Episode 8 : The Valley of the Id - Part 2

 From left to right, the dust is slowly narrowing the space between them like two harpoons trying to swallow the helpless prey in their midst.

"Guin - you're done."

 Linda says in a small voice. There are tears in her eyes.

"They'll take you back again-- this time you won't escape. They'll take you back to Torus and execute you. I hope the demons of Torus are proud enough to give the last two members of the House of Paro the peaceful end they deserve and the honor they deserve.

 But Remus and I will remember you until the moment you breathe your last. Guin, you gave yourself to fight for our survival after your country was destroyed... and all the other things you did for us.

 And, Istvan."

 Linda turned around. Her violet eyes clashed with the obsidian ones she had been looking at in horror.

"Thank you... thank you so much for risking your life to save us from Mongol's tent. We're sad we couldn't give you any of the rewards you promised. I'm sure you would've looked great in the fur-trimmed robe of a holy knight. I don't care what you say or do... at least you'll live. Please."

 Istvan suddenly blinked his eyes in a very panicked manner and began to mumble something like, "I don't know anything.

 But it was Guin's firm voice that interrupted him.

"Don't give up hope. I've told you before, children of Paro. At the last moment, don't give up hope and fight. You don't have to pick up a sword, just don't give up the fight!"

"And, but--"

 Remus gasps and says something.

 That's when.

"Wait."

 Suddenly, Istvan's unusually tense voice interrupted his words.

"Wait--something's wrong with ... something!"

"What's ..."

"That--that squad!"

 For a moment, the twins almost thought that the Valakian warrior had finally gone mad with despair.

 The mercenaries, who had been exhausted, suddenly sprang up in their saddlebags and began to laugh as if they were going to break their bodies.

"Istvaan!"

 Linda screams. Guin's eyes narrow suddenly.

"So, yeah! I didn't know that! This guy--this guy ..."

 Istvan gasped and screamed, and struck the saddle-crucible like a madman in a sudden leap from black despair to mad hope.

"Ah!"

 Suddenly, Guin's mouth also let out a crazy cry.

"Guin! What the--"

"It's Suni!"

 was Guin's bellowing answer.

"Hey, run--just throw yourself into the saddle, and if they shoot a crossbow at you from behind, leave it to chance, and run, even if it kills you, east!"

"Hi-ho!"

 Before you can ask, Istvan's foot kicks the horse in the stomach.

"Hold on tight, kids!

"S--snip is ... what ... snip is ..."

 Linda still doesn't understand. Istvan turned back a moment ago, shouting as he drove his horse madly in the direction of the dust,

"Suni came back with a Semitic warrior to save us! Ha, that was a close one! That thing was even more dangerous than the mouth of Biggumaus!"

"Well, Suni!"

 And then Linda couldn't say anything else.

 Now Linda, clinging to horse's neck in front of the saddle, and Remus, clinging to Istvan's waist, could clearly see the advancing army in a cloud of dust. The reason it seemed so far away was because they were Shemites, only half the size of the Gora army, and they were standing or walking. Istvan kicked the horse again just before it fell.

 The great army of Shem - a small band of soldiers, their faces smeared with tannin, their backs covered with leather machetes, bows made of vines, and short arrows smeared with poison, and adorned with strange furs and bird feathers.

 In the beginning of it, a small figure springs up and rolls towards you.

"Suni!!! "

 Linda screamed and jumped off the horse. She fell to her knees in the sand below, but quickly sprang up again and ran. The sand sinks her feet into the sand, and she does not care if she gets caught on a rock.

"Leanda!"

 Suni screamed too. Her small, ape-like, faithful face is crumpled and stained with tears.

"Sniff!"

 Behind them, the crossbows of the Mongol soldiers whistled and dusted on the sand, but no one cared. Linda's outstretched hand finally found Suni's small, hairy hand, and the two girls fell to the sand in a tight embrace!

"Oh, Suni, Suni, Suni: ..."

"Linda, Linda!"

 They could not speak a word to each other, except to call each other's names in a fierce chorus. Though they were of different races, and could not have been more different in appearance and upbringing, the two girls, both still young, embraced each other tightly in the sands of Nosferus, and discovered how much they loved each other, how much one worshipped the other, and how fervent their friendship was. They found how much they loved each other, how one worshipped the other, and how the other had a deep friendship. Even though they could not speak to each other, they could communicate with each other.

