The sun was intense and the Prince's knights were brave.
Despite being outnumbered at first, they cut down the pagans like reeds.
There was a difference in both quality and armament between the elite knights who had been trained by the royal family for over ten years and the light infantry who had been recruited and sent into battle without any special training.
But in the end, it's human work, and humans get tired. After about an hour, the situation was hopeless.
“Dino—!!”
Alfonso's scream echoed through the air.
The pagan's crescent moon struck Sir Bernardino on the back of the neck.
Sir Bernardino, who was already in a situation where he looked like a whale with barnacles stuck to it with three enemies clinging to him, sank to the ground without a sound.
Alfonso looked around in confusion.
Sir Manfredi, who had been swinging his sword while leading five or six men right nearby, was no longer visible.
The silver armor of their allies was occasionally visible, but most of the vision was filled with the pagan's red belt and dark crescent sword.
He is the only one who can save Dino.
“Ugh—!”
Kachaeng!
The Prince's sword struck the pagan's blade. He struck the two-handed sword with one hand.
While the pagans were distracted, Alfonso's sword aimed for the enemy's torso again.
Phew!
Blood spurted out and the pagan fell, but right behind him, a crescent moon that he had never seen before popped out.
The muscles in his right arm, which he had thrown with all his might, lost their strength. There was no end to it.
Crunch!
The dark blade crashed into Alfonso's torso, and he felt a burning sensation spread across his side as the joints of his armor broke.
Alfonso closed his eyes once and opened them. Considering that he was in the middle of a battlefield, his movements were surprisingly slow.
'...Is this it?'
He had no strength in his hands or feet.
The stress on his muscles built up, and the room suddenly turned off, like water-soaked cotton. His body didn't feel like his own.
Alfonso may have been dreaming all this time.
The days of being born into a happy family with a strong body and living as a Prince of a kingdom under the care of his mother.
Those days when he met the woman he loved, held her hand, and decided to have a child with her.
Now, he is exchanging swords with foreign pagans under the scorching heat of a sun that seems to bake his armor.
He was on the verge of being thrown into an unfamiliar land. An unfamiliar sense of helplessness took over his entire body.
“Your Highness—!!”
A familiar voice came from afar. It was Sir Manfredi. Blood flowed from his forehead and into his eyes without him knowing when he had been injured.
Alfonso blinked a couple of times before he had time to open his helmet and clean it.
Bam!
“Ugh!”
Alfonso heard Sir Manfredi scream. He saw Manfredi collapsing through his blood-stained vision.
His helmet had long since flown away, and his shoulder-length black hair trailed the nape of his collapsing torso.
He's seen it before. When he saved Ariadne from the clutches of the Duke of Mireille, her black hair was flying like that.
Alfonso had to pick up his sword and go save Sir Manfredi, no, his friend Antonio. Alfonso couldn't move.
Then and now, he feels so powerless.
'Daily patience adds up to eternity.'
Prince Alfonso heard a verse from the Book of Proverbs. It was his mother's voice.
'The unbreakable will of man is truly noble.'
His mother had always fought. Even in places he didn't know about, Queen Marguerite fought, spitting blood, to protect her son.
Ariadne's sparkling green eyes also passed through his mind.
Her life was a battle every day, and she emerged victorious in the end.
How dare I boast about protecting those two? How dare I be confident in front of those two?
'You can do it, my son.'
Suddenly, he heard a voice in his ear. Was it a hallucination? Was it his mother coming down to take care of him?
'Trust me.'
“Eee..."
Alfonso mustered the last of his might and swung his sword.
He threw away his shield and held his sword in both hands, one in his hand and the other in his other.
Kakang!
The Black Moon Sword flew into the air before his eyes. Without hesitation, he grabbed the enemy's neck with his bare hands and twisted it.
“Ugh!”
The opponent groaned. Alfonso threw him to the ground with one hand and ran towards Sir Manfredi.
“Antonio—!!”
Behind them, the jubilant shouts of the allies were heard.
“Come, Your Highness!”
Alfonso had no time to reply before he struck down another of the pagans attached to Sir Manfredi.
The shouts of the allies rang out once more.
“Reinforcements are coming!!”
He was a cavalryman mounted on a horse.
Sir Elko was running towards the rocky mountain where the party was holding on, holding the reins with one hand, just behind the vanguard.
