Episode 11 : The Secret of Kal-Mor - Part 3

And so--

 The tent of Mongol was completely asleep.

 The orange light leaking through the gap in the tent of Amneris, which had been on at the last moment, also went out.

 The men who were not on duty would lie in the shade of their horses, with their black legs tucked under their bellies, and wrap a thick piece of cloth around their bodies like a minnow, so that they were completely covered with it, and bend their bodies in a crook, trying to get as much sleep as possible. The cloth was usually under them on the march, to make them as comfortable as possible in the saddle, and as soon as they dismounted, it became an instant carpet, a bed, and sometimes even an instant banquet table.

 Here and there on the outskirts of that army of Mongols, huddled together, round and round like countless mushrooms suddenly sprouting out of the black, unobstructed wilderness of Nosferus, like spores sprouting from a swarm of round mushrooms, stand the night-long patrols. The soldiers on duty stand with spears in their hands, headscarves on their heads and half-cloaks over their shoulders, their silhouettes exposed.

 Above their heads is a blue-purple sky that is about to dawn. It is a hue that will stain the eyes of those who look upon it with a gentleness and beauty that is unmatched even in this unexplored region. but there is nothing to look at.

 Even if there were, it was not to admire its soft violet hue, reminiscent of the eyes of a beautiful woman, but only to look at the horizon, hoping that the dawn would break sooner rather than later, to feel safe, at least for the time being, from the threat of the Semites, who could be lurking anywhere. All I can do is look at the horizon, hoping that the dawn will break sooner than later, so that I can feel safe, at least for the time being, from the threat of the Semites.

 In the midst of the sentry on duty, a sentry, startled by what he saw, snapped his spear back,

"Somebody!"

 A low, short voice.

 is ,

"Oh, excuse me, sir."

 I panicked and drew my spear. It was Viscount Astorius, captain of the Red Knights, who appeared.

"Good, good-- keep watch."

 The handsome young captain, who had not yet reached his twentieth year, would have walked away from his horse and his shabby bed to breathe in the clear dawn air, unable to fall asleep.

 Even though protected by a sturdy armor, his waist was thin, firm and supple, and he put his hands on his shoulders and looked toward the horizon, his white, neat profile clouded by a pensive shadow.

"What a woman. What an astonishing woman, she is at ...! And she's only eighteen years old..."

 Asturias whispered softly, his face exposed to the morning air, with a dreamy expression on it, as if he were caught up in some longing, longing thought.

"What? What did he say to you, sir?"

"Oh, no-- it's nothing."

 The young Mongol warrior looked at him with a startled look, and a hint of blood ran down his cheeks.

 But, of course, that's invisible to the Sentinel.

"..."

 For fear of disturbing the contemplation of this young hero, who was known as the young lion of Mongol, the red hero, and the object of the admiration of the whole army, he kept his eyes downcast for a while, nodding, and occasionally glancing at him softly, but at length, as if he had made up his mind, he called out to him slowly.

"Sir."

"What?"

"May I ask you something, sir?"

"What the fuck. Say it."

"The--"

 The sentry hesitated. Asturias, who had a rough idea of what was going on, kept his eyes fixed on the horizon.

"It's about-- it's about our destination."

 As soon as he had spoken, the Sentry seemed to have worked up the nerve and became desperate to say what he had to say.

"Such is the rumor that has been circulating among us. Her Highness, the Lady of Mongol, has led us on a long expedition to conquer all of Nosferus, and it is not known how many of us will ever set foot on our homeland again. --"

"Even if that were the case, don't you think it's the duty of a Mongol soldier to bury his bones in another land to be a symbol of Mongol's prosperity in such an important duty?"

 For a moment, Asturias's voice sounded reproachful, but then he quickly recalled.

"Have such rumors been circulating for a long time now?"

 Move closer to the sentry and ask him.

"Is--"

"Don't be afraid. Take off your helmet and speak up."

