*

　Early in the morning - an injured man passes in front of Roy's eyes.
　Some turn over as if exhausted, others bow their heads lightly.
　Of course, there are those who stare at him with eyes tinted with hatred.
　It can't be helped, I think.
　As an assistant corps commander, I allowed them to beat the hell out of them.
　They have the right to hold a grudge.
　No, you want them to resent you.
　The wounded who pass in front of him get on the wagon with the help of the ordinary soldiers.
　No one stared at me after I got on the wagon.
　From the camp to the wagon.
　It's only a short distance, but that may have sapped their strength.
　Roy leaned on his spear and watched the corpses being carried away on a stretcher.
　Ordinary soldiers stacked the corpses on wagons.
　They seem to take some care, but I think it's like luggage.
　That's when the corpse looked at us.
　The head must have just moved as it was being loaded.
　Or rigor mortis.
　But to Roy it seemed to be the will of the dead.
　Why didn't you stop me, I wondered.
　Why didn't I just stand by and watch?
　I just wanted to live a better life than I do now.
　I felt like I was pleading with him.
　A small exhale.
　An illusion.
　The dead don't get angry, they don't mourn, they don't hate.
　Death is the end.
　I'm sure I understand that, but the feeling doesn't follow.

"...phew.

　Once again, I let out a sigh.
　It seems more draining to see the dead off.
　Maybe it's because it reminds me of my mother who was killed.

'Well that's a bummer.
How are you doing?
I'm talking to you.

　Roy replied to Richard, who was standing next to him before he knew it.
　I don't feel like I'm going to be consumed, I'm going to be consumed, he said, changing his perception.
　Otherwise, he wouldn't have noticed Richard's presence.

'How's it going over there?'
The casualties have been collected and treated.
Did you get the body back?
It's continuing, but...

　Richard clammed up.
　I'd rather give my soldiers a break if I'm going to put in the effort to collect the bodies.
　Maybe that's what he's thinking.

'Sorry, but you'll have to keep retrieving the bodies.
Yes, sir.
I'm sorry.
No, I think it's a natural feeling.

　Richard chuckled and gave a huff.

'What's wrong?'
Oh, no, I mean...

　Richard clammed up, as if it was really hard to say.

'If something is bothering you, tell me.
''Ah, yes, normally, wounded soldiers are admitted to the hospital in the Imperial City...''

　Richard was muzzled again.
　He was right, the wounded soldiers were to be transported to the imperial capital and placed in a hospital.
　However, the wounded that they were transporting this time were not regular soldiers.
　They are mercenaries gathered by Treasury Director Bawties with money - vagrants.
　They are probably thinking that they will be thrown out when they arrive in the imperial capital.

''Don't worry about that. Me and Argena wrote a letter in our joint names. They've fought for the Empire, and they want to be treated like regular soldiers.
Okay.

　Richard looked relieved.
　I thought he didn't care about the wounded, but I guess I was wrong.
　It's not high on my priority list, but I'd like to help if I can.
　I guess that's how it is.

I'd like to say hello to the person in charge, just in case. You didn't go to military school together, did you?
Unfortunately,

　Richard gave him a troubled look.
　It's a shame, even as Roy.
　I could have asked for more or less of a connection.
　I should have taken more care of people's relationships if this was going to happen.
　Well, it's too late now.
　In the first place, inheriting the Countess Akbens family was something of a mistake in itself.
　The legitimate successors died one after another, so it was only because I, a bastard, was given a bowl.
　If he and his brothers had had children, he would have been an officer while being scorned by his superiors.
　No, I would have been a bouncer in a tavern.
　Because he thought like that, he despised the relationship compared to his peers in military school.
　The current situation was self-inflicted.
　But at the time, he thought it was the right thing to do.
　If I could go back to the past, I would make a similar mistake myself.
　And I would regret it if I had to do this.
　Maybe we are creatures who make mistakes because we think it's the right thing to do and struggle to keep the books straight.

"Mister Roy?
Oh, yeah, what?
'No, you seemed to be in a daze. If you don't mind, I'd like to go say hello?
'It's not like that. I was just being a bit pensive.
Pensive?
Well, you know, even a guy like me has to think about things.

　Richard said as if confused, and Roy cowered lightly.

'You take care of the body,'
Yes, sir.
You're on it.

