Two hundred years ago, General Napoleon rode the wave of the Revolution to completely expel Britain from the European continent. When he delivered the speech "Liberty Leads the People" in front of St. Elithe's Cathedral in Edinburgh, he was not a little uneasy in his heart.

Would he have foreseen that the seed of evil that had drifted from under his nose would take root on the other side of the earth and blossom into a flower of sin, even though the spark seemed fragile and stormy at the time. Perhaps out of pity, perhaps out of heroic sympathy, they did not want to see France's centuries-old enemy disappear in such an unknown way. Today, we have no way of knowing why the general had the same considerations as to let Elizabeth III go. But if he could see the demon named Holy Britania, who was ten thousand times more powerful after being reborn, standing on the other side of the ocean today, would he feel guilty as a sinner of history?

If the evil in front of us today was born from an inconspicuous kindness two hundred years ago, then today is the first step in making up for that mistake in those years.

No, history has no ifs.

Today, we are once again standing at a turning point in history.

It's no coincidence that standing here is our choice.

Today, we, the Black Knights, totaling 1,140 people, will stand in front of the sworn enemy of the New World, that Pan Ran, and blow the horn of counterattack for all mankind.

Today, perhaps, will be the last flash of free will.

My name is Aaron René de Pierre, the political councilor of the Black Knights.

It wasn't my suicide note -- in fact, I did think about it in the first place, just a few hours ago.

Just a few days ago, as the commander-in-chief of the Black Knights, ZERO accepted a proposal from the Kyoto Rokuya to plant a 10,000-ton bomb, the largest yield in human history, in the Sakura mine under Mt. Fuji.

If it were to be detonated, the Fuji ore vein, which accounts for 97% of the world's cherry blossom stones, would disappear from the face of the earth.

All the technologies based on Sakurashi today, all the inventions related to electricity, will be turned into scrap metal in that instant.

The price of freedom.

"THE WORLD WILL GO BACK TO BEFORE THE INDUSTRIAL REVOLUTION," ZERO SAID.

This will be a bargaining chip for Kyoto to threaten the empire, the capital of Japanese independence.

Our task is to buy time for Kyoto.

Ten days under Imperial fire with our small rebel group sounds like a suicidal mission, and many in the organization are suspicious. And as a commissar, it's my job to talk to these members and understand their concerns.

They're not afraid of death, I can assure you. They were just not satisfied with Kyoto's attitude towards the Black Knights, and they came and went as if they were slaves. Their loyalty to ZERO is unmatched, and if this plan were the work of the Commander-in-Chief, they would never have had a doubt. They are crying out for themselves, and even more so for ZERO.

Not to mention that the six families in Kyoto are hiding behind the safety of the scenes, and anyone will have a pimple in their hearts if they want this group of young people who are not related to them to defend this group of arrogant capitalists.

I'm no exception.

But I know the importance of this matter, and I know whether Japan will succeed or fail in independence, and whether or not the world can be rebalanced.

I can only try to explain to them: no, you are not working for someone else. You are sacrificing for your name, your freedom, and your future. Isn't it precisely when we know this that we join the organization? We're all standing here voluntarily, aren't we?

Unlike the assistant conductor's eloquence and ZERO's impassionedness, my language was very poor.

I can only tell them the story of Spartacus over and over again, and I tell them that the unfinished business of a thousand years awaits us, and that the heroic spirits of our ancestors are watching us. Over and over again, until their eyes became fiery again.

I looked at them, they were all so young, some of them were just children.

This is my farewell to these lives.

I don't even know their names.

These living, hot souls.

Suddenly I felt like a deserter, like a hypocrite full of righteousness and morality, and I stood up and ran through the tunnels in the belly of the mountain.

I have to do something, I can't send them to battle like the apologists who just talk and don't do it, and then watch them die one by one. I had to do something about it, or my chest would definitely explode.

On the radar of Britannia's army, more than five hundred heat sources are approaching us. The number of knightmare alone is more than half of our total.

The voice of the deputy conductor echoed in the belly of the mountain, and he told everyone one last time to take precautions. The iron door of Ganaku opened with a screeching sound, and the morning sun slowly shone on each warrior.

The sound of countdown sounded, and on the other side of the door, hell.