 The sentry suddenly became afraid that Astorius might try to remember his face, which he had spoken to him at the bar.

 But when he saw that the young captain's dark, dull eyes were filled with laughter, he felt relieved at last, and unfastening the laces of his helmet, he took it, and holding it formally in his left hand, placed it on his breast. The face that appeared was almost as young as Asturias'. He was not a regular infantryman attached to the Order, but must have been a peasant boy serving in the Frontier Guard, recruited for a three-year term. In Mongol, which advocates universal military service, all young men must be recruited into some frontier guard at the age of 18 and serve three years of military service.

 His young, sunburned face was simple and peasant-like. Asturias's heart softened.

"The greatest fear of our commanders is that they will be swayed by inaccurate information. What is your name, sir? Where are you from?"

"I am Murrell, Captain. I'm from the village of Rouer in the Boa region, at Fort Talos."

"So, Murrell. I'm sure we'll have word to all the troops soon enough. That's what was decided at the last strategy meeting. So there's no harm in me telling you now that we're aiming for the area around a valley near the middle of Nosferus called Gul Noo."

"Oh my God!"

 Murrell was stunned.

"So, then, did we not enter this land to sweep away the Semites?"

"Of course, you should know that the Semites are part of the mission."

 Astorias said.

"And if we are to penetrate deep into Nosferus, we will not be able to do so without a great battle with the Semites. But our ultimate goal is to reach that valley called Gul-noo and build the fortress of Mongol there ... and make it Mongol's new stronghold in Nosferus to replace the lost castle of Staphorus. To replace the lost castle of Staphorus as Mongol's new stronghold in Nosferus. Good."

"Whoa! This--this is ...."

 To his astonishment, Murrell shouted in his Boer accent.

"It's like a crazy horse on a doll! No, I'm sorry. But then, ..."

 I panicked, looking at Astorias,

"So, then, when the fort is built, we are to fill it, and fight the Semites in the middle of Nosferus, where there is no road, until the end of our term? Oh, no. ..."

"We haven't even decided to go there yet. And for a mere infantryman to complain about what the Golden Scorpion Palace has decided is presumptuous."

 Asturias was about to raise his voice in anger.

 However, he changed his mind when he saw Marel, who immediately became huddled in a sad state.

"Well, good. Cheer up, it's not like we're going to pack it in, we didn't bring any agents with us. If we find the valley successfully, we will leave a party there and hurry back to Arvon, and the fort-building party will go down there again. Rather, our task will be to sweep away the Shemites who stand in the way and to find the Valley. Well, don't fret. You'll be back in Arvon soon enough."

"is ..."

 Despite the encouragement, Murrell's face did not clear.

 That's true, but not unreasonable. The greatest fear for Murrell and many other young men serving in the army is to be assigned to dangerous frontier forts and to die in the middle of their service. Unlike professional soldiers, they have fields back home to return to and old parents to care for. They lament their misfortune at being assigned to a remote place like Talos Castle, near the Kes River.

 Asturias, however, did not have much time to dwell on the disappointment of the soldier as he spoke.

 Asturias is still young. A man of great renown. And two years younger than him, the radiantly beautiful Lady of Mongol is his commander.

 To him, the fact that he had left the safety of Mongol territory and entered the frontier, and the uncertainty and unknown threats that lay ahead, did not seem so hopeless. On the contrary, he is secretly excited at the thought that this is the best chance for him to achieve a real great success, to make his name known throughout the three kingdoms, and to be recognized by a beautiful young lady for his bravery.

 Even this barren wilderness, a territory full of wretched Semites and monstrous creatures, seemed to Asturias' young mind to be a fertile field filled with diamonds in the rough that he had not yet seen.

 Asturias forgot about Marel's pondering and sank back into his earlier pondering.

 At the center of his thoughts, shining brilliantly, was the coldly beautiful appearance of Princess Amneris. Of course, Asturias, who was born into a large noble family in Torus, had had many opportunities to meet the princess before.

