Chapter 147

Chapter 147

***

The world after the rain looked exceptionally clear and clean. The moisture-laden grass was fresher than usual, and inhaling the cool air seemed to open up the chest widely.

The clouds floating over the sea were torn long, and sunlight fell through them. The crashing waves were calm as if catching their breath.

Rickart looked at the magnificent sight crafted by nature with a calm gaze from horseback.

The clouds flowing by somewhat quickly, and accordingly the sunlight falling in straight lines became thin and thick, got covered, and then pierced the sea again. It was like a waving curtain of light.

Unlike the solemn and quiet scenery, the surroundings were a bit noisy, due to the troops preparing to move.

For a while that noise didn't enter his ears, but suddenly it caught Rickart's attention. Rickart turned his head and gave an order.

"Let's go."

Then Raimund, who was only looking at Rickart from the side, spun his hand upwards and sent a hand signal.

Seeing that hand signal, someone shouted vigorously.

"1st unit! Depaaaart!"

Then the 1st unit troops that were waiting in advance each walked forward with weapons like spears leaning on their shoulders. They continuously went up north along the coastline, and the flanks were guarded by knights.

The march of an army wasn't something done haphazardly. They had to organize the formation paying attention in their own way, placing the strongest unit, the weakest unit, senior soldiers, rookies, and according to branch of service at the vanguard, center, rear, flanks, etc.

These trivial know-hows gathered and were displayed as combat power. Swinging weapons at enemies might perhaps not be relatively important.

If I can strike an exhausted enemy in a fresh state, if I can attack enemies at an unexpected moment. Creating such situations was exactly the essence of victorious battles.

The troops lent by King Santonio, and the knights and auxiliary soldiers of the Flame Knights all had outstanding experience and knowledge regarding battles.

And, the experience of defeating an enemy three times more numerous itself was their greatest asset. Certainty and belief in victory. That was something that couldn't be bought with money, nor made up for with training.

Rickart had the confidence to fight and win. However, until the very last of the last moments, he was agonizing. Whether he truly had to fight.

"Accept the pain and think beyond it."

Hashim, who was riding a horse next to Rickart, said. Rickart nodded his head.

And then, watching the units depart for the march, he dashed across the field next to the beach accompanied by only a few knights.

The moisture-laden field had short grass growing so it wasn't muddy.

The dull sound of horse hooves going duguduk, duguduk sounded like the drums of a battlefield, resounding towards Vilter's army moving south from the north.

Departing in the morning and it becoming late afternoon, the scouts who had gone ahead diligently changing horses brought some news.

The cool wind from after the rain was still continuously blowing, and the clouds half-covering the sky moved quickly, wondering where they were going so busily.

"They are half a day's distance in the northwest direction. The number is about 4,000 and there are many knights. Whether there is an ambush has not been figured out yet."

He already knew to what extent Vilter's troop strength was. It was about 800 knights and 3,000 auxiliary soldiers.

The troops were larger on Rickart's side who received the King's support. 6,000 to 4,000. It was difficult to guarantee victory with numbers alone. Momentum, terrain, weather, and time had to be considered. And the number of knights was larger on Vilter's side.

"Stop the march."

Rickart instructed. Then the order was passed and the unit going at the very front stopped their steps.

The time was already late afternoon so unless they were going to do a night battle, it was correct to set up camp now. The experienced scouts knew that, so they explored the surrounding area in advance.

The level of an army was revealed starting from the level of its scouts. The discerning eye to read the terrain, coping ability when confronting enemy scouts, etc.

Sure enough, skirmishes broke out among scouts in the fields.

Although not visible from where Rickart was right now, it could be clearly known that a fight broke out somewhere far away.

Looking at a horse without an owner running somewhere alone, or a scout hurriedly running over carrying a wounded person.

"Potion! Potioooon!"

Carrying a person with a crushed and dangling arm on his back, a hurriedly running scout shouted.

Potions were almost never supplied unless individuals prepared them, but Valensha had a lot of money and Rickart made a special instruction to supply them to scouts for free.

"If you go west for about an hour, there is a hill blending with a rocky mountain nearby. The ground near the hill has no grass and is muddy."

"The enemies seem to be organizing a separate detached force comprised of knights. There might be a night attack or an ambush."

"The place where the enemies are has a river formed due to the rainy season flowing to the west, and a rocky mountain to the east."

Even while scouts were getting hurt somewhere, other scouts continuously reported up.

As a commander, one of the difficult points was having to collect these reports and make the most appropriate judgment. There were occasionally cases where the report and reality were different, and all that had to be taken into account.