"Suni--oh, Suni, thank you, Suni, my little friend!"

 Linda pressed her cheek against Suni's clean little head and whimpered.

"Arla, alfe, eemir, al, eratoo! "

 The Suni said in an agitated tone, and drew himself up, and pointed to a large force behind him. At that moment Istvan sprang from his horse, which had broken his leg in a cloud of smoke, and came running with Remus.

"Three hundred in all, I'd say. Two hundred Mongols, well, with me and Guin, we should be able to manage that."

 He says it all with a toothy grin, as if it's to his credit that he got Shem's reinforcements.

"My noble lord."

 Linda twitched at the sudden call.

 Suni, away from Linda, points happily to the little Semite. The Semite, who at first glance appears to be of high rank - perhaps a chief - is quite old, and his hair has turned white in many places, and his speech is slurred and almost inarticulate, He spoke a language that Linda and the others could understand.

"We thank you for rescuing the daughter of our tribe... and we ask that you strike them down and stay in our village."

"Well - I'm ..."

"I am the Great Chief of Rak, named Lothor."

 I wonder who taught him, but Nakahara's slurred speech was polite.

"In the meantime, please enter the rear choke and rest."

"I am Linda, prophetess and little queen of Paro. This is Remus, my brother and the only legitimate heir of Paro. Istvan of Valachia, our ally. We accept this welcome with gratitude."

 With the perfect etiquette of the Crystal Palace, Linda dropped to one knee, took the hand of the Great Chief of Shem, and bowed.

"Hey, hey! This is no time to be playing court with a monkey!"

 Istvan's loud voice, as if in desperation.

"Look at him! With the legendary Silenos' double-edged sword, the leopard head is rampaging alone against two hundred knights of Mongol!"

 Linda and the others came to their senses and looked over.

 And breathtaking.

 There, a terrible battle was already unfolding. Preoccupied with the reunion with Suni, Linda and the others did not realize that Guin had not escaped after them towards Shem's troops with his horse's head.

 Instead, Guin had his horse put on, held his greatsword aloft in his right hand, and rushed into the midst of the two hundred elite Mongols, accompanied by the Leopard's battle roar!

"Whoa!"

"Fight, fight! The enemy has one rider!"

"Don't hit the crossbow. You'll hit a friendly!"

 The army of Mongol could not hold back the only warrior who leaned in like a cone, and fearing the momentum of the demon god, once flattened to the left and right, but immediately the splendid captain Asturias raised his red ensign and continued to shout, and gathered his troops.

 Guin's great sword strikes the knights horizontally and vertically, knocking them off the horse and sending them sprawling to the ground.

"I'd make a live bird if I could. Don't depress the crossbow!"

 Asturias ranted in frustration. If it had not been for the duchess's strict orders to bring him back alive, he would not have had to do anything to him. If it had not been for the two white knights, Sime and Feldric, who were at his side as chaperones, he would have said that he had resisted, even if the princess had ordered him to do so. He would have screamed, "Kill her!

 Although it is said that he is only one horseman, that one horseman is as many as the ten horsemen of Mongol. Whenever the legendary Silenos swung his sword with a bloodbath and a shout, there would be a scream and a spray of blood, and the horse would be knocked off his feet and fall, and the Red Knights, who were proud of their valour, would flinch and give way.

 It made the young Astorias' heart even more furious.

"Stay back! The enemy is only one rider. Cover him and take him in."

 But in the midst of Asturias's angry shouts, another warrior in black armor, his cheeks bared, rode into the field of battle on foot,

"I'll help you!"

 Shouting, he sprang at the first knight and dragged him from the horse, striking him with his dagger. With the agility of a black leopard, he snatched the sword from the horse and jumped on it, and immediately this knight also fought with great vigour.

"Guin, you're okay!

"Oh."

 In the midst of the two hundred knights, the two mad warriors danced their swords from side to side as they approached with their horses, and finally came face to face.

"Guin!"

"Oh!"

