Episode 16 : The Fire Trap - Part 2

 Elle is still and quietly looking up at the old captain's face. There is a strange light in his black, round eyes that makes no sense whatsoever.

 Count Mars came out of his deep pensive state and smiled at Elle.

"Go ahead."

 He raised his hand and commanded.

"Go, you must prepare to march. Don't worry, Mongol is undefeated. Even if the old man never sees the Two Reed or Torus again, you young men will soon return to the land of Mongol full of life."

 Elle looked back at Count Mars with the same strange look in her eyes and went back to her horse. But he did not do so for long.

 Immediately, he seemed to have forgotten the current scene, curled up beside the horse, raised his leather cloak over his head, dusted the sand from the mattress, wrapped himself in it, and fell fast asleep. Knowing that tomorrow morning would be a general attack, he needed to sleep and regain his strength. Soon, the whole of Mongol's army fell asleep with a low, still agitated murmur.

 And before the dawn of day, they were awake, full of vigor, writing their rations.

 The fatigue of the long march has disappeared from their dusty faces, as if it had been wiped away by the thought that the time has finally come for their toil to be rewarded.

 It was the same morning that the leopard-headed warrior Guin greeted the old wolf king of Dogtooth Mountain.

 Of course, there is no way for the Mongol army to know that. They believe that Guin is still with the Semites, leading them in preparation for a surprise attack, and they are burning with hatred for him, secretly hoping to raise his head and take credit for it today.

 Before dawn, the 5,000 Knights of Mongol, the 5,000 infantry and crossbow troops were all ready for battle and lined up under their respective platoon leaders.

 Led by the platoon leaders, the company commanders line up. At the head of the line are the generals with their respective SS units.

 The sands of Nosferus were dyed in the four colors of their armor: blue, red, black, and white, and the expeditionary force of Mongols, now in formation, had forgotten that they were a third less in number than when they had stood far away on the banks of the Kes, and that even their armor, headgear, and cloaks were soaked in white dust. All of this was forgotten, and he looked as he had when he set out on his expedition.

"Quiet!"

 The voices of the captains sounded. The rumbling and whining of the horses gradually died down, and the air became still,

"Long live Your Highness!"

"Long live the Right Honourable General!"

 Princess Amneris, Princess of Mongol, General of the Right, and Commander-in-Chief of the Expeditionary Force, appeared in front of him, greeted by a huge cheer.

 The figure of a man standing on a high platform with his feet lightly on the ground was clearly visible to all the 10,000 generals. On either side of him, Vron and Rindt stood guard. Amneris's pure white armor glittered in the morning sun.

 But even more brilliant than the jeweled armor was the wonderful golden cascade of hair that fell over her shoulders without her helmet.

 The ten thousand soldiers of Mongol were stunned. They were transfixed by the noble and beautiful figure of the Goddess of Victory, who seemed to have come to life and to be in motion, with an aura of dignity in her beauty.

"My brave soldiers of Mongol!"

 Amneris opened his mouth. His voice was clear and harsh, and it seemed as if it could reach every corner of the desert.

"Thank you for your patience. I'm sure you were frustrated by the Semites' repeated surprise attacks, wondering why we didn't launch a counterattack.

 But the wait is over. Soldiers, take up your swords. Do not fear Nosferus any longer. Soldiers, the heroes of Mongol deserve an attack. Strike down the Semites, smite the barbarians and raise the banner of Mongol over this land!"

"Oh!"

 From the mouths of 10,000 people, cries burst forth at once, and the dunes were filled with excitement.

"Long live Mongol!"

"Long live Mongol!"

"Long live Your Highness!"

"Long live Your Highness!"

"Victory to Mongol!"

"Glory to Mongol!"

 A huge cheer explodes.

 Amneris listened with satisfaction. Then, with a flutter of his cloak, he leaps down from the platform without waiting for the maidservant to offer the step. Feldric the White Knight comes up to him.

"Feldrick."

"is."

"We'll leave as soon as we're ready. To remain here and wait for Shem would unnecessarily weaken the morale of our troops, which has been soaring. As we have agreed, we will march eastward and destroy the Semites as soon as they appear, and have our scouts search for the location of their village."

"I know what I'm doing."

"Tell Mars Squad, the spearhead, to begin moving immediately. Who's the new target today?"

"At the Black Knight of Tanguard."

"All right. I'll get ready."

 As Amneris walked, his magnificent hair curled up and swung about as if it were a living thing in itself, shining brightly. It is indeed beautiful, Feldrick thought secretly as he watched her walk away.

It's definitely worth a look. But even so, a company of infantrymen under a white knight has been expended to carry the princess' soft bed, rugs, change of clothes, and special food on this arduous and exhausting expedition. And how many days' worth of water for how many soldiers are used at one time in the midst of this desert to shave their white limbs, which are not covered with dust, and to comb their loincloths?

 Amneris turned. Feldric panicked and ran for the messenger. No one knew better than Feldrick, his aide, that however feminine he might be in some respects, in others he was a man of a temper that more than made up for it all.

 In the meantime, the first Mars team was already moving like a giant blue snake, loosely.

 Everywhere there are traces of the night's work, such as the remains of bonfires and the remains of discarded objects. Since they were no longer the pursuers but the pursued, there was no need for them to cover their tracks.

 Erl of Argon saw the head of the pack begin to move and rushed to jump on the horse. He frowned and stared at the dangling vasja fruit in his hand, which he was nibbling.

"This must be the Vashakum with the curse of the Doll."

 He was mumbling.

"It's so hot and spicy it stings my tongue. What kind of rations do they give you?"

"Well, it's dried fruit. It's not as good as freshly picked fruit from the famous Audain."

"If it's so bad, why don't you just throw it away?"

 My colleagues are saying. Elle frowned and stared at it for a moment, as if it were a waste of time, but then, realizing that it was almost their turn to move, she rushed to his horse and, as if on a dare, shot the fruit into the fire that lay beside it.

 It seemed to have been soaked to the bone. Immediately, it burst with a popping sound and blew out a puff of smoke. The smoke became a beautiful orange serpent, and rose straight up into the blue sky.

"Oh my God."

 Elle looked dumbfounded.

"Not only is it a vasja fruit, but it's a wormwood fruit. Are you kidding? I'll die if I eat that. I'll have to complain."

"Something must have happened and the messenger got mixed up."

 His colleagues laughed and soothed Elle's indignation. Smoke billowed from the air.

"What should I do with him? The smoke won't stop unless we water it down and let the berries dry up. The enemy will know where we are. But water..."

 My colleagues panicked and turned a blind eye. We're in the middle of the desert. Losing even a drop of water could mean the difference between life and death later on.

"Never mind. Let it go. We don't care if they find us. On the contrary, we'd be grateful if Shem could find the smoke and come and save us the trouble."

 One of the blue knights soothed El. They were already almost behind the line.

 Seeing the smoke, the company commander came to see what was going on, but when he asked him why, he laughed and ordered him to leave it alone. In any case, once the smoke had been cleared, the wreath would collapse by itself.

 The army of Mongol, from the officers to the infantry, seemed to be somewhat brave and vigorous. The only one who did not look very cheerful was probably Count Mars, but he was not so cheerful as to be noticed by his men. They went on singing the songs of Mongols at the top of their voices.

 The orange smoke, like the water snake of Dunedin, continued to rise high into the sky behind the Mongol army, which had begun to move in anticipation of it.