 Amneris, however, always appeared at parties in the huge halls of the court, greeted by loud fanfares and cheers, dazzled beyond recognition, covered in jewels, silk and satin, accompanied by his sickly brother, Prince Meir on his left hand, nodding elegantly to the ladies and gentlemen from the balcony. She usually nodded to the ladies and gentlemen from the balcony and left the room a little later. In a manner of speaking, she was like the goddess of the moon, who appears and then disappears into the clouds, at once infinitely beautiful and infinitely distant.

 But-- and Asturias thinks enraptured. But here-- here in Nosferus, she's Iris on the ground.

 There, in a tent where you could throw a stone and it would hit you, she should be sleeping for a while. Her beautiful white face is fluttering with the slumbering expression of a gentle girl who has never revealed anything to anyone, her lips are fluttering and she is breathing faintly and regularly in her sleep, and her breasts are rising and falling gently under the blanket. In her sleep, she is really nothing more than an eighteen-year-old maiden, gentle, gentle, and pure.

 However, once the order to resume the march was sent out, she tied her helmet tightly, hid her beautiful appearance behind her ornate helmet and hooded cloak, and became a dignified person on horseback who stood at the head of the entire army and commanded with the might of a man. He becomes a dignified man on horseback.

More resolute than any man, more fearless than any brave man, more beautiful than any goddess!

 When Asturias knelt down and looked up fearfully, ashamed of the humiliating news of defeat and mission failure that he had to tell, the young lord and lady of Mongol glared at the captain from a distinguished family with eyes that were stern and without mercy or slackness.

(How they must have been looked down upon when they fled back, defeated by Shem and others. What a worthless, useless, coward they must have thought of me.

 She would not be aware of the praise, amazement, and shame that Astorias had secretly offered her.

 However, Asturias, struck by the beauty of the magnificent and harsh morning of Nosferus that was just about to dawn, was trembling in his heart for her.

I want to protect her. Even if it costs me my life... I will not let a single strand of that golden hair fall into ruin. A princess of this youth, in the body of a frail woman, is burdened with a fate unparalleled. She will rule the Central Plains as Empress of Mongol. She is the alter ego of Ilana, goddess of war. A warrior and a lady, fearless to lead 15,000 men across the wilderness... where did this courage and boldness lie in her frail and beautiful form? Do not let even a strand of filthy barbarians touch you! I will protect you no matter what... until you are safely returned to the city of Torus.

 He is still too young and innocent to be the subject of any calculation or scheme that might lead him to take credit, protect the princess, and, if he were to win her heart, sit on her left side and become the heir to the throne of Grand Duke Vlad. He is single-minded.

 Without even realizing such a plan, Asturias is enraptured, his eyes longing for the princess's tent. And what plan, what grand and horrible plan had the Golden Scorpion Palace made of the information brought by that horrible and strange mage who had crossed the valley of death? Nor can it be a question that torments his mind what it means to them, the heroes of Mongol. He went where she went, and fought with her as she commanded, and protected her with his sword: that was all he thought of.

"Oya: ..."

 He suddenly raised his eyes and murmured in astonishment.

"Someone's playing rigolo."

"Well, sir."

 The Marel of the village of Rouet, which had been forgotten in his thoughts, quietly agreed. It is the most common musical instrument in Mongols, a simple flute made of bamboo.

 If someone, even an elegant knight who has come all the way from Mongol for a wedge in the battle, is playing to soothe his ennui, the simple tone of the song will sound.

 Asturias' eyes narrowed, and he was about to say something. But then he thought better of it and remained silent, listening to the nostalgic chant.

 It is not necessarily that he was seized by the thought that he had come a long way. He was still too young to be filled with longing, and rather than Torus, the frontier of Alvon, where he had spent three years, seemed more suitable to his carefree heart.

 He is, instead,

(Mr. Amneris, ...)

 He muttered in his mouth.

"Oh, it's daybreak."