"That's the first time I've ever fought alongside you!"

"Yeah."

 The elite were surrounded by only two horsemen, and they faltered before them like a surging wave.

 And then--as if in a haze of clouds, a large contingent of Semites came screaming down the hill!

"Aie, aie, aie!"

"Ee, ee!"

"It's Shem!"

"Intercept the Shemites!"

 Immediately, unrest spread among the Mongols.

 At last, Asturias, who had been standing back as commander, lost all patience.

"For the sake of Mongol!"

 As soon as he had shouted for help, he gave a flick of the whip to the belly of the stag or furbearer horse on which he was riding, and ran forward to join the fight. Sime and Feldrick, who were standing by his side, had no time to restrain him.

 It resembled two giant sand dwarf worms approaching each other from the left and the right, roaring viciously, and then finally colliding and tangling each other with all their might. Rather, it was more like a swarm of fierce, whitish-brown giant ants filling up a huge, red sandworm.

 The ape-men of Shem darted between the horses and blew their poisoned arrows at the slightest weaknesses in the armour, such as the eyes and the throat. Each time, the knights screamed and fell down from their horses, and the ape-men rushed upon them and choked them to death.

 Of course, the swords of Asturias and the other heroes of Mongol beheaded, cut down, and cut down countless Semites from above. The Semites, however, were able to overcome their disadvantage in height by the teamwork method of fighting, in which one of them put his small foot on the shoulder of another, and the one who used it as a stepping stone to climb up to his companions jumped down from the top to the horse. He was protected by his armor, so he burrowed into the chests of the knights like a tick and clung to them.

 Seen from as high as Lure's red Chariot, it must have looked like a smear of living, churning blood, an amoeba stretching and shrinking as it breathed, strewn across the white and brown wilderness of Nosferus. The screams, exclamations, and shrieks continued without end,

"Al, Alura, Alfetu!"

"Eeeeew!"

"For the sake of Mongol!"

"For the sake of Mongol! Hoist Shem!"

 His voice, which was so tangled up in his tongue, is now on the verge of breaking.

 And look--

"Feldrick!"

 The white knight Sime whispered to his colleague, who was standing back cunningly.

"I'm afraid this is not in our favor."

"Indeed. The enemy is not only outnumbered, but also has the strength of those two brave men as its cutthroats."

"You Leopard, you're a fearsome swordsman!"

"Aside from the leopard man, that other black warrior, that armor looks like it belongs to Gora, even though it doesn't have a crest."

"If so, you're a traitor. It's a shame."

"Oops--that was close."

 Feldrick flung his whip from side to side at the Semites who happened to try to come at him,

"At any rate, this confirms that Lord Amneris' fears were true. The Semites showed up to save Paro's orphaned son. Paro is in league with Shem."

"Then this is a grave danger to Mongol."

"Indeed. We shall return immediately and report to the princess what has happened."

"But Asturias is--?"

"It is unavoidable, the fate of Mongol may depend on it."

 Feldrick and Sime looked at each other, nodded once to each other, and turned their heads to the west.

"Hi!"

 The whip is up.

 In the midst of the sword and blood battle, it was the Leopard-headed warrior who noticed that the two white knights were about to abandon the battlefield.

"Wait! I won't!"

 Immediately aware of the intentions of the two horsemen, Guin shouted and charged after them, throwing aside the red knight who was rushing towards him.

"Mercenaries! Don't let them leave. I'm going to call for reinforcements!"

"I know what I'm doing!"

 Istvan, too, followed Guin with his horse. But when he saw that he could not finish the desperate Mongols around him quickly enough, he raised his sword in the manner of a Valakian, drew one arm behind his shoulder, and threw it like a spear.

 His aim was not misplaced, and the greatsword plunged into the buttocks of Sime's white horse, which was running behind him. The horse springs up and Sime is knocked to the rocks in midair.

 Istvan runs to finish him off. Feldric did not even look back to see his ally's end. His figure grew smaller and smaller as he made his way toward Alvon Castle on the far side of the Kes.

"Now there's one!"

 After Sime's death, when Istvan tried to catch up with Feldrick.

"I'm your opponent!"

