouragement to them.
(It's-- it's Nosferatu!)
No one asks why this barren land is so.
"Liard. What do we do now?"
Shiva, who had somehow become Guin's SS chief, leaned in close to him with a worried look on his face.
"Do as you're told."
That's all Guin said, briefly.
"By now, Mongol's pursuers should be approaching the Demon's anvil..."
"Liard!"
A warrior of Shem, who had been watching from a high rock, quickly stumbled down the rock and pointed behind him.
"You're here."
"Hi!"
"All right, tubers!"
"Yes, sir!"
The women of Tubai are in love.
"It's time for us to go."
"Eeeaaah, eeeaaah!"
They came out, shouting with a shrill voice, and stood at a reasonable distance from the edge of the Sea of Id, each one holding one of the unglazed jars that he had prepared in advance,
"Aye, ee, aye!"
With a shout, he threw the contents of the jar at the idlers.
The Great Depression broke out immediately.
The contents of the jar were the squeezed juice of the areca nut that the hornbills keep.
It is the main role of the women of Tubai, called idlers, to squeeze and store them in jars.
It is not that they are trying to tame the Ids for food or that they are useful in any way, it is just that their village was originally located in an area where there were many Ids, and they have inherited a method of preventing damage from the Ids.
The pungent odor of the arica juice, which was sprinkled all over the place, made even Shem and the others sniffle, cough, and rub their eyes.
In addition, the panic of the idols who were suddenly poured with it was tremendous.
The sea of white, fresh jelly, swelling in panic, swelling with the same force as the stormy sea, trying to avoid the smell of it, retreating like a receding tide toward the south of the anvil of the demons. They watched with baited breath.
"--Alfetto!"
Roto murmurs lowly.
Guin, unmoved by the horrific scene, raises her hand and raises it again.
Seeing this, the women of Tubai pulled down before their faces wooden bowl-shaped hats made of hollowed-out areca wood. They tied it to the back of their heads with a string, and it quickly became a wooden mask with small holes at the eyes so that they could see the tips.
The Tubai, who had changed into strange round-faced bats with eyes only, replaced the jar with a new one and left it behind after the Id had retreated, chasing after them as they fled in a whirlwind.
At this point, the Ido's movements quickened to a frightening pace, and as if on fire, they surmounted each other, jostling for the lead - although there was no one in Tubai who could clearly discern which of these monsters was which. They began to run out of control in a panic, trying to escape the unpleasant stench.
Without moving a single eyebrow, Guin watched with his hands on his hips, as if the sea were receding with a sound.
But when he saw that the time was right, he turned around and called out sharply.
"Shiva!"
"Hi, Liard!"
"We'll see what happens next.
"Hi!"
Shiva and several Shem are running out. Behind Guin, who is staring out across the desert as if to time it,
"Well, well, well! Now they've used up all of Arica's fruit for the last two years!"
I could hear the cheerful shouts of the women of Tubai.
On the other hand, Mongol's army is pursuing Guin and his men.
Led by Astorias and Regan, the Red Knights pursued the defeated Shem army as one.
But they were horses, and though their foes were men or walkers, they were not able to close the distance between them and Shem. For the horse's hoofs were not suitable for running on the soft, hot sand, which crumbled under their feet and made their feet sink into the sand, and the weight of the horse was multiplied by the weight of the knights in their heavy armor and headgear, and their feet sank into the sand with every step. The weight of the horse was multiplied by the fact that the knights were fully armed and wearing heavy armor and headgear.
"Hi, hi!"
Every so often they had to gently pull on the reins to keep the horse from lurching forward.
On the other hand, the soft hairy, flat-footed soles of the Semites were most suitable for running on such sandy soil.
And they knew the topography and the course of Nosferus well. No one noticed that they were running in a zigzag pattern, as if they were trying to catch up with their pursuers, but taking care that their pursuers did not lose sight of them in the vast sea of sand, and that they were gradually trying to lure the Mongols into the "anvil of demons".
No-- there was one guy, no.