 Suddenly, as if returning to himself, he turned his eyes to the scene in the four directions.

 There was no change in the landscape, which was a wilderness stretching in all directions and lacking in ups and downs, consisting of stones, mosses, and rare dead bushes, but the gray world had a strange and severe beauty that captured the viewer's heart.

 It was a strangely fitting scene with a rather poor raggedy tune that someone was blowing.

Oh?

 Asturias suddenly furrowed his brow slightly. He felt as if something had moved quite a bit in the other direction.

(Is it my imagination? )

 I squinted and looked at it again, but I could not find anything out of the ordinary, just a series of smooth stones and sand.

"Hey--"

 Asturias was about to call out to Marel of Looe, "Did you see anything?

 He noticed that Muriel's face, still uncovered, was white and stained with tears.

Is that a Boer song?

 Boa is a basin region with a warm and mild climate in the south of Torus, and is one of the richest and most fruitful places in Mongol. Thinking of the heart of the young man who had been sent out from his rich and fruitful homeland to guard the castle of Talos, near the dark Kes River, and now had crossed even the Kes River into this wilderness, Asturias gently withdrew from Marel's side.

Oh...

 At that moment, the sound of the flute ceased, as if it had been cut off.

 The wind has died down since last time.

 The air does not move a muscle, and after the sound of the flute fades away, a silence comes overwhelmingly and harshly blocking our ears.

 Asturias watched as Marel looked up and around, and tried to sit up gently. He felt uneasy about standing unprotected in the astonishing brightness of the wilderness, which had somehow become completely clear.

 Marel was unaware of anything. When he turned to look for the master of the flute, his face was as innocent and good-natured as a child's. Asturias was about to call to him to put on his helmet.

 That's when!

 There was a whoosh, a whoosh, something cutting the air, and then--

"Gah!"

 A whistle-like cry escaped from Marel's throat. Asturias stared in amazement for a moment as his body, which had been alive and moving a moment before, whirled in the air, whirled around, and slammed into the white-gray sands of Nosferus. He couldn't quite understand what had just happened. He stared, dumbfounded, at Marel's dead face with its eyes turned up, the arrow with the short feather sticking out of its throat.

 But suddenly he threw himself down on the sand as if rolling, and dodged the next arrow. Immediately, countless arrows poked out like the backs of hedgehogs at the spot where he had just been.

 He drew his sword. He didn't have time to put on a helmet. He knew the arrow was poisoned. Selflessly, he swung his sword like a waterwheel, cutting off the arrows with a flick of his sword, and, rounding his back, ran towards his own troops in retreat.

 But he stopped in his tracks. Suddenly, the sand rose up in front of him, as he was still wondering what had happened to him, and whether a poisoned arrow had sprung from the sky.

 No--no, it wasn't.

 It was a hairy barbarian resembling a monkey, who crawled on his belly and spread out a camouflage net of desert sand sprinkled all over his body on a cloth smeared with glutinous rice cakes, and as soon as he came within range of the arrow, he threw it away.

 It was as if the earth had split in two right in front of Asturias' eyes, and from there, the bones of the earth had come pouring out, one after the other. In the blink of an eye, the clear, desolate desert, which should have been nothing but white, gray, and the blue of the sky, was filled with tiny creatures gushing from the depths of the earth, with red and blue faces, bared dirty teeth, brown and black body hair, and strange smells and shrieks.

"Aye!"

"Ea, ea, aye!"

"Ea, ea, ea!"

 Asturias gasped.

 But the next moment,

"Surprise attack. It's Shem's ambush! Meet him, meet him!"

 He was running, screaming. Soon, he was surrounded by Semites.

 It was only then that he became aware of the deafening rantings of the barbarians, the clanging of the urgent gongs, the battle cries, and the terrible battles that were already raging on all sides. The battle was already raging on all sides.

 He let out an involuntary groan. The Shemites had not come from a single place. They had already covered all sides.