　Roy tapped Richard on the shoulder and headed for the front of the convoy.
　He checks to see if the wagon has a wooden stick with a white cloth tied to it, just in case it is installed.
　It looks like they didn't forget to install the stones.
　After a while, we reached the front of the line.
　The captain of the supply team - Peter was waiting there on his horse.
　His complexion was pale.
　He was beyond pale and had an earthen complexion.
　They had burned 40 percent of their provisions and were nowhere to be found.
　He was not worried about what kind of punishment he would receive.

''Hey!''
....

　I call out to him, but Peter is staring forward in a daze.
　I'm not so sure he's here.

"Hey!
"-Oh!

　I called out to him again, and Peter fell off his horse.
　There are some members of the supply team around, but no one is laughing.
　It's probably because they are dimly aware of what kind of punishment he's going to receive.

'Are you all right?'
Oh, yes, I'm fine.

　Peter stood up sluggishly.

'Lord Roy, what can I do for you?'
Yeah, take care of the injured man.
Oh, yes, of course.

　Peter's expression is vacant.

'About your disposition...'
Yes.
I advised him to avoid severe punishment.
Oh, really?
Yeah, I wouldn't lie to you.

　Roy nodded.
　Peter had been taken by surprise by the rebels and forty percent of his provisions had been burned.
　It was force majeure, so to speak.
　But if you take severe action against him, you will run out of human resources.

Yeah, so get a grip.
Yes, thank you.

　Life returns to Peter's face.
　He still looks terrible.
　However, this will allow him to return to the Imperial City without killing himself or running away.

''Captain!　The wounded and bodies have been recovered!
Okay!

　A voice rang out from behind him and Peter replied loudly.

'The unseemly place...'
Don't worry about it.

　Peter grunted, and Roy responded lightly, serving.

'If you say so...'
You're on it.
Ha!

　Peter saluted and jumped on his horse.

*

　Peter let his horse advance with a guarded glance.
　If he holds up a stick with a white cloth tied to it, he will not be attacked by the rebels.
　That's what I've heard.
　It must be true.
　In fact, we haven't been attacked by insurgents so far.
　Still, I have my doubts.
　Naturally.
　Lives are at stake.
　You can't trust your opponent - the enemy - with that.
　But Assistant Commander Roy had negotiated with the rebel commander.
　But Roy's assistant legionnaire had negotiated with the rebel commanders without an emissary.
　Roy's life was worth far more than his.
　That means the chances of being tricked were high.
　And yet, so was his opponent.
　The two of them negotiated with the possibility of being tricked.
　This was no ordinary gall.
　Surely this is the difference between the captain of a supply corps and one who commands an army.
　Advancing their horses further, the walls of the imperial capital finally came into view.
　Perhaps because of the surprise attack of the rebel army, the city walls look reliable.
　After a while--.

'Captain, it's Imperial City!
Yeah.

　One of his subordinates raised his voice and Peter replied with a sigh.
　Perhaps they think he's so exhausted that he doesn't know where he is.
　It's not unreasonable.
　That's how hapless he looked.
　I'm going to be able to get the best out of it.
　I ducked through the gates and headed for Alfiruk Castle.
　People on the street stop and look at us.
　They were giving me a terrible look.
　This is not a good look for a soldier who has returned home after risking his life in battle.
　Many of his men had died.
　Some of them were young, some of them could be described as children.
　I would have liked to see a gaze more gentle, if only for pity.
　But I knew it would be difficult to do so.
　We ourselves had taken food away from the Imperial City.
　With the price of food skyrocketing.
　To them, we were thieves.
　And that's with the approval of the Empire.
　There is no way to complain to their faces.
　It's a good idea to think that the extent of the stare is enough to make it okay.
　Peter looked down and stretched his chest.
　It was a bravado.
　But if he was down, his subordinates would be down too.
　Even if the residents of the imperial capital don't understand, we risked our lives to do our part.
　If you don't at least feel like you've done your job as well as we have, you'll feel even more miserable.
　Besides, I thought that if I was the Assistant Commander of the Roy Corps, I would be proud.
　We passed through the new town and the old town.
　Alfilk Castle is right in front of us.
　Peter stopped his horse in front of the drawbridge and descended to the ground.
　He walked up to the knight of the Kingsguard, who was acting as a gatekeeper, and straightened up to salute him.

'I am Peter, Captain of the Supply Squad!　We've resupplied and returned, sir!