It was a small force of about 50 cavalry, but at this moment, it was more powerful than a thousand troops.
“Whoaaaa!”
Alfonso struck another crescent moon blocking his path. Suddenly, his vision brightened.
“How did this happen?”
Inside the tent where the command meeting was being held, Prince Alfonso sat with his eyes tightly shut, his body wrapped in bandages.
The seat next to him was originally supposed to be occupied by Sir Bernardino, but now it was occupied by Sir Manfredi.
Sir Manfredi glared at Sir Albert of Achenbach, the Count of Achenbach who had sent them to the Stone Mountain.
It is hard to imagine a subordinate standing up to a commander who has made strategic decisions, but this situation was special.
The Third Crusade was organized with the Grand Duke of Sternheim, Duke of Juldenberg, as the commander-in-chief, but the troops under his command were gathered one by one from about ten countries.
There was no unified chain of command and everything had to be done by consensus.
“Didn’t you clearly state that it was a rear support mission? That’s why only the appropriate number of personnel were dispatched!”
Sir Manfredi pounded his fist on the small chair he was sitting on.
“The gentleman who should be sitting here is about to die!”
Sir Bernardino was barely rescued from the battlefield in an unconscious state.
He was still suffering from a high fever and was on the verge of death.
“Not only that? Prince Alfonso almost died too! He is the sole legitimate heir to the throne of the Etruscan kingdom! How will you take responsibility if the dynasty is cut off?”
To this, a knight of the County of Achenbach replied curtly.
“In battle, life and death are in the hands of heaven.”
Although the County of Achenbach was a weak state that was closely tied to the Duchy of Sternheim, they sent about 1,000 infantrymen and a few commanders to this crusade.
It was a great sacrifice for them.
The weight of the mission was different from that of the Etruscan kingdom, which sent only about 10 people, mainly the heir to the throne and high-ranking nobles.
“If you were just going to play war with flags, you shouldn’t have volunteered in the first place.”
“What?!”
As Sir Manfredi became angry, one of the knights next to him mounted his horse.
“You seem to be acting high and mighty just because you’ve done well, but you shouldn’t come to the tactical meeting and act like this just because you were lucky.”
“What? We just got lucky?! You guys can win against a 1:10 odds with luck?!”
Sir Manfredi was ready to cause trouble now.
It was only after the battle that they learned that they had fought with only 11 men against a total of 100 enemy soldiers, killing or capturing 60 of them.
Moreover, the commander of the light infantry was the son of a prominent local pagan religious leader.
It's like capturing a prisoner worth quite a bit of money.
“This kid...!”
Prince Alfonso opened his mouth.
“Sir Manfredi. Stop.”
At those words, Sir Manfredi turned around sharply. His expression was aggrieved.
But Prince Alfonso did not call Sir Manfredi to make concessions.
“He is right. You have to risk your life when you go to war.”
He glared at the commander of the County of Achenbach with fire in his blue eyes.
“I will not spare myself from now on. Please deploy me to the front. I refuse to be in the rear guard.”
“But the condition of your weapons is too bad to be deployed in the front line...”
A silent cavalry force of about ten men. It was quite a difficult force to deploy forward.
“I demand my fair share of the ransom for this prisoner. I will provide my weapons.”
This time, a Baron dispatched from the Birkenbaum estate stepped forward to stop them.
“How selfish of you! Do you know how much the Allied Forces have supported you for free so far?”
The Allied forces divided the local spoils among themselves according to their contribution.
But now that Prince Alfonso and his party have been indebted to him, he is asking them to yield their due.
It was a statement that could come out because the structure was such that the more the person next to him took, the more he took.
“If you’ve been getting free meals all this time, you should be grateful...!”
Anger flashed across Prince Alfonso's face. He leaped to his feet.
Bam!
The chair the Prince was sitting on fell over and he rolled around inside the tent.
Only then did the Grand Duke of Yuldenburg, who had been watching the situation, open his mouth.
“Everyone has a point.”
He sorted out the situation.
“Prince Alfonso, please calm down. Even though Sir Albrecht divided up the tasks, it was ultimately my decision as Commander-in-Chief to assign your men to this mission.”
He looked at Sir Manfredi with deep eyes.
“I hope you will follow the headquarters’ instructions.”
Sir Manfredi lowered his head, speechless.
Prince Alfonso also immediately grabbed the commander of Birkenbaum by the collar and tried to drag him out.
