Around the outer wall of the Garlist Royal City. There was an unmistakable battle between the Garleist army and the heraldic army, and the demonic roar of the battle was there.
Blood stains the white earth and flesh bursts with heat. It's an everyday occurrence on the battlefield.
On the battlefield where the armies of man and demon clashed, it was the demonic army that had the upper hand. The demons may be outnumbered, but each one of them is a threat. There are not many people who can win against them alone. Kobolds are much stronger than humans. The skin of a rogue is stronger than rock.
We're outnumbered. Humans can't easily gain the upper hand. The sight of these demons devouring humans, trampling their blood as they marched, seemed like a nightmare of the worst kind.
--Doh, doh.
In the middle of the nightmare, the sound exploded. A roar that shook his guts and seemed to strike his skin directly.
That's not the sound of magic. It was rougher and more violent than that. At the same time as the roar, Saint Mattia saw blood explode in the distance. A slight wave of agitation spread through the demon army.
Then, as if on cue, Mattia raised her spear high into the sky. A few moments later, a violent roar sounded twice. Each time, blood seeped into the demon army. The momentum of the fiery enemy weakened.
...... Is this what you call a hidden hand for the Garleist? That's a big reveal. It's not the most exciting thing.
I'm not sure what to make of that. He is wearing leather armor and a sword, but his expression is somewhat stiff.
It seems that the smell of the battlefield does not agree with her skin. Her lips also seemed to sway somewhat.
Mattia lowered his arm and said as he watched the heraldic soldiers march below.
"Yeah. They're just shooting large rocks with the force of exploding objects. It's unusual.
Stone cannon. A cannon made of iron is filled with large stones, and the explosive force of the gunpowder is used to shoot them out. To be honest, the outburst of gunpowder and the smoke it emits are a nuisance, and it is not cheap to make. If you ask me if it's useful, I'd tilt my head.
But it's not a bad way to let people know there's something out there. There are local nobles who are cooperating with us in this battlefield. We should show off our strength to them.
Looking at the Battle of Sarnio with both eyes, Mattia came to an understanding.
There were many heroes in that battle, but the one that stood out to Mattia was Fialat's violent battlefield magic.
The battlefield that had been in Mattia's mind up to that point was one where people engaged each other with spears and swords to decide who would win.
It is not a place where you can be unilaterally swept away. There is blood and flesh and intelligent tactics that mesh.
But what about that thing in Phialert? It was an overwhelming tyranny where tactics no longer mattered. Like Kalia's brute force, Erdis's spell. Their fangs are too sharp to engage.
Mattia knew that day. They might no longer be fighting each other on the battlefield. The battlefield might become nothing more than a place where overwhelming storms swept each other away.
Then we must obtain that storm no matter what the cost. Whoever can do that will hold the future battlefield in their hands.
That sounds deafening. How long can this go on?
It's over. It's not that useful.
However, after reading many documents and obtaining the cooperation of the Garristian nobility, this projectile cannon was finally built. It's just something I picked up from a past idea that was discarded because it could be replaced by a sorcerer.
And its usability is terrible. The projectile cannon we can build now can only fire a large stone once. When it finishes ejecting the stone, the heat builds up to the point where it cannot be moved properly, and it is often damaged. You could call it degraded magic, and that would be that.
Still, there's a point. It should. To give form to the accumulated knowledge and form the path of the sigil. That is the true purpose of heraldry.
--I will use my wisdom to overcome the demons. I'll show you how.
Mattia is a zealot of wisdom. Deep down he believes that wisdom can get him through all kinds of difficulties.
It is the same with his management. Mattia says as he lightly grasps the golden sigil in his slender fingers. The violent sound finally ended.
The cards have now been cut. The rest is as planned.
The only thing left to do now is how to defeat the demon army and enter the capital. I've made my move. Then there is no choice but to exert yourself.
Mattia, astride his horse, tilted his spear lightly. She could see the banner of the heraldic army was on the offensive. I'm not sure if I'll be able to do it. I'm sure you'll be able to find something that works for you.
That's what it means to be a saint, to be a banner. Mattia took a moment to look at Philos beside him. His face was still frozen in place, as if he were frozen in place.
When Mattia whispered his name, Philos bit his lip and replied.
It's okay. I just don't know if you know this, but I've never won a battle like this. Even in Thurnio, it was that bad. I hope my luck doesn't take a turn for the worse.
Philos said, with unmistakable self-mockery. Hearing her rare whimper, Mattia knew what she was thinking.
In the back of Philos's eyelids, the defeat at Cernio and the subsequent rebellion of Roseau probably flashed. It is an invisible weight strapped to her limbs.
Defeat can easily bring a person to the bottom of the earth. To the point where you think you can't get up anymore. No, it is probably rare for a person to be able to get up from that.
Mattia believes that it is not a matter of weakness or strength, but a matter of innate nature. There are those who can fight and those who cannot, just as there are those who are heraldic. There are those who can stand up and those who cannot.
Mattia opened his mouth and closed it for a moment, lost for words. Philos is the one who can move forward. But right now, she has a blackness in her stomach. If you say the wrong words, she'll swallow more than she should and move on.
That's not good.
What would he say? With that thought in mind, Mattia opened his mouth again.
...... No man has ever won until he has won for the first time. Philos-Treit.
The words leaked out naturally. Mattia felt his shoulders relax.
That's right. He had spent his whole life just running and hiding until he had won in the walled city of Galuamaria. I endured the stones of persecution, and managed to eat myself alive day after day without being seen. But still I had to face it.
Because I am a saint. Even if it cost me my life, I had to keep running until I won.
That's why I'm here now. Mattia takes a deep breath.
If you've been defeated, it was for this day. To crown this day with victory and glory.
Mattia continued, comparing himself to the Philos of old. I felt something hot go down my throat. She squeezes the reins of her horse.
"In King's Landing, Lugis will be wielding a sword for our victory. He's stepping through something reckless again. Without listening to a word. Then we have a duty to fight for his victory--or would you prefer a mere decoration, Philos-Treit?
Philos' eyes twisted slightly at the words, and then he opened his mouth with a feverish light. It was as if something heavy that had been tangled in his limbs had blown away.
"Just kidding. I'm not a very convenient person. You'll have to prepare yourself.
He said with a scheming smile like the one he gave Lugis.