"...Life or death - that truly is our dilemma." Taylor whispered to Karl beside him. They hadn't spoken for what seemed an eternity. After the squad captain had finished berating Simon with his perfunctory reprimands, he'd returned to the vanguard. Simon, meanwhile, had transformed his verbal enthusiasm into visual vigilance, his eyes constantly scanning the moonlit terrain for any sign of movement.

"After all, Emmy and Daisy await your triumphant return. And I... well, I have my own sweet cherry waiting at home... no, make that two." Taylor's laugh carried a bitter edge. "But none can foretell what fate holds. If we both... I mean, if we should fall in this campaign-"

"Do you wish to turn back?" Karl's interruption cut through Taylor's hesitation like a blade. "If so, turn your horse now. The squad captain might understand your plight, though Emperor William would likely have you saying your final prayers on the gallows." There was an edge to his voice.

"Peace, Karl. I spoke not of retreat." Taylor turned away. "I merely question the wisdom of our choices. That initial fervor when news of the expedition reached us; the quiet triumph of successfully bribing the governor; the exhilaration of donning a knight's colors - all have melted away like spring snow, leaving no trace of their former shape. Our passion has scattered to the winds."

Karl kept his gaze downcast. When he finally spoke, his voice was heavy: "Indeed. Back then, our minds dwelt only on the Emperor's promised rewards, blind to other possibilities. Now that we're mounted for war, such reflections serve no purpose. And yet," he paused, drawing a deep breath, "if I could drink from a chalice of regret and choose again, my decision would remain unchanged."

He raised his eyes at last, meeting his friend's gaze.

"I would remain with Emmy and Daisy. No matter what precious promises William Davidow might offer, I'd stay by their side. I long to watch Emmy grow tall enough to reach the dining table, her chubby hands wielding spoon and fork. To see Daisy's sharp edges soften with time, growing into grace and dignity, finding harmony with the estate's servants." His voice caught. "I dream of watching Emmy sip her morning coffee, smiling as she declares, 'Black as a demon, sweet as a stolen kiss,' before dashing off to her studies. Until that distant day when I'd walk her through temple or church, releasing her hand as she runs to her bridegroom. I..." He steadied himself. "I wish to wake before dawn's first light, watching golden rays climb across Daisy's wrinkled face and silver hair, until she finally surrenders to the sun's temptation and opens her clouded eyes to whisper, 'Good morning.'"

Only then did Taylor notice the redness in Karl's eyes, the tears gathering at their corners. He turned away, closing his own eyes against the sight. The moonlight reflecting off those tears was unbearable, each glint a dagger to his heart.

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After what seemed an age, he realized his own cheeks were wet with tears.

"The edge of Weimar Forest approaches," announced the squad captain, returning astride his swaying mount to inspect their contrition. The scene before him clearly exceeded his expectations for their penitence.

"What ails you all?" he demanded. "We're nearly free of these cursed larches. Surely that merits some cheer? Why so silent? Has the forest stolen your tongues?"

Karl and Taylor maintained their silence, leaving Simon to respond: "We're overjoyed, Captain, truly. A month in these woods has been quite enough. Might I inquire when the main force will join us?"

The captain's lips curled into a sardonic smile. "Still fishing for intelligence? Or do you doubt our vanguard's strength?" His eyes narrowed. "Speak freely - I'll be sure to share your concerns with our thousand cavalry and two thousand infantry."

"No slight intended, Captain," Simon hastened to add. "Godma's armies are invincible. I merely heard that Cynthia's walls are formidable, their garrison substantial. Without reinforcement, a swift victory might prove... challenging."

The captain's expression hardened. "As I've said, the Duke's mind remains his own. Though in my judgment, a siege would inevitably become a war of attrition. The main force will march in waves, ten days after our departure from Crivi. While the strategy eludes me, Ravimon doubtless has his reasons." He adjusted his helm. "That's all I know. And Simon - ten days! Cease your embellishments and boasts. These witless fools plague me with your rumors like summer flies. What's this commotion ahead?"

The forward cavalry had emerged from the forest into a scene of breathtaking clarity: the moon hung unveiled by clouds; Cynthia's mighty walls rose dark and profound; vast fields stretched silent and waiting; and the Dobby River danced with captured moonlight. This ground would host their first clash with Cynthian steel. They couldn't know then that they'd be mired here for half a month, nor that these battles would become legends in their own right.

The vanguard buzzed with excitement, finally free of the forest's month-long embrace. "At last," the captain sighed, while Karl and Taylor gathered themselves. "Steel your hearts. Victory shall be swift." He spurred his mount back to the front.

"Behold, gentlemen, tonight's moon," Simon ventured, eager to share his gleaned intelligence. "Indeed," Karl gazed upward, his expression distant. "Full beyond nature's course."

"Most irregular," Taylor concurred. "The moon typically reaches fullness during the Hunt Festival in mid-August. We took Crivi in early April, so this can't be beyond May."

Simon fell silent as ice crept down his spine. The moon's gaze became unbearable, and foreboding filled his heart. As they neared the forest's edge, a shadow caught his eye - a massive black bat hanging from a branch, its ruby eyes piercing his very soul.

"Seventh Squad! Battle positions!" the captain's command rang out.

The bat remained unmoved, its crimson gaze fixed on Simon as it hissed in the darkness.

Simon wrenched his eyes away. It saw me... Terror seized his limbs, sending tremors through his entire body.