“And everyone in this tent.”
He looked around the room with thoughtful gray eyes.
“Do not diminish the great merit of the Etruscan friends in this battle.”
Someone again spoke up in a disgruntled voice.
“How much is the ransom for capturing one prisoner that you sell it so cheaply?”
It's a captive worth about 30 ducats. If it's a lot, it's a lot, if it's a little, it's a little.
“It’s not about the loot.”
The Grand Duke of Yuldenberg answered calmly.
“That unit was on its way to burn the village that helped us in the rear. Ransom is one thing, but Prince Alfonso and the Etruscan army saved many people. Do not forget the purpose of this expedition.”
Holy War. A pilgrimage war in which faithful servants of the Gods volunteer to go to the holy land to glorify the name of the Gods and reclaim the holy land of Yesak.
“If we fail to win the hearts of the local people, even if we conquer the walls of Yesak, it will only be a temporary victory. We must influence the local people.”
Although the impudent gaze did not subside all at once, the voices of protest died down.
The Grand Duke of Yuldenburg took advantage of the situation to settle the financial issue at once.
“Let the distribution of spoils be done according to the principles.”
Alfonso gave the Grand Duke of Yuldenburg a brief bow as a gesture of gratitude, but he wanted more.
“I will abide by the judgment of His Excellency the Commander-in-Chief. However, my desire to be at the forefront in the next battle remains unchanged.”
“We will take it into consideration when deploying. Please let us know if the armament improves.”
Prince Alfonso's military exploits of stopping a single company with a handful of troops and achieving victory could only be described as brilliant.
Although small in scale, it was an achievement of such quality that it was not easily achieved.
That was the end of the strategy meeting that day. It was an awkward but refreshing day at the same time.
After the meeting was over, on the way back to their respective quarters in the camp, the eyes of the knights and common soldiers who were unable to participate in the strategy meeting were focused on Alfonso and his party.
Some people looked at him with curiosity, some with admiration, and some looked down on him.
“Your Highness, don’t you think the way they look at us is a little different?”
Sir Manfredi asked, his voice cracking. Prince Alfonso answered lazily, running his hand through his blood-stained blond hair.
“To this extent already.”
The Prince saw a much bigger future.
Despite being outnumbered at first, they cut down the pagans like reeds.
There was a difference in both quality and armament between the elite knights who had been trained by the royal family for over ten years and the light infantry who had been recruited and sent into battle without any special training.
But in the end, it's human work, and humans get tired. After about an hour, the situation was hopeless.
“Dino—!!”
Alfonso's scream echoed through the air.
The pagan's crescent moon struck Sir Bernardino on the back of the neck.
Sir Bernardino, who was already in a situation where he looked like a whale with barnacles stuck to it with three enemies clinging to him, sank to the ground without a sound.
Alfonso looked around in confusion.
Sir Manfredi, who had been swinging his sword while leading five or six men right nearby, was no longer visible.
The silver armor of their allies was occasionally visible, but most of the vision was filled with the pagan's red belt and dark crescent sword.
He is the only one who can save Dino.
“Ugh—!”
Kachaeng!
The Prince's sword struck the pagan's blade. He struck the two-handed sword with one hand.
While the pagans were distracted, Alfonso's sword aimed for the enemy's torso again.
Phew!
Blood spurted out and the pagan fell, but right behind him, a crescent moon that he had never seen before popped out.
The muscles in his right arm, which he had thrown with all his might, lost their strength. There was no end to it.
Crunch!
The dark blade crashed into Alfonso's torso, and he felt a burning sensation spread across his side as the joints of his armor broke.
Alfonso closed his eyes once and opened them. Considering that he was in the middle of a battlefield, his movements were surprisingly slow.
'...Is this it?'
He had no strength in his hands or feet.
The stress on his muscles built up, and the room suddenly turned off, like water-soaked cotton. His body didn't feel like his own.
Alfonso may have been dreaming all this time.
The days of being born into a happy family with a strong body and living as a Prince of a kingdom under the care of his mother.
Those days when he met the woman he loved, held her hand, and decided to have a child with her.
Now, he is exchanging swords with foreign pagans under the scorching heat of a sun that seems to bake his armor.
He was on the verge of being thrown into an unfamiliar land. An unfamiliar sense of helplessness took over his entire body.
“Your Highness—!!”