It was Count Mars, Lord of the Castle of Twolead, who had taken over the rear guard and was leading the infantry with 2,000 blue knights behind him.
His wrinkled face, deep in thought, had been dark ever since Mongol had started to run after him, and his eyes were clouded with a pensive look.
"Sir."
Garance, Malus's right-hand man, a company commander who is as old as the Lord, approaches and peers at him curiously.
"What's the matter with you? What do you think you're doing?"
"Shem, you're running too fast."
Count Mars said in a muffled voice as he drove his horse slowly.
"Or is it too late? --too late to really try to defeat Mongol's army, too fast to really come out to fight. I don't understand. There's too much I don't understand about Shem and his men's behavior on this expedition."
"It's not your imagination, is it?"
"Garance."
Count Mars said sternly.
"It's all right if it's all in your head, but it's not all in your head. I've fought in countless battles, skirmishes and great wars for my country since we were both 15 years old. What I have learned, Garance, is that wars are living things. The war is a living thing. If you don't handle it with care, as you would a beast, mindful of its points, and watch it with all your heart, it will bite you hard. Ixa is an unfriendly beast, Garance, and to deal with it we must have a whip and flesh and bewitch it to bite the enemy and not us. But you don't understand that, Princess."
"..."
"The princess is young. And she's never been defeated before. No trainer has ever been bitten."
Having said this, the Count stopped talking. But after a while, he looked at the white dust on the ground,
"But I don't understand-- I don't understand this."
"What is it, sir?"
"If I knew that, I wouldn't have any trouble. It seems to me that the creature called the war is in a bad mood with us this time.
"How can I help you?"
"What the hell is that?
The white eyebrows of the Count of Mars were furrowed in a warlike expression. He stretched out his hand and pointed to the horizon.
"It is the dust of the testimony of Shem."
"Don't you see, Garance? There's something different about the way the dust is rising... wait!"
The Count clenched his lips and pondered for a while. Then, suddenly, he thumped his saddle and jumped to his feet.
"Ah! I see!"
"It's something, sir."
"This is Nosferus. That's what we've been forgetting - no, Astorias and Regan are in danger."
"What--?"
"Garance! Go. Tell Asturias and Regan to stop. The princess can wait. Just get the whole army to halt. Let's go, now!
"Ha--ha!"
Still not understanding what was going on, Garance took the horse and left the ranks.
"Hey-- hey-- hey-- halt. All troops halt-- halt!"
A few more blue knights are running to stop the Count's order.
"--what?"
What surprised me was Amneris, who was being protected by the White Guard.
"That's the Blue Knight of Mars, isn't it?"
"Yes, sir!"
"Halt"? I'm the commander-in-chief here and Malus is out of his mind. Get Malus in here, now!
This time, Feldrick is running towards the back of the pack.
In the meantime, the desperate Garance was running madly through the sluggish ranks of the soldiers.
"Lord Asturias! Lord Regan! Halt, halt, halt, halt, halt!"
It was Pollack who heard the old blue knight's longing voice.
"Captain."
"Can't you hear something-- right now, someone's on ...?"
"Captain, that's Lord Garance of the Mars Squad!"
"What do you mean, stop? Is that an order from Her Highness?"
Asturias scowls wryly,
"All units, halt!
I raised my voice.
Astrias' team, showing their well-developed training, stopped in place without waiting for a second word.
Regan's troops, on the other hand, would not rest their feet. Garance, running along the outer right side of the long column, kept shouting, "Halt! Garance kept yelling, "Halt! So his shouting was heard by Asturias' troops on the right, but not by Regan's troops on the other side, who were lost in the sound of their own horses' hooves and the clashing of their armor.
"Riggan--Riggan, we're shutting down the entire army."
Asturias saw that his best friend's squad continued to call, and he tried to warn them loudly.
But then!
"What the-- what the hell was that?"
Somebody screamed.
The voice was filled with a strange fear and astonishment. Asturias turned his head in the direction of the voice.
And I froze, aghast!