Noah: General Zealot, are you all right?
Zealot: Ah, Noah. This is nothing. We are knights of Ilia. We wouldn’t lose to other nations’ knights in terms of battle experience.
Noah: Yes. Well, I still have a lot to learn, though.
Zealot: Hm. …Oh. Noah, have you written your letter yet?
Noah: Letter? Oh…that letter.
Zealot: Right. Remember what you were told when you first joined? There are Pegasus Knight messengers that fly with us. If we should fall in battle, they will deliver our letters for us.
Zealot: Neither of us will be able to meet our deaths peacefully in bed. The letters are essential to us. Noah, don’t you have anyone you want to send a letter to?
Noah: Well… Not really. I do recall that my comrades were writing letters, though. They were addressing them to their parents…or lovers.
Zealot: You should do the same. Why don’t you get a girlfriend yourself?
Noah: Well, I’ll think about it.
Noah: …General Zealot.
Zealot: Is it about the letter? Have you changed your mind?
Noah: Yes. I suppose even I have someone I want to send a letter to when I die. If I die, I want you to read my letter.
Noah: Treck and I… And also Grant and Sieks… We all made it here thanks to you. I’d like to express my gratitude to you when I die.
Zealot: …I see.
Noah: Speaking of the others… I wonder where they are now?
Zealot: I’ve no idea. But they were once under my command. They won’t die so easily.
Noah: I heard that some were hired by Bern…
Zealot: Yes… But that can’t be helped. We give our blood and get money in return.
Noah: …General Zealot, what do you think of that?
Zealot: Of what?
Noah: Nobles from other nations say that Ilia sells death for a living. They say that we are vultures attracted to blood and decaying meat.
Zealot: That doesn’t bother me. It’s a fact that Ilia couldn’t survive without war. We are giving our own blood as well to survive.
Noah: General Zealot? Is something wrong?
Zealot: Ah, Noah. No…nothing’s wrong. Did I seem to be troubled?
Noah: No. I just thought that something had happened.
Zealot: I see… …A letter arrived today. It was your comrade’s…Grant’s will.
Noah: …I see.
Zealot: Would you like to read it?
Zealot: All right. Then let’s go.