　The gatekeeper looked dumbfounded and straightened his back to salute.
　It was a splendid salute worthy of a knight of the Kingsguard.

''I have received a letter from the Assistant Legion Commander Lord!　Please inform the Chief of the War Department!
All right. Thank you.

　Peter held out the letter with a trembling hand, and the gatekeeper released the salute.
　And he received it in a manner that could not be called polite.
　To be honest, I wished he had received it more politely.
　The gatekeeper turned on his heel as he looked at the other one.

'Once we're back in the barracks--'
No, I can't do that.
What ... oh, I see.

　The gatekeeper nodded as if he'd made a point.
　He must have looked over Peter's shoulder at the large number of wounded and the pile of bodies.
　What to do with a large number of wounded and a pile of bodies?
　Especially dealing with the wounded.
　He couldn't move until he heard that.

''........is it really that bad?''
I ... didn't get a good look at it.

　He had his hands full with himself and had no time to check out the battlefield.
　Even though I was supposed to be in charge of a squad, it was shameful.
　That's why I'm no good at this.

"I don't mind if I only overheard it, but...
....

　The gatekeeper said apologetically, and Peter fished his memory.
　Well, it's impossible to be so dead and not terrible....

''I heard that the mercenaries were wiped out. The only ones that survived were........
Really?
Yeah, yeah, well.

　Peter nodded vaguely.
　I can't help but wonder if it's okay for a Kingsguard Knight to use the word 'serious'.
　Unlike ordinary soldiers, the Kingsguard Knights are elites.
　To begin with, they have a different family background.
　The gatekeeper in front of you must come from a famous and respected family.
　The truth is that I want you to be mindful of your words and actions as befits an elite.

''........you failed.

　The knight of the Kingsguard blurted out.
　I still want you to try to say and do things like an elite.
　This makes us look like fools.
　Nevertheless, I can understand the sentiment, and if I were in his position, I would have thought the same thing.
　Well, whether you say it or not.........
　Peter let out a small sigh and looked up at the city walls.



...all of them.

　Ralph skimmed through the letter briefly and frowned at the sheer devastation.
　He hadn't expected it, but the incompetence of the mercenaries made him angry.
　If they had found a weak spot in the enemy field position, they wouldn't have felt incompetent.
　They would have decided that they could use it.
　They might have even erected a monument to their good work.
　But the mercenaries challenged them with ten thousand men and only proved that the enemy's defenses were solid.
　They ate their food, coughed up their shit and wasted their medicine.
　And now you claim that the enemy's defenses are solid.
　The sheer stupidity and incompetence of it all.
　I'm sick of it.
　If they have only this level of ability, then they have every right to be deadly.
　Moreover, forty percent of their military provisions were burned down.
　No, they had to burn it all down.
　But that's what battles are all about.
　But this is what battle is all about.
　We're fighting.
　The enemy took advantage of the mobility of the cavalry to create a rear-disturbance.
　You can praise them for their tactics, as they understand the characteristics of the cavalry.
　The problem is that the neighboring lords let the enemy cavalry walk right past them.
　They pretended to follow the empire while flattering the rebels.
　An unforgivable sin.

"...shit.

　Suddenly, memories of the period of civil war resurfaced, and Ralph groaned.
　The nobles (scum) who said they would follow orders but didn't.
　The incompetents (scum) who said the strategy was bad while running away.
　The scum who looked down on us even though we won thanks to the mercenary army.
　They were ridiculed for their incompetence by such people.
　They were looked down upon by lowly people who didn't even know what tactics were.
　For years and years and years--tttt!
　The memory of the humiliation that had been vividly revived burned Ralph's brain and his body from the inside out.

''--!

　Ralph huffed to himself.
　His whole body was sopping wet.
　He gave a small shake of his head and straightened his residence.
　Now is not the time to think about the past.
　Now is your chance to do something about it.
　If you don't let your anger fade and your wits prevail, you will never clear your name or go down in history.
　You'll be fine.
　I've prepared the orders for this kind of thing.
　Ralph grabbed the order book with his trembling hands and opened his mouth.

''Arrange for ... sustenance and fodder.
Ha, ha.

　The deputy raised an eyebrow, as if puzzled.

'What?'
Bowties, the treasurer...
Yeah, yeah, yeah. You don't have to tell everybody.