They said half a day's distance but in reality it's further, or going according to the report the terrain is different from the description, or the enemies' movements could be a deceptive tactic.

Rickart mobilized all his experience and knowledge to make a judgment, then gave instructions.

"Set up the camp here. The beach is right next to it so we only need to guard the north and west. Divide the units into two, the Flame Knights and King Sancho's army. Place the King's army in the front, and place the knighthood in the rear so they are hidden. And tell the scouts not to overdo it."

It was a specific, simple, and safe instruction. Because giving weird orders trying to do something special for no reason could make the soldiers suffer unnecessarily.

Above all, the battlefield confirmed with my own eyes right now was better. Moving and setting up camp now was tight on time, and doing so would inevitably make the response to the opponent's movements slow.

As the instruction fell, the soldiers who had been marching carrying heavy stakes until now started driving stakes into the ground.

It was incredibly sloppy, but it was effective in blocking sudden knight charges. The difference between having it and not having it was huge.

Detailed instructions were given by frontline commanders. They took a formation leaving a retreat route to the south, facing the beach to the east, and defending the north and west.

Pulling the knighthood troops to the back was because if they weren't seen by the opponent, they couldn't hastily provoke either.

Like that, Rickart prepared for battle with a calm mind.

However, it was around the time the sun leaned and the sunset was burning the clouds red at the end of the earth far away. An opposing knight holding a white flag came over and conveyed words.

"Our Commander wishes to see you. Bring all the Flame Knights. We will do the same."

Merely conveying those words, he turned his horse's head and just left.

"He does not seem like someone who would use cowardly tricks though......"

Since it was a strange request no matter who heard it, Raimund muttered.

Excluding auxiliary troops, the number of knights in the Flame Knights was about 1,000. Currently, Rickart had a larger overall troop strength, but among those 1,000 knights, Rickart had 200, and Vilter had 800.

It was to the point of being questionable since asking for knights to meet separately was too blatant. However, there was a particularity to the current situation.

Rickart didn't think for long and made a judgment.

"We go. Tell the knights to get everything ready."

Then the knights who were resting having taken off their helmets and equipment a bit from marching all day, put everything back on again.

"If something happens do not come to rescue, and thoroughly guard the camp. We will take care of it and return."

Rickart gave an instruction to the person commanding the King's army, and went out to the field together with the Flame Knights.

The speed at which the clouds drifted was still fast. The radiant and subtle sunset shone on Rickart and the knights from the side, and horse hooves drummed the earth.

Dudududududududu.

Before long, the 800 knights all on horseback were seen. They looked to be wearing the exact same surcoats over chainmail. That was the same for Rickart's side's Flame Knights as well.

Vilter could be seen. He was on an ash-grey horse. His helmet was tied to the saddle, and his blond hair was somewhat wet. Seeming to converse with his comrades nearby, he turned his head and looked at Rickart.

Rickart, wearing golden armor with a red battle surcoat and cape, faced Vilter riding 'Crimson Comet'—though it wasn't a name he came up with. The gazes directed at each other met in the middle.

Then his mind which he had calmly settled started to crack. His heart pounded wildly. It was unknown due to what emotion.

If this peerless hero had exactly one weakness, it was family. His usual easygoing personality, his bravery on battlefields where spears and swords ran rampant, all collapsed uselessly easily in front of his family.

Billy, are your feelings truly not the same as mine? He wanted to ask that.

However, Vilter merely approached at a slow speed. Rickart also drove his horse slowly, making an effort to swallow his emotions.

All the knights followed their leaders. The rumbling sound echoed on the wet field. Being ground after the rain, dust didn't rise.

When the distance became such that they could accurately see each other's eyes, nose, and mouth, Vilter raised his hand to stop the following knights. Rickart also similarly made his stop.

The red sunset formed on the dew hanging at the ends of the leaves. With countless red beads shining full in the field, it was to the point of being dizzyingly beautiful from the beauty crafted by nature.

However, among these many men present, not a single one looked back at that beauty.

The red sunset also reflected in Vilter's blue eyes. However, the light in his eyes directed at his younger brother was like fire, and his eye shape was cold as ice.

On the other hand, the expressions of the Flame Knights facing each other lined up sideways were blunt on the outside, but their bitter and complicated feelings were revealed in their eyes.

Even though they were torn apart with opinions starkly divided, that was only a short while ago.

But how many years was it that they saved each other's lives in those dangerous battles, relied on and became a reliance for each other, and endured the arduous knighthood life together.

