On a waning night when not even a crescent moon as big as an eyebrow could rise, the mountain peaks, thickly clouded, stood tall and cast shadows.
The hazy mass that covered the mountain looked like fog or a carpet.
And on that carpet of clouds, people flowed towards the top of the mountain.
Besides this, countless processions were heading to the top of the mountain.
Some glided across the carpet, but most walked beneath the clouds.
Whether they walked above the clouds or below the clouds, their destination was one.
"Is there still some time left until the opening?"
"We have to close before the moon rises, so what are we going to do if we come this late?"
Those who had arrived at the meeting place in advance and were waiting for the opening were having conversations among themselves.
"Do you have any interesting stories to share these days?"
"Why, there was a plague in Gallico! That's all they talk about."
"Oh, right. They said there was a returnee from the Etruscan kingdom?"
The meeting cannot begin until all the Carpet Riders have arrived.
Those who arrived on foot had to kill time until then. The conversation naturally turned to the most provocative topics.
"Who the hell made him regress?"
"It's been over a thousand years since the last returner appeared in the Central Continent."
"Out of standard!"
"We can't just ignore such rule violations!"
Even among those who arrived on foot, there seemed to be no consensus.
As voices grew louder, someone chimed in from the side.
"Why is that against the rules?"
A raspy voice retorted.
"Excuse me, are you supporting that group right now?"
"Your group? Watch your words. You're from the Kingdom of Gallico!"
"I came here a thousand years ago, so what does the Kingdom of Gallico have to do with me? I love the people of that land!"
"You sound like a commoner."
"You are such a low-class person, and you are acting like this in a sacred meeting place. Watch your mouth!"
"A rank is a rank, and a violation of the rules is a violation of the rules!"
As the atmosphere became heated, some people appeared to try to stop it.
"Wait! It's going to be on the agenda today anyway! Don't fight!"
At that moment, a young man with black wings who seemed to be the leader of this group even though he was sitting at the round table clasped his hands together.
Everyone's attention was focused on him.
The black-winged young man, who had not said a single word throughout today's meeting, summarized the situation in just a few words.
"Prometheus, please weigh who to save and who to sacrifice, and what effect that will have on the good and bad deeds of the regressor."
The giant bowed his head to the young man.
"Yes."
The young man spoke to the white-winged child this time. It was the one who had been in charge of the agenda.
"Please announce it as is."
"Yes, I understand."
The child with the white wings delivered the conclusion of the fifth agenda as set forth above.
"...So, we decided to move forward without touching the regressors and to protect some of the people in the northern part of the Central Continent!"
Below, fierce opposition erupted, especially from those based in the Gallico lands.
"I'm telling you to just endure the loss!"
"Who would like that!"
The hazy mass that covered the mountain looked like fog or a carpet.
And on that carpet of clouds, people flowed towards the top of the mountain.
Besides this, countless processions were heading to the top of the mountain.
Some glided across the carpet, but most walked beneath the clouds.
Whether they walked above the clouds or below the clouds, their destination was one.
"Is there still some time left until the opening?"
"We have to close before the moon rises, so what are we going to do if we come this late?"
Those who had arrived at the meeting place in advance and were waiting for the opening were having conversations among themselves.
"Do you have any interesting stories to share these days?"
"Why, there was a plague in Gallico! That's all they talk about."
"Oh, right. They said there was a returnee from the Etruscan kingdom?"
The meeting cannot begin until all the Carpet Riders have arrived.
Those who arrived on foot had to kill time until then. The conversation naturally turned to the most provocative topics.
"Who the hell made him regress?"
"It's been over a thousand years since the last returner appeared in the Central Continent."
"Out of standard!"
"We can't just ignore such rule violations!"
Even among those who arrived on foot, there seemed to be no consensus.
As voices grew louder, someone chimed in from the side.
"Why is that against the rules?"
A raspy voice retorted.
"Excuse me, are you supporting that group right now?"
"Your group? Watch your words. You're from the Kingdom of Gallico!"
"I came here a thousand years ago, so what does the Kingdom of Gallico have to do with me? I love the people of that land!"
"You sound like a commoner."
