Tonight is the night that determines everything.
Something will end tonight, whether it's me, us, or even them.
This is the last moment for all of us, death is the fate that is clearly displayed before us.
I stood under the onslaught of fireballs at Liendholm, the green canyon which is now a massacre. At present, a determination war is taking place. Saxon troops known for their merciless kebarbaran and cruelty, tried to seize the territory we loved from the kingdom of Lothrix, where I served as an ordinary soldier.
However, it seems that serving is not the right word.
At present, the battle has gone on late into the night. The two camps did not give a full attack at all. We thought that the enemy's fighting spirit and morale had been drained because it was clear they were only a few barbarians, not trained troops like us. Apparently it was just a trick. The Saxons dressed in black issued their ultimate weapons; dozens of fireball throwers hidden behind thick trees behind them and began to rain down on us.
I only pray that someday we can return to our comfortable barracks as usual.
"As the arrows and their balls fall from the sky, stay on and don't leave your position!" A sergeant exclaimed on his horse beside me, Frederick's name. His thick mustache is his trademark. Shortly thereafter, he immediately lunged forward towards the bustle in front while brandishing a spear. A moment later, he just disappeared into the excitement.
Courageous indeed, willing to die for the kingdom he loves. Unlike me, I'm just a thin, timid young man. After running away from my house thousands of kilometers from this place and coming to apply as a lowly soldier, I think I will spend my life having fun and joking all day long. Apparently not. When faced with the real situation, your mental, heart, and soul will definitely shrink.
All morning, afternoon and evening, I don't kill anyone from the other side. I just ran around here and there, not caring about the weight of the armor that weighed on my body or the sweat that flooded my skin. I'm really not ready. I'm just a loser. When the distinctive shouts of the Saxons roared and the roar of wooden machines came from a distance, that's where I knew that we would all be finished.
We who had previously raised our proud flag banners which had a bright yellow sun while cheering happily, suddenly scattered and dispersed just like that. Our enemies are above the leaves now.
A helmet just shot and rolled at my feet. Inside is a severed head with a familiar mustache. His gaping mouth bleed.
My knees relaxed, my body slumped and if I didn't support it with my rusty sword, I would fall and faint.
I wasn't sure if I should call it luck or bad luck, when I saw my friend, Nolan, taking refuge in a safe ditch behind me while waving to call me. The mound of high-explosive land is enough to hide its position. He shivered there, holding his mud-stained sword instead of blood.
"I will wait here." He whispered when I sat next to him. This person must be crazy. Escape from his team to save himself. Yeah, but what's the difference with myself? We are both together, both losers. And whether I have to be relieved or frightened to think when finally there are people besides myself who only think of themselves and run away.