A familiar voice came from afar. It was Sir Manfredi. Blood flowed from his forehead and into his eyes without him knowing when he had been injured.
Alfonso blinked a couple of times before he had time to open his helmet and clean it.
Bam!
“Ugh!”
Alfonso heard Sir Manfredi scream. He saw Manfredi collapsing through his blood-stained vision.
His helmet had long since flown away, and his shoulder-length black hair trailed the nape of his collapsing torso.
He's seen it before. When he saved Ariadne from the clutches of the Duke of Mireille, her black hair was flying like that.
Alfonso had to pick up his sword and go save Sir Manfredi, no, his friend Antonio. Alfonso couldn't move.
Then and now, he feels so powerless.
'Daily patience adds up to eternity.'
Prince Alfonso heard a verse from the Book of Proverbs. It was his mother's voice.
'The unbreakable will of man is truly noble.'
His mother had always fought. Even in places he didn't know about, Queen Marguerite fought, spitting blood, to protect her son.
Ariadne's sparkling green eyes also passed through his mind.
Her life was a battle every day, and she emerged victorious in the end.
How dare I boast about protecting those two? How dare I be confident in front of those two?
'You can do it, my son.'
Suddenly, he heard a voice in his ear. Was it a hallucination? Was it his mother coming down to take care of him?
'Trust me.'
“Eee..."
Alfonso mustered the last of his might and swung his sword.
He threw away his shield and held his sword in both hands, one in his hand and the other in his other.
Kakang!
The Black Moon Sword flew into the air before his eyes. Without hesitation, he grabbed the enemy's neck with his bare hands and twisted it.
“Ugh!”
The opponent groaned. Alfonso threw him to the ground with one hand and ran towards Sir Manfredi.
“Antonio—!!”
Behind them, the jubilant shouts of the allies were heard.
“Come, Your Highness!”
Alfonso had no time to reply before he struck down another of the pagans attached to Sir Manfredi.
The shouts of the allies rang out once more.
“Reinforcements are coming!!”
He was a cavalryman mounted on a horse.
Sir Elko was running towards the rocky mountain where the party was holding on, holding the reins with one hand, just behind the vanguard.
It was a small force of about 50 cavalry, but at this moment, it was more powerful than a thousand troops.
“Whoaaaa!”
Alfonso struck another crescent moon blocking his path. Suddenly, his vision brightened.
***
“How did this happen?”
Inside the tent where the command meeting was being held, Prince Alfonso sat with his eyes tightly shut, his body wrapped in bandages.
The seat next to him was originally supposed to be occupied by Sir Bernardino, but now it was occupied by Sir Manfredi.
Sir Manfredi glared at Sir Albert of Achenbach, the Count of Achenbach who had sent them to the Stone Mountain.
It is hard to imagine a subordinate standing up to a commander who has made strategic decisions, but this situation was special.
The Third Crusade was organized with the Grand Duke of Sternheim, Duke of Juldenberg, as the commander-in-chief, but the troops under his command were gathered one by one from about ten countries.
There was no unified chain of command and everything had to be done by consensus.
“Didn’t you clearly state that it was a rear support mission? That’s why only the appropriate number of personnel were dispatched!”
Sir Manfredi pounded his fist on the small chair he was sitting on.
“The gentleman who should be sitting here is about to die!”
Sir Bernardino was barely rescued from the battlefield in an unconscious state.
He was still suffering from a high fever and was on the verge of death.
“Not only that? Prince Alfonso almost died too! He is the sole legitimate heir to the throne of the Etruscan kingdom! How will you take responsibility if the dynasty is cut off?”
To this, a knight of the County of Achenbach replied curtly.
“In battle, life and death are in the hands of heaven.”
Although the County of Achenbach was a weak state that was closely tied to the Duchy of Sternheim, they sent about 1,000 infantrymen and a few commanders to this crusade.
It was a great sacrifice for them.
The weight of the mission was different from that of the Etruscan kingdom, which sent only about 10 people, mainly the heir to the throne and high-ranking nobles.
“If you were just going to play war with flags, you shouldn’t have volunteered in the first place.”
“What?!”
As Sir Manfredi became angry, one of the knights next to him mounted his horse.
“You seem to be acting high and mighty just because you’ve done well, but you shouldn’t come to the tactical meeting and act like this just because you were lucky.”
“What? We just got lucky?! You guys can win against a 1:10 odds with luck?!”