　Ralph interrupted his subordinate.
　The director of the Bowties Treasury would have to give his approval when spending the money on a temporary basis.
　He thought he could at least sign it on the battlefield, but alas, he was a prisoner.
　The letter stated that he charged in valiantly and fiercely, and was captured in his efforts to fight, but he was probably captured for running into it with a foolish expression on his face.
　Should I have stopped Alfort after all?
　No, it was no use.
　If you ask me to express my sympathies for my wife and children who were killed, I'd nod my head without a second thought.
　That is the kind of man he is.
　I thought about pretending they were murdered and then quickly reconsidered.
　If you do that, you'll be caught flat-footed.

"...but...

　Do we need more powers to fight for more freedom, I mutter to myself.
　If he faked the death of Treasury Director Bawties, he would be pursued.
　The same goes for instructing his men to do the same.
　But if it's accidental - if it's accidental.
　As I was thinking about that, my deputy reluctantly opened his mouth.

''Sir.....
What?
What about the wounded and the bodies?
Injuries...

　I was about to tell him to leave it alone and keep his mouth shut.
　Hopefully, you can strengthen your authority.
　It's a bit of a gamble, relying on luck, but it doesn't hurt to fail.
　It's a no-no and an original.
　It's worth a try.

I'll give it some thought. Give me until the evening.
Ha!

　The deputy replied and turned on his heel.

*

What?

　Peter asked the gatekeeper who had just returned.

'So we'll wait until the evening.
'No!　They're injured, you know?
I know that, too.

　The gatekeeper frowned as if he was miffed and let out a small sigh.

'I know, but it's an order.
'Me, no, I was asked by the assistant corps commander to take care of them. And they need medical attention. Some of them have been burned, some have been shot with arrows, some have been blown away by the blast. They might not last until the evening.
Hey, you know what's useless?

　The gatekeeper said in a gentle voice that demanded understanding.
　Of course, I understand.
　In the military, orders are absolute.
　If the Chief of the War Department tells you to wait until evening, you must obey him.
　There's nothing you can do about it.

"You've done your job. Go back to your barracks with the rest of your men.
But...
You'll never get away with it and you're wasting your chance.　Think it over. You followed the assistant corps commander's orders. All you need to do now is to obey the War Chief's orders. You'll do your duty as a soldier. That's all you need to think about.
'Oh, yeah...'

　Peter made a small noise and dropped a paragraph.
　The assistant corps commander would surely dare him to screw around.

You've done well," he said. It's true. I'm not lying.
Yes.

　The gatekeeper laboriously tapped him on the shoulder and Peter nodded.
　He turned on his heel and plodded down to his men.
　At a time like this, if he were an assistant corps commander, he would probably resist if he was unconvinced.
　But Peter is the captain of a supply corps.
　He's not an assistant corps commander.
　He's not an assistant corps commander.
　The pettiness is there, too.
　But I'm relieved.
　I was feeling light.
　I was relieved of the pressure to punish him severely.
　I had pleaded for the wounded, knowing it was futile.
　He had done his job.
　That's about it.
　That's about the extent of who I am.
　Maybe he was just influenced by the assistant legionnaire.
　I'm not sure if I'll be able to find a way to get the job done.
　They can be forgiven for acting a little selfishly.
　He must have calculated this before he made his move.
　It's really stupid.
　When I returned to my horse, my subordinate approached me unintentionally.

"...Captain.
We're going home.

　He replies with a sense of fatigue.

'But the wounded...'
Our work is done.
But...

　Peter let out a deep sigh.

'We can't do anything about it, you know. Or are you going to pay for these guys?'
No, no, that's... not possible.
'Right?　That's why I can't do it. I can't do anything about it. If the top brass wants me to wait until the evening, I'm going to have to comply.

　Peter pushed his men away and headed for his horse.
　As he jumped on his horse, his men opened their mouths again.

'What about the carriage, sir?'
Just get the horses.
.... haha.

　After a considerable pause, his subordinate replied.

*

　Roy saw the last of the bodies off as he leaned against the incapacitated obstacle.
　Even though he had seen them off, the supply party had returned to the Imperial City, so the bodies would be laid out outside the camp, though.
　A short time later, Richard arrived.
　He stopped in front of Roy and saluted him.
　It was a fine salute, a testament to his military school background.

'The bodies have been collected, sir.
I see.

　Roy let out a small breath.

'When will the Director of Finance Bowties be released?　Besides, the attack was....

　Richard gulped down a gulp and swallowed raw, perhaps because of the tension.