"You are such a low-class person, and you are acting like this in a sacred meeting place. Watch your mouth!"
"A rank is a rank, and a violation of the rules is a violation of the rules!"
As the atmosphere became heated, some people appeared to try to stop it.
"Wait! It's going to be on the agenda today anyway! Don't fight!"
"What good will it do if we fight? The higher-ups will make the decision. Let them fight."
There were angry people, defenders, whiners, and all sorts of characters.
And finally, the meeting began.
"The 1127th meeting of the 25th half-life of 'Aperta Oculus' is now open!"
The murmuring voices suddenly ceased.
The huge conference hall built of white marble was divided into upper and lower floors.
The opening declaration was made by a figure appearing from a high place.
He flapped his white wings and gave a bright opening declaration, then continued to present the agenda.
"Let's move on to the first agenda item!"
The beginning of the meeting was always the same.
Reporting on new recruits, monitoring the supply and demand of souls, the status of the reincarnation cycle, and handling everyday tasks.
The incident that had captured the participants' attention was brought up as an agenda item only in the latter half of the meeting when everyone had begun to yawn in boredom.
There were angry people, defenders, whiners, and all sorts of characters.
And finally, the meeting began.
"The 1127th meeting of the 25th half-life of 'Aperta Oculus' is now open!"
The murmuring voices suddenly ceased.
The huge conference hall built of white marble was divided into upper and lower floors.
The opening declaration was made by a figure appearing from a high place.
He flapped his white wings and gave a bright opening declaration, then continued to present the agenda.
"Let's move on to the first agenda item!"
The beginning of the meeting was always the same.
Reporting on new recruits, monitoring the supply and demand of souls, the status of the reincarnation cycle, and handling everyday tasks.
The incident that had captured the participants' attention was brought up as an agenda item only in the latter half of the meeting when everyone had begun to yawn in boredom.
"I will now discuss the fifth agenda item! It is the problem of the Black Death spreading across the northern part of the Central Continent."
After sharing the agenda title, presentations on the issues followed.
"According to 'The Fate That Was Set', this Black Death was supposed to land only in the southern part of the Central Continent, spread only to the Etruscan Peninsula and coastal islands, and then end there, but unexpectedly, it has spread beyond the central part of the Central Continent and is now running rampant in the northern part."
Even before the announcement of the agenda from on high had been completed, disgruntled accusations continued from lower down.
"What do you mean you couldn't predict it? It's because of the regressor!"
"Punishment! Do you know how many people in the northern part of the Central Continent have been killed by that one human being? Punishment! Discipline those responsible who failed to stop it!"
The anger of those based in the Kingdom of Gallico was particularly high.
However, the rest of the regions, especially those with strong ties to the Moorish Empire that held the absolute majority, seemed indifferent or merely curious, while those with Etruscan roots desperately defended the returnees.
Some simply defended the system.
"Usually, one regressor doesn't change history that much! How did the <Committee of 30> manage all that?"
"Punishment can only be given after the time of the 'Judgment Seat' has ended and the good and bad deeds have been measured! The time given to this regressor is not over yet!"
"We can't intervene now! We're not qualified to do so!"
Opinions varied at the lower levels, but ultimately the final decision was made by the <Committee of 30> at the higher levels.
"Tsk, those who don't even have the right to vote are making a lot of noise."
The God of war, his whole body wrapped in swaying flames, clicked his tongue.
"Be respectful of others. The person below you can replace you at any time."
"Oh, yes, Master."
A scholar wearing a white toga rebuked the God of war, who simply ignored him.
The giant with calluses on his hands, who had been listening to the story from before, looked around at the crowd and made a suggestion.
"It is a rule that we cannot intervene until the time of the judgment is over, but from what I have heard, it seems that the damage to the northern part of the Central Continent is significant."
The God of war spat out calmly.
"Are you saying we should get involved or not?"
"How about we take measures to ensure that only a few people who will contribute decisively to the given fate are spared from losing their lives in this plague?"
There was a counterargument to that. The young woman in armor frowned.
"If we artificially twist our fate like that, there will be people we have to give up in return."
The giant answered, and some responded.