There was more than one or two who had grown up together since their squire days. Seniors and juniors, no, they were brothers literally.

It seemed like if they just took one step closer, if they just reached out they could hold hands, but the two brothers standing at the antipodes of all these brothers were not like that.

Vilter spoke first.

"Drawing outsiders into a family fight is a dishonorable act, Ricky."

Family fight, it was a phrase containing truly various meanings. The fight between Rickart and Vilter, the Flame Knights, King Santonio and his brother, the Sinatria civil war.

Vilter's words meant borrowing the King's army.

"I want to be sarcastic but I'll hold back. The King's army will follow me and fight."

"Hmph, do you think I am doing this simply because I am afraid of your large troop numbers? I have won countless times against enemies more numerous than our allies. What I am saying is that there is no need for brothers to shed a lot of blood among themselves. Let's each select seven people and compete for victory. Accept it if you are not a coward."

"You are the only one who calls me a coward, Billy."

"Then is it decided?"

Rickart looked back at Raimund and the knights once, then brought up words he had thought over for a long time to Vilter.

"Before that, if you go to Adelorn I can give you a home. Let's end the civil war together. Do it if you want to be King. I will help you until the end. You can distribute territories to the knights, or have them take on new duties. Doing this complaining you were abandoned by bastards like the Emperor and King is neither righteous, nor honorable."

Rickart was sincerely prepared to give up everything besides family and friends.

He had no greed for things like Kingship from the beginning, so he could help him do it as much as he wanted, and could truly give him a new foundation for life too.

But Vilter burst into a hollow laugh, as if finding it ridiculous.

"Do you think I am doing this because I am afraid of the Emperor or Kings? Are you asking if I wish for power or comfort and the like? There is what our ancestors have protected, and what we, what I have protected and lived. Specifically, defending the borders of the Empire iron-clad. Even if it's not the Empire anymore, it is fine. Just as we have done since long ago, we merely bury our bones at the border of life and death."

Unable to communicate on earth, Rickart's insides boiled up furiously. However, conversely, a cold smile hung on his face. Was it needless rebelling spirit. Because he's an older brother.

"......My, that sounds like a bizarre excuse."

"Excuse?"

"Yeah. Aren't you just venting your anger? To me, it just looks like a dog abandoned by its owner with nowhere to go rushing about in confusion. Establishing a country or keeping honor is all bullshit! Shall I tell you one more thing!? Billy, you actually don't want to do this but are doing it forcedly! You are exactly the coward!"

As his emotions escalated in the middle of speaking, Rickart's voice grew louder. Thinking of his brother from afar had been sad, but actually seeing him before his eyes made him so frustrated that anger surged up.

What drove him even more crazy was the fact that he was regretting it in a corner of his heart the moment he spat the words out. You could have said it a bit nicer.

However, the already spat-out words couldn't be gathered back.

Vilter gritted his teeth tightly and glared at Rickart trembling. Then he too spat out words he shouldn't have said.

"It's because of you that Mother died, Ricky. She became frail after giving birth to you. To be honest, I've never considered you as a younger brother. If it weren't for you Mother would have been alive too! Father and older brother would have taken in just me! It all became like this because of you!"

With emotions escalating, like any ordinary brothers, it seemed as if they were having a childish argument. However, those childish words became daggers exactly because they were brothers, ruthlessly stabbing each other's chests. It felt like hacking the heart with a sharp knife.

As Vilter poured out harsh words even bringing up their mother, Rickart was appalled and trembled. How could you of all people say such words. The rims of his eyes reddened.

Rickart gritted his teeth tightly, pointed at his brother with a hand trembling with anger, and spoke as if chewing and spitting out.

"There's no need to fight seven times even. You come out first. Let's finish it between the two of us."

As soon as those words fell, Vilter sharply turned his reins sideways and sprinted away.

Almost a thousand Flame Knights were lined up facing each other, but Vilter, slipping out sideways, returned exactly to his own camp. The 800 knights rumbled along following their Commander.

Before long the sunset also faded, and the day began to grow dark. Rickart stood in that spot, and caught his roughened breath despite having done nothing. No matter how many times he took deep breaths, it didn't return to normal.

The cynical words I spat out, and the sharp words Vilter spat out seemed to playback repeatedly as if nailed in my brain. The fierce passion swirling in his chest wouldn't subside easily.

By the way, the Flame Knights who watched the fight between brothers had restless hearts. Because although called combat machines, actually they were not machines.

If they just took one step, just one more step closer......