'Relax your shoulders,'
I know, sir, but... how is it that you're okay with this?
It's all right.

　Roy looked up at the sky.
　He could see the cloth tied to his spear and the sun shining in the mid-heaven.
　He could say that the truce was already over and he could attack.
　The only reason he doesn't do that is because he doesn't intend to attack.

''--!

　Richard gasped and Roy slowly turned around.
　Then Crono and Minotaur were about to come out of the field position.
　The Minotaur carried a man on his shoulder - the Director of Finance Bowties.
　He seems to be disarmed, but not bound.
　He is flapping his arms and legs like a child.
　It's probably not my imagination that the Minotaur is looking annoyed.
　A short time later, Crono and his team reach Roy and his team.

''Good, Sho!'' (BUMO!)

　The Minotaur lowered the Director of Finance Bowties to our side.
　In the next moment, Treasurer Bowties clung to the Minotaur.

'Now!　Kill this sub-human while I hold him down!
"...bum...

　The Minotaur scratched his head awkwardly.

'Leave me alone!　Do it!
'He's been like this since yesterday. You've been nagging me about the pride of the nobility and how you won't live to be humiliated by a prisoner of war.

　Crono said, as if disgusted - disgusted indeed, I suppose - but he said.

'Isn't it about time you stopped?'
'What are you talking about?　Now is your chance!
Okay.
'Oh!　Do you understand?
We're going home, Richard.

　Roy let out a sigh and turned on his heel.

'Good, are you sure?'
I don't mind.
I understand.

　Richard looked flustered, but he quickly followed.

'Hey!　Please take it back!
I don't want it. Do what you want!　Bake it, boil it, peel it, and then rub salt into it, be my guest!

　Immediately after Roy shouted, a scream came from behind him.
　It was Treasurer Bawties' scream.

'Well, wait!'

　With that, Director of Finance Bowties came around to Roy's front.

'Why aren't we fighting?
That's because he's promised a truce.
If we kill them now, the Empire will win!
You have the Princess Tyria.

　Certainly Crono and that minotaur would be important to the rebels.
　But the most important person is Princess Tyria.
　Besides," said Roy, looking over his shoulder at Richard, "we need someone to negotiate with in case of emergency.
　We need someone to negotiate with in case of emergency.

"Avenging my wife and children?
You know what?

　Roy scratched his head.
　At first he had felt sorry for him and thought he could help him.
　But over the past few days, he changed his mind.
　I can't feel sorry for this guy, and I can't lend him any power.

"If you want to avenge him so badly, do it yourself.
If I could, I would!

　Treasurer Bawties raised his voice, but it's really comical.
　He is the only one who doesn't see the ridiculousness of it.

'You're not trying, are you?
What do you mean?　I've spent my personal fortune to gather ten thousand mercenaries!
Oh, great, great. But if you really wanted to avenge your girl and her kid, couldn't you have done more?

　In the extreme, I could have pretended to be a prisoner of war and self-destructed with a magic item.
　He didn't do that because he valued his own life.
　He was calling for revenge while ensuring his safety.
　How could I help a man like that?

"If you want to avenge me, I'll lend you my spear and you can go.
Well, then it's a dead dog!

　Treasurer Bawties shouted in a supercilious voice.

'You might be able to make it now, eh?

　I look behind me over my shoulder again.
　Crono and the others are still looking at us.
　We might be able to avenge them now.
　It's a low probability, but not zero.

'This is your chance?　If we miss this one, they're going to be stuck in the back of the field.
Uggh, gggh...

　Treasurer Bawties grunted as he slouched and sweated.

'What's up?'
Excuse me!

　Roy asked, and the Director of Finance Bowties turned on his heel.

'What do you intend to do about it, sir?'
I'm sure you'll find a good reason to run back to the imperial capital.

　Roy let out a small sigh and looked up at the sky.

*

Hey, how long do we have to do this?

　Jose spoke to the man sitting next to him.
　The surroundings were dim and the air was cold.
　It would be freezing at this rate.
　Should I have moved somewhere else?
　No, he shook his head.
　What if someone comes while I'm away from this place?
　They wouldn't believe me if I claimed to have fought as a mercenary.
　Not only would they not be able to treat my wounds, but they would also not be able to give me any money.
　That's why I'm waiting on my knees in the back of the wagon.

'Hey, how long do we have to do this?'
....