"Isn't some sacrifice inevitable?"
"That too is the providence of Mother Nature."
There were additional comments.
"If someone makes a sacrifice like that, should that be counted as the evil deed of this regressor?"
The scholar said.
"We are the ones intervening, so isn't it a bit unfair to leave it up to them?"
The young woman in armor retorted angrily.
"It is true that I provided some of the cause. If the regressor had not spread the plague, this would not have happened!"
After sharing the agenda title, presentations on the issues followed.
"According to 'The Fate That Was Set', this Black Death was supposed to land only in the southern part of the Central Continent, spread only to the Etruscan Peninsula and coastal islands, and then end there, but unexpectedly, it has spread beyond the central part of the Central Continent and is now running rampant in the northern part."
Even before the announcement of the agenda from on high had been completed, disgruntled accusations continued from lower down.
"What do you mean you couldn't predict it? It's because of the regressor!"
"Punishment! Do you know how many people in the northern part of the Central Continent have been killed by that one human being? Punishment! Discipline those responsible who failed to stop it!"
The anger of those based in the Kingdom of Gallico was particularly high.
However, the rest of the regions, especially those with strong ties to the Moorish Empire that held the absolute majority, seemed indifferent or merely curious, while those with Etruscan roots desperately defended the returnees.
Some simply defended the system.
"Usually, one regressor doesn't change history that much! How did the <Committee of 30> manage all that?"
"Punishment can only be given after the time of the 'Judgment Seat' has ended and the good and bad deeds have been measured! The time given to this regressor is not over yet!"
"We can't intervene now! We're not qualified to do so!"
Opinions varied at the lower levels, but ultimately the final decision was made by the <Committee of 30> at the higher levels.
"Tsk, those who don't even have the right to vote are making a lot of noise."
The God of war, his whole body wrapped in swaying flames, clicked his tongue.
"Be respectful of others. The person below you can replace you at any time."
"Oh, yes, Master."
A scholar wearing a white toga rebuked the God of war, who simply ignored him.
The giant with calluses on his hands, who had been listening to the story from before, looked around at the crowd and made a suggestion.
"It is a rule that we cannot intervene until the time of the judgment is over, but from what I have heard, it seems that the damage to the northern part of the Central Continent is significant."
The God of war spat out calmly.
"Are you saying we should get involved or not?"
"How about we take measures to ensure that only a few people who will contribute decisively to the given fate are spared from losing their lives in this plague?"
There was a counterargument to that. The young woman in armor frowned.
"If we artificially twist our fate like that, there will be people we have to give up in return."
The giant answered, and some responded.
"Isn't some sacrifice inevitable?"
"That too is the providence of Mother Nature."
There were additional comments.
"If someone makes a sacrifice like that, should that be counted as the evil deed of this regressor?"
The scholar said.
"We are the ones intervening, so isn't it a bit unfair to leave it up to them?"
The young woman in armor retorted angrily.
"It is true that I provided some of the cause. If the regressor had not spread the plague, this would not have happened!"
At that moment, a young man with black wings who seemed to be the leader of this group even though he was sitting at the round table clasped his hands together.
Everyone's attention was focused on him.
The black-winged young man, who had not said a single word throughout today's meeting, summarized the situation in just a few words.
"Prometheus, please weigh who to save and who to sacrifice, and what effect that will have on the good and bad deeds of the regressor."
The giant bowed his head to the young man.
"Yes."
The young man spoke to the white-winged child this time. It was the one who had been in charge of the agenda.
"Please announce it as is."
"Yes, I understand."
The child with the white wings delivered the conclusion of the fifth agenda as set forth above.
"...So, we decided to move forward without touching the regressors and to protect some of the people in the northern part of the Central Continent!"
Below, fierce opposition erupted, especially from those based in the Gallico lands.
"I'm telling you to just endure the loss!"
"Who would like that!"
"There is talk that the regressor's regression method was not fair! An investigation is needed!"
As the atmosphere in the room grew tense, the white-winged child looked back at the black-winged youth with an embarrassed expression.
The black-winged young man pointed to the sky. It was already dawn. The time for the waning moon to rise was imminent.
The white-winged child turned to the audience again.