Sir Manfredi was ready to cause trouble now.
It was only after the battle that they learned that they had fought with only 11 men against a total of 100 enemy soldiers, killing or capturing 60 of them.
Moreover, the commander of the light infantry was the son of a prominent local pagan religious leader.
It's like capturing a prisoner worth quite a bit of money.
“This kid...!”
Prince Alfonso opened his mouth.
“Sir Manfredi. Stop.”
At those words, Sir Manfredi turned around sharply. His expression was aggrieved.
But Prince Alfonso did not call Sir Manfredi to make concessions.
“He is right. You have to risk your life when you go to war.”
He glared at the commander of the County of Achenbach with fire in his blue eyes.
“I will not spare myself from now on. Please deploy me to the front. I refuse to be in the rear guard.”
“But the condition of your weapons is too bad to be deployed in the front line...”
A silent cavalry force of about ten men. It was quite a difficult force to deploy forward.
“I demand my fair share of the ransom for this prisoner. I will provide my weapons.”
This time, a Baron dispatched from the Birkenbaum estate stepped forward to stop them.
“How selfish of you! Do you know how much the Allied Forces have supported you for free so far?”
The Allied forces divided the local spoils among themselves according to their contribution.
But now that Prince Alfonso and his party have been indebted to him, he is asking them to yield their due.
It was a statement that could come out because the structure was such that the more the person next to him took, the more he took.
“If you’ve been getting free meals all this time, you should be grateful...!”
Anger flashed across Prince Alfonso's face. He leaped to his feet.
Bam!
The chair the Prince was sitting on fell over and he rolled around inside the tent.
Only then did the Grand Duke of Yuldenburg, who had been watching the situation, open his mouth.
“Everyone has a point.”
He sorted out the situation.
“Prince Alfonso, please calm down. Even though Sir Albrecht divided up the tasks, it was ultimately my decision as Commander-in-Chief to assign your men to this mission.”
He looked at Sir Manfredi with deep eyes.
“I hope you will follow the headquarters’ instructions.”
Sir Manfredi lowered his head, speechless.
Prince Alfonso also immediately grabbed the commander of Birkenbaum by the collar and tried to drag him out.
“And everyone in this tent.”
He looked around the room with thoughtful gray eyes.
“Do not diminish the great merit of the Etruscan friends in this battle.”
Someone again spoke up in a disgruntled voice.
“How much is the ransom for capturing one prisoner that you sell it so cheaply?”
It's a captive worth about 30 ducats. If it's a lot, it's a lot, if it's a little, it's a little.
“It’s not about the loot.”
The Grand Duke of Yuldenberg answered calmly.
“That unit was on its way to burn the village that helped us in the rear. Ransom is one thing, but Prince Alfonso and the Etruscan army saved many people. Do not forget the purpose of this expedition.”
Holy War. A pilgrimage war in which faithful servants of the Gods volunteer to go to the holy land to glorify the name of the Gods and reclaim the holy land of Yesak.
“If we fail to win the hearts of the local people, even if we conquer the walls of Yesak, it will only be a temporary victory. We must influence the local people.”
Although the impudent gaze did not subside all at once, the voices of protest died down.
The Grand Duke of Yuldenburg took advantage of the situation to settle the financial issue at once.
“Let the distribution of spoils be done according to the principles.”
Alfonso gave the Grand Duke of Yuldenburg a brief bow as a gesture of gratitude, but he wanted more.
“I will abide by the judgment of His Excellency the Commander-in-Chief. However, my desire to be at the forefront in the next battle remains unchanged.”
“We will take it into consideration when deploying. Please let us know if the armament improves.”
Prince Alfonso's military exploits of stopping a single company with a handful of troops and achieving victory could only be described as brilliant.
Although small in scale, it was an achievement of such quality that it was not easily achieved.
That was the end of the strategy meeting that day. It was an awkward but refreshing day at the same time.
After the meeting was over, on the way back to their respective quarters in the camp, the eyes of the knights and common soldiers who were unable to participate in the strategy meeting were focused on Alfonso and his party.
Some people looked at him with curiosity, some with admiration, and some looked down on him.
“Your Highness, don’t you think the way they look at us is a little different?”
Sir Manfredi asked, his voice cracking. Prince Alfonso answered lazily, running his hand through his blood-stained blond hair.
“To this extent already.”
The Prince saw a much bigger future.
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