 A horseman of the Red Knight, who was probably about the same age and height as Istvan, and even had black hair and shining black eyes peeping out from under his helmet, suddenly put on a horse and stood between Feldrick and Istvan.

"Get out of the way, scum!

"I am Astorius, Captain of the Hunt! You, too, are a traitor who wears the armor of Gora and treats the barbarians as if they were your own!"

"What? Astrius? Astorias, the Red Lion of Gora, is that him?"

 Istvan rushed forward, and from beneath his cheeks, which were drawn down even more deeply, he fixed his eyes on the other man. A youthful, handsome face, as firm and sallow as his own, with lively dark eyes and short black hair, which, if he had been dressed in the same manner with his cheeks down, might have made the two men indistinguishable.

 However, in his red armor and captain's helmet, his face had the dignity of an aristocrat and the fire of loyalty that Istvan did not have, which made the Valakian-born mercenary with lustrous eyes and a mouth twisted with irony feel that he was a man he did not like.

"Asturias! All right, I've got your head!"

 As soon as he had shouted, Istvan forgot about Feldrick, who had already disappeared into the dust, picked up his sword and charged at the young nobleman.

"Oh, yeah!"

 The young warriors respond with a resounding "yes" and draw their swords together. The swords of young men who are similar to each other clash with each other, and blue sparks fly.

 Twice, thrice they cut each other's throats. But the blood drained slightly from Istvan's face: Istvan's skillless swordsmanship, which he had learned on his own in order to survive on the battlefield, and Astorias' sword, which had been drilled into him from an early age by the best teacher in the court of Torus. But when all other conditions are equal, the regular will surely one day overcome the evil.

 As they fought each other for two or three rounds, the Valakian pirates began to be visibly aware of their disadvantage. They were tired and exhausted from their continuous adventures.

 His hands began to slip with sweat, and every time he caught Asturias' sword, numbness began to run down his arms and into his shoulders.

"What's the matter with you, you can't take the head off the lion of Arvon!"

 Asturias, on the contrary, began to be convinced of his own superiority. But if you look around you, you can't help but immediately notice that Shem and his men are now overwhelming the Mongol army by 70%, not to mention their superiority - but Astrias is still not yet 20 years old, and his name is Gora. He was young enough to be more concerned with his own battle than with his duties as a commander.

"Tell me your name. My sword is not for nameless riffraff. Name yourself, coward."

 Asturias shouted in triumph.

"Guin! Guin!"

 Istvan, by the way, has been earning his living on the battlefield since he was four years old and is a realist who has no scruples about this kind of knightly justice and pride. As soon as he sees that he can't win, he calls out loudly for help.

 Around the leopard-headed warrior, there was no one left who dared to stand. Guin took advantage of the horse and approached. Istvan is grateful and scurries away behind him.

"You're a coward with a new trick up your sleeve!"

 Asturias stood his ground, but this time it was the other way around.

 Guin's strength, skill, and stamina all exceeded that of the young officer by an order of magnitude. Asturias didn't last more than a couple of rounds. He was knocked off his sword and fell from his horse, and Guin's huge frame sprang down and held him in place.

 Asturias gasped as a sword was held to his throat.

"Kill. Stab him now!"

 He groans, his cheeks flushed with humiliation. Guin stares down at his youthful, sincere face, his sword still at his side.

"You are the devil incarnate, who brings misfortune to Gora! Quickly, kill the bravest man in Arvon!"

 Asturias cries out in grief, while the mercenaries behind him rant and rave about giving him what he wants.

 And you don't care,

"My name is Guin."

 The leopard-headed warrior said gravely.

"Tell the rebellious Lady of Mongol. Do not touch the barbarians and monsters of Nosferus who live in peace, or I will become Mongol's eternal enemy."

 Then he draws his sword and helps Astorias up and moves back.

 The young man stared at the monster in disbelief. He could not believe that his opponent had let him go without inflicting a single wound while he had the absolute advantage. He clutched his hands to his throat, his eyes downcast in a miserable sense of defeat, and staggered away to horse.

 Eventually, they'll say, "Fall back! Fall back!"

 When Astorius gave the humiliating order in a muffled voice, only fifty or so Gora soldiers managed to gather to obey it.