"We will discuss it as an agenda item at the next meeting!"
The child cried out, flapping his white wings.
"The closing time is approaching! It's time for everyone to disperse!"
The moon was rising, and there was no time to delay. No matter how much discontent there was, eternal life was precious.
Those who had gathered quickly gathered in twos and threes and left, suppressing their complaints.
Time is long. If you have any complaints, just vent them at the next meeting.
The greatest advantage of eternal life was that there was no rush.
Prince Alfonso, now more often referred to as 'Commander of the Brigade', led his knights at the head of the crusader army, keeping an eye on the Moorish vanguard through the blowing sandstorm.
Behind him, over 2,000 heavy cavalrymen were lined up in an orderly fashion.
“Brigadier General, the main unit has been told to wait for about 30 more minutes.”
The knight wearing a black helmet reported.
"Hmm."
Alfonso's knights were all dressed in black armor, and their weapons varied.
Prince Alfonso truly accepted all kinds of people as his people.
There was also a northern-style full armor from the Central Continent, as well as a southern-style armor with many decorations and many accessories.
So, the Prince had all his men paint their helmets and armor black to identify them as belonging to his unit on the battlefield.
The Black Helmet Knights achieved outstanding feats.
Perhaps that is why, recently, Prince Alfonso is referred to more often as 'Alfonso Casco Nero' (Alfonso of the Black Helmet) than as his real name, 'Alfonso de Carlo'.
“If you rush in, there’s a crack between rows 6 and 8.”
Alfonso gave the knight a word.
“They are all equipped with the same equipment, but the races of the enemy’s vanguard and the ones behind them are different. They are probably slaves or surrendered troops.”
Alfonso first gained fame for his personal prowess.
It was mainly evaluated that the individual fighting power was higher than that of large-scale strategies.
However, with the military funds he received from his home country, they were able to properly equip themselves with personnel, weapons, and mobility, and they began to display outstanding military talent.
As he continued to win every battle he went into, the evaluation that he was just a 'powerful cannon', which was full of jealousy and envy, gradually disappeared.
Since his army grew to brigade size, Alfonso was regarded as the most feared commander in the Moorish Empire.
“I want you to go around my battalion and tell stories. I want you to take advantage of this opportunity.”
"All right!"
Alfonso's black flag fluttered in the desert sandstorm.
He was using his own black flag, not the royal flag of the House of Carlo, which featured a laurel wreath and a deer.
It was a flag that had never existed in history, and a brigade that had never existed.
Today's battle was to recapture the holy site of Al Rummani, as the locals call it, but in its previous life, it was the starting point of a decisive defeat for the Third Crusade.
This was the ruins of the Granata Monastery, famous among the Central Continent's Yesakists as the place where the hero of the First Crusade, Commander-in-Chief William the Lionheart, found eternal rest.
The Third Crusade of the past had a small number of operational cavalry, so it mainly attacked the monasteries with infantry and suffered heavy losses on the way uphill.
However, today's Third Crusade had the Black Helmets led by Alfonso.
They chose the plains as their battlefield, and fortunately, the Moorish Empire responded by fighting on the plains.
Prince Alfonso, who was in a different place than in his previous life, boosted the morale of his men.
“Let’s reclaim the Granata Monastery and retrieve the remains of King William the Lionheart...!!”
“Waaa..."
His voice resonated throughout the battlefield.
“If we can just get our hands on that place, we can use it as a bridgehead to attack the ancient capital of Yesak from the highlands!”
“Wooooo!!!”
“Let’s go back victorious!”
“Waaa..."
The knights responded loudly, striking their shields with their swords.
The fate that awaits the Third Crusade is that they will suffer a major defeat in today's battle, the wounded Grand Duke of Yuldenburg will be forced to retreat from the front lines and die while fighting an illness, and the Third Crusade will return empty-handed and without much to show for it.
But the current Third Crusade includes the Black Helmets and the brave general Alfonso Casco Nero, who did not exist before.
And there was no defeat in Alfonso's dictionary.
As the atmosphere in the room grew tense, the white-winged child looked back at the black-winged youth with an embarrassed expression.
