Thus, the expeditionary force of Mongol lost track of time in the midst of several great battles.
The Semites, as always, using their quickness and agility and the advantage of their native land as their greatest weapons, always pressed forward as the aggressor in the war despite their actual disadvantage in numbers.
If it had been the same Gauls, or at least one of the same Middle Kingdoms, the valiant Mongol army would not have been so dazzled. The cultures of Argos, Cheironia, and Paro, despite some latecomer characteristics, are at first united, and the development of the cultures is generally similar, although the northern ones have the characteristics of the north and the steppe ones of the steppe.
But Shem - as far as I could see, this other person was a completely prehuman, a hairy, tailed ape who squeaked, gnashed his teeth and jumped at me.
Even if you think so in your mind, it is difficult to be convinced when you see the monkey in front of you.
Even at this time, they tended to have a secret resentment that they could not fight a proper battle against a "mere monkey", and this made the knights of Mongol feel uninspired.
But at any rate, an enemy is an enemy, and war is war.
In the midst of the white and flat desert of Nosferus, two armies, like huge black blotches or crawling amoebas, were clashing and jostling, jostling and killing each other.
On the horizon in the far - really far - north, you can see a line of white mountain heads like a distant mirage. Those are the mountains of the north, the massifs of Asgarn covered with eternal ice and snow, and to the east, like a black streak, is the legendary Canaan.
But rather, the fact that the mountains to the east and north of them seemed to be so close together, separating the two horizons, was in itself an indication of the tremendous gentleness of Nosferus. It was nothing less than an indication of the remoteness of the desert, with nothing to obstruct its view until it reached each end.
Only a few boulders in the vicinity of the "anvil of the devil," where they had passed, and a chain of rocky mountains in the northeast, which sheltered the Semitic villages, added to this immense sea of sand.
It was a view that was enough to make a man's heart - a man who had come from the rich and verdant midlands - grieve and mourn. The cruelty of it, the inorganic feeling of it, the harshness of it--there was something in it that was essentially inhuman, something that prevented people from being human.
The Semites, as they had done twice last night, withdrew as soon as they saw that their attack had produced some results. This time, the Mongol army, which had been so anxious to catch up with and defeat the insufferable monkeys so that they would never again be threatened by this nerve-wracking surprise attack, was once again disheartened by the suddenness of the withdrawal.
"After them! After them!"
"The enemy is on the move. Let's go after them."
Some of them were brave enough to hit the saddle pots,
"Don't go any further. Dispatch, dispatch."
"Regroup and be ready to attack the enemy and give the order to advance."
A messenger with a fluttering white cloth on his shoulders came round and delivered the words of the princess, which also ceased.
"That's not good."
The old Count Mars, who was leading the blue knight group, suddenly seemed to be caught up in some kind of concern.
He frowned his whitened eyebrows, raised his headpiece cheeks, and muttered in a thoughtful manner. The only one who heard his low murmur was his second-in-command, Garance, who was right beside him.
"What is it, sir?"
I'll ask him back in surprise.
"Did he say anything to you?
"No--"
Count Malus frowned even more.
"The enemy has been defeated, and it seems to me that things are going well, for the most part."
and Garance .
"Does it look that way? But you're not. I know."
Count Mars said lowly, not to Garance.
"I don't like the way this is going. There's not much damage to be done at once, and somehow we've grown so used to Shem's latest surprise attack that we're beginning to think he'll just pull out. I don't like that very much."
"So, shall we?"
"Hmm... I can't help feeling that way. But the fact is, we're at the mercy of the Shemites. They come at us when they want to and pull us away when they want to... and all we do is rush to take up arms and drive them away. In other words, we are always on the back foot, always on the receiving end.
"Haha ..."
"In war, no matter what, it's always better to take the lead than to fall behind-- whether you're outnumbered or outgunned. Garance, remember this. When the war is long, who will fall first depends on how long either side can keep their soldiers thinking that they are attacking and the other side is defending. It does not depend on the number of men or the geographical advantage."
"Huh."
"Well - this is something that I should have kept in mind."
Count Mars glanced towards the main camp, which was guarded by the White Guard.
"After all, the princess is young. That's another thing the soldiers can't hear. But you are young and despite your nickname of Ice, you are still too bloodthirsty. It is difficult for you to understand the subtleties of such wars. And that is why you must listen to me and Gayus more."
"..."
"Well, there's no point in talking about it here. But you're right, I don't like the way this market is going."
"Sir. If you're so worried, what do you say? Why don't you tell Her Highness and advise her to go on the offensive and hunt down those Semites. We're actually itching to do just that."
"Hmm."
Count Mars pondered for a moment.
But soon, his face became somewhat radiant,
"That's true, too. That's a good point, Garance."
With a smile, he nodded to the old lieutenant.
"Which, now that the Shemites won't be coming for a while..."
He lightly spurred his beloved horse and was just about to break ranks when he was spurred on.