　Jose asked the man next to him again.
　He didn't expect an answer.
　The man next to him was burned and bandaged all over.

'Hey, I was--'
Shut up!

　Jose's words were interrupted by the man sitting face to face.

'You're the one who shut up. I just talked to the guy next to me, why do I have to be told that much?
That's because he's dead.

　When Jose retorted, the man spat out.
　Dead?　And he holds his hand over the mouth of the man next to him.
　I felt nothing.
　The man wasn't breathing.
　He was dead.

...Yeah.

　Jose let out a small breath.
　Surprisingly, his emotions didn't move.
　No wonder.
　The man and I are not friends or anything.
　We simply rode together.
　After all, it seems that people die for no reason at all.
　I thought I knew that, but when I was confronted with the reality, my mood sank.
　I even think it's good to have something more.
　At that time--

The director of finance is here!

　A voice sounded from somewhere, and Jose descended to the ground, enduring the pain of his burns.
　Treasurer Bawties mounted his horse and approached us.

'Treasurer!'
"-Oh!

　Someone jumped out, and Director of Finance Bowties pulled the reins.
　The horse whined and floated on its paws.

'Hey, what are you!
'Please let me get some medical attention quickly. My burns are twitching.
Oh, no, I don't get it.

　Treasurer Bawties spat out.

'Oh, really?'
I'm busy.

　Treasurer Bawties tried to get his horse to advance, but he couldn't.
　Before he knew it, he was surrounded by his friends.

'....n-No, I need a cure.
Please. Please let me go to the hospital quickly.
Doctor, doctor, please.
My burns are twitching.
I can't move my arm.
Give me the money. Give me the money.
Oh, shut up!　Shut up!　Shut up!

　Treasurer Bawties ranted like a child.

'Why, by and large, should I pay for it!
No!
You promised!
'Yes!　Yes!
"You could not do anything about it!　You trash!　You couldn't do anything about it, and now you want me to give you money?　Don't be silly!
Oh, God!

　The man grabs at him, but--

"Gah!

　He let out a short scream and fell on his ass.
　Treasurer Bawties drew his sword and slashed at him.

'Aren't you grateful for a full meal!
f*ck you!

　Another man grabs at him, and the Director of Finance Bowties slashes at him.
　The man who was slashed fell on his ass as well.
　However, he wasn't the only one who grabbed at him.

''Ki, you guys!
Money!　Give me the money!
You owe me money!

　Treasurer Bawties was dragged off his horse and wrestled to the ground.
　He managed to escape while being grabbed by a large number of people, but it was a futile resistance.

'Give me the money!'
How could you--!

　Treasurer Bawties couldn't get the last word out.
　The reason for this is because he was hit on the back of the head with a stone that Jose had picked up.
　It was as if a thread had snapped and the director of finance went out of shape.
　He didn't move even a twitch, as if he had been hit badly.

Sword!　It's going to sell for a lot of money!
The ring!
The shoe!
That's a lot of clothes!

　A group of friends swarmed the motionless Finance Director Bowties.
　It's like ants latching on to their prey.

"Hey!　You guys!

　The gatekeeper shouted and José and the others ran away.

*

　Jose was running down a dimly lit alleyway with his shoes in his arms.
　He stopped, thinking that if he could just get away this far, he would be fine.
　He looks down at his shoes and contorts his face.
　It's only one of them.
　Someone has taken the other one away.
　Tears trickle out of my eyes.
　How unlucky I am.
　Fighting for your life, getting burned, and getting paid for this alone is not worth it.
　There was nothing I could do about it.
　They'll be looking at my feet, but I'll sell this to pay for my food.
　That's what I think and I step out.
　But I couldn't move forward.
　The wall was blocking his way.
　Jose pushed against the wall in a half panic.
　But the wall didn't budge.
　Eventually, Jose realized that he had fallen.
　There was a blood stained stone lying in front of him.
　Perhaps this was a direct hit to his head.
　I look around.
　There are people standing around.

I'm sure someone...

　Reaching out for help.
　My hand wanders through the void--.

''You bastard!''
You're taking all that food with you!
You're a soldier, and you look like a big boy!

　Stones flew in the air with curses.
　Jose tried to get away, but he couldn't.
　It must have been a bad place to hit.
　He couldn't put any strength into his body.
　Jose continued to be cursed and stoned without any way to do so.
　It took quite a while for him to lose consciousness.