The black-winged young man pointed to the sky. It was already dawn. The time for the waning moon to rise was imminent.
The white-winged child turned to the audience again.
"We will discuss it as an agenda item at the next meeting!"
The child cried out, flapping his white wings.
"The closing time is approaching! It's time for everyone to disperse!"
The moon was rising, and there was no time to delay. No matter how much discontent there was, eternal life was precious.
Those who had gathered quickly gathered in twos and threes and left, suppressing their complaints.
Time is long. If you have any complaints, just vent them at the next meeting.
The greatest advantage of eternal life was that there was no rush.
***
Prince Alfonso, now more often referred to as 'Commander of the Brigade', led his knights at the head of the crusader army, keeping an eye on the Moorish vanguard through the blowing sandstorm.
Behind him, over 2,000 heavy cavalrymen were lined up in an orderly fashion.
“Brigadier General, the main unit has been told to wait for about 30 more minutes.”
The knight wearing a black helmet reported.
"Hmm."
Alfonso's knights were all dressed in black armor, and their weapons varied.
Prince Alfonso truly accepted all kinds of people as his people.
There was also a northern-style full armor from the Central Continent, as well as a southern-style armor with many decorations and many accessories.
So, the Prince had all his men paint their helmets and armor black to identify them as belonging to his unit on the battlefield.
The Black Helmet Knights achieved outstanding feats.
Perhaps that is why, recently, Prince Alfonso is referred to more often as 'Alfonso Casco Nero' (Alfonso of the Black Helmet) than as his real name, 'Alfonso de Carlo'.
“If you rush in, there’s a crack between rows 6 and 8.”
Alfonso gave the knight a word.
“They are all equipped with the same equipment, but the races of the enemy’s vanguard and the ones behind them are different. They are probably slaves or surrendered troops.”
Alfonso first gained fame for his personal prowess.
It was mainly evaluated that the individual fighting power was higher than that of large-scale strategies.
However, with the military funds he received from his home country, they were able to properly equip themselves with personnel, weapons, and mobility, and they began to display outstanding military talent.
As he continued to win every battle he went into, the evaluation that he was just a 'powerful cannon', which was full of jealousy and envy, gradually disappeared.
Since his army grew to brigade size, Alfonso was regarded as the most feared commander in the Moorish Empire.
“I want you to go around my battalion and tell stories. I want you to take advantage of this opportunity.”
"All right!"
Alfonso's black flag fluttered in the desert sandstorm.
He was using his own black flag, not the royal flag of the House of Carlo, which featured a laurel wreath and a deer.
It was a flag that had never existed in history, and a brigade that had never existed.
Today's battle was to recapture the holy site of Al Rummani, as the locals call it, but in its previous life, it was the starting point of a decisive defeat for the Third Crusade.
This was the ruins of the Granata Monastery, famous among the Central Continent's Yesakists as the place where the hero of the First Crusade, Commander-in-Chief William the Lionheart, found eternal rest.
The Third Crusade of the past had a small number of operational cavalry, so it mainly attacked the monasteries with infantry and suffered heavy losses on the way uphill.
However, today's Third Crusade had the Black Helmets led by Alfonso.
They chose the plains as their battlefield, and fortunately, the Moorish Empire responded by fighting on the plains.
Prince Alfonso, who was in a different place than in his previous life, boosted the morale of his men.
“Let’s reclaim the Granata Monastery and retrieve the remains of King William the Lionheart...!!”
“Waaa..."
His voice resonated throughout the battlefield.
“If we can just get our hands on that place, we can use it as a bridgehead to attack the ancient capital of Yesak from the highlands!”
“Wooooo!!!”
“Let’s go back victorious!”
“Waaa..."
The knights responded loudly, striking their shields with their swords.
The fate that awaits the Third Crusade is that they will suffer a major defeat in today's battle, the wounded Grand Duke of Yuldenburg will be forced to retreat from the front lines and die while fighting an illness, and the Third Crusade will return empty-handed and without much to show for it.
But the current Third Crusade includes the Black Helmets and the brave general Alfonso Casco Nero, who did not exist before.
And there was no defeat in Alfonso's dictionary.
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