"What is it? Something urgent?
He turned at the sound of Garance's voice. There was a tall blue knight with a helmeted cheek approaching, trying to calm horse.
"Huh, that's it."
"Here, no matter how expeditionary and rude you are, you should at least be polite enough to declare yourself."
"I'm sorry, sir. I'm Erl of Argon Squadron."
"That Erl of Argon Company, what?"
"With all due respect, sir, the battalion commander..."
"The Count is busy. I'll take care of it. You can tell me."
"No, it's just, um..."
"What do you mean? I'm your second-in-command and you can't tell me what to do?"
"No, wait, Garance."
The Count of Mars squeezed the reins and turned his horse, which had once been heading for the main camp, and rode back.
"Let's hear it. Yes."
"I'll pay the man..."
"We're in the middle of a war. Speak only to me and my lieutenant in a voice we can hear."
"Okay, sir."
It was the youthful voice of Er of Argon's company that made Count Mars want to bring back the horse.
As a battalion commander in charge of a castle, he has a certain amount of pride in the way he looks at people. The voice of Er of the Argon Company, though youthful and childish, had a certain fearlessness and power that touched the heart of this stubborn old soldier.
Elle peered through the depths of her cheeks into the faces of Count Mars and Garance.
"Here. Raise your cheek, rude man."
"Huh."
Reluctantly, Elle raised her head. Oh, Count Mars thought, and then smiled as he realized why he had thought that. His slightly longer, but lean and youthful face resembled that of Astorias, the Red Knight Captain.
His dark, lively, mischievous eyes stared back at Count Mars unabashedly. He was much younger than his voice had led me to believe.
"What, El?"
"Well, I'm sorry if I'm wrong about you."
"I don't want to hear it."
Garance said irritably. Elle quickly glanced left and right to make sure no one was looking at her.
"You see, I think that I .... I think that you may know the identity of that leopard-headed monster, that man."
"What?"
Count Mars's voice was so loud that the blue knights around him turned their heads.
But when he saw Garance wave, he went back to it. Wait for it,
"Fact or fiction, El."
"Of course, I didn't get a chance to see what he looked like under that mask. ..."
"Of course. Then what?"
"It's just that--in the battle since yesterday, in that man's chest, this--"
Elle raised her hand and drew an X-shaped line in the air.
"I saw these scars."
"Mmm-- might have been. That man was naked. Did you recognize that scar?"
"I think you saw where it went on."
"Hold on."
Count Mars looked sternly at him.
"Perhaps it would be better if I said that in front of Her Highness."
"Yes, no."
Elle stuttered,
"As I said before, all I can say is that I'm sure, but if you ask me if I'm sure, I'm in trouble."
"Hmm, but even so, it's far better than not knowing. Let's start from the beginning and see what happens."
The Count was completely intrigued. He glanced around, but there was no sign of a signal to start the march.
"If you're telling the truth, that's great information. Come here. Come down from your horse and tell me every detail. There's still time for you to leave."
"With all due respect, if I'm wrong about this, it's a serious matter. Just in case, can you promise to keep this to yourself and your deputy until the leopard's face is confirmed?"
Elle said, her dark eyes twinkling.
"The way you're talking to me..."
But Count Mars was rather amused by the young man and stopped him with a wave of his hand.
"I don't care. Compared to today's soft young men, rude is more spirited. Come on, El, let's talk."
"Huh, so ..."
Elle followed the Count's invitation and sat down next to him.
"I was born in Galicia, climbed the Torus in my sixteenth year, and have been inducted into the Order of Mongol ever since."
Elle began to speak.
"Naturally, I'm not a military knight, but a professional soldier, so I've received swords from Mister Tag of the Red Order, Mister Romain of the Black Order, and others, and have fought here and there before being formed into this frontier guard.
It was, I believe, when I, under the command of Captain Tug, went to Rouen, the capital of Kumu, to guard the ambassador. As soon as the ambassador, a certain Marquis, arrived, he immediately went to the Water Palace, the official residence of the Grand Duke of Talio, and we, the guards, were told that we were free for the time being, except for the team on duty that day.
As you know, Rouen, the capital of Kumu, is an extremely beautiful and rich city, which is called the city of water, along with Thais, the Queen of Beauty, in the west. We went there, one by one, to take a rest, to buy women, to drink wine, to go to a shooting range, and so on, with our hearts full of plans.
I was accompanied by a few of my good friends. As we walked along the street, which was more like a bridge over a moat than a street, we suddenly heard a great cheer from the other side.
I thought it was a quarrel, but it seemed to me that the voice was more like a shout than a clamor. The reason for the commotion soon became clear to me. There was no doubt in the noise, "Gandalf! Gandar! Gandalf!" was heard, and immediately it became "Gandalf! Gandalf! Gandalf!" and it spread into a huge cheer.
"Hey, I hear Gandalf's coming.