I ran to the side of the lieutenant in Glasgow and stopped him - I knew I shouldn't disturb him at such a time. I told him that my application for a gun had been rejected by the treasury management, and that I knew that I could become a soldier with a word from the deputy commander.

He looked at me with scrutinizing eyes and asked me if I would use a gun.

I didn't speak, and after a while, my second finger pulled his pistol from behind his waist and threw it to me, saying that it was enough for self-defense.

He was right, it was the first time in my life that I had held a gun, and it was heavier and colder than I had imagined. I don't even know where that so-called insurance is.

The only thing this gun does for me is to make sure I don't get captured.

I told him that I needed a real gun, a gun that could kill the enemy. I don't know anything about driving, but at least I can act as a foot soldier and provide some menial fire support to my comrades.

"I'm not a coward." I yelled at him.

I must have been like a naïve kid at the time.

"I know." The deputy commander said with a smile, at this time he looked like an adult. "I know you're not a coward, that's exactly what you need to sacrifice."

"You don't need a gun, you need a pen."

History should not be left to ashes.

If we fail, it is conceivable that this incident today will be arbitrarily tampered with and tarnished by the so-called historians of the Empire.

"It's easy to go to death with a hot head, isn't it? But sometimes, it is true courage to live and live with pain on your back. ”

I'm a worst-case filing.

My task is to survive.

I have to live, with the truth, with the historical facts, with the fire.

This is my mission.

I silently returned the gun to the lieutenant commander, who, as always, shrugged his shoulders, didn't say anything more, jumped into the cockpit, and gave the order to attack. With jealousy and blessings, I watched them sail into the morning light.

The iron gate slowly fell, and a few minutes later, the dull sound of gunfire rang out, accompanied by the trembling of the earth, echoing in the belly of Mt. Fuji.

Back in the corner of the command room, I wrote these words.

The young men are very brave, even if I am a half-way monk who has only studied military affairs for a few weeks, even if the reference is only the signal on the screen, I can still feel their orders and prohibitions on the battlefield, and the indomitable momentum. Faced with an enemy army three times as large as our own, and facing the overlord of the world, none of us deserted.

The course of the battle was unexpected, the imaginary bitter battle, the battle to the death, did not appear. From the moment the two armies came into contact, our side showed an advantage.

In the face of the enemy advancing in a fan-like shape, our troops formed a high-density fusiform shape, headed by the body of the deputy commander, and then went downhill, digging a hole in the middle of the enemy army, and the troops behind him followed him into it, causing more than 30 battle losses to the enemy in an instant, and our army lost only one person.

The enemy was taken by surprise, and they did not expect the Black Knights. Their formation was wrong, and this kind of scattered encirclement formation was not suitable for fighting on the rugged mountainous terrain of the mountains, but should be used to sweep away the remnants of the enemy army and clean up the battlefield -- which is exactly what they are here for today.

As long as the two planes are a little far apart, the complex terrain and trees are enough to block the fire support of their comrades. In the face of the Black Knights, which were in a dense chiseled formation, this disadvantage was infinitely magnified. Strategically, the opponent is much larger in numbers than our army, but in terms of the battle situation, each Britannian aircraft will face several times the firepower of its own. Just a few minutes later, the Britannian army was penetrated.

The enemy army, which was still in shock, did not have time to organize countertactics, but only subconsciously went all out to fill the center, which gave our army another opportunity, and this kind of unorganized blind increase in personnel enabled us to destroy the other side in a structured way.

The command room was filled with the excited shouts of the drivers, and it seemed that most of them had their own wreck records, while those who didn't catch it laughed and cursed their comrades for why they didn't keep one for themselves.

In an instant, our side had already destroyed more than 100 enemy troops with a negligible battle loss.

This is not a coincidence, much less a spiritual victory, it depends on the delicate pre-war arrangement of the deputy commander.

Britannia were not good at mountain warfare, the plains of the Americas did not have such complex terrain, and they may have had experience in slaughtering rebels in the colonial mountains, but they had not experienced the actual fighting between the two armies in this kind of battlefield.

Past experience taught them that to deal with this kind of terrain, they should first cover the ground with artillery in the rear for a morning, and then send out ground troops to clean up the mess. But they did not anticipate the preservation of our army, so they omitted this step. There are two reasons for not rushing out of the mountainside until the last moment, one of which is naturally to catch the other party off guard. The second is to make the opponent have already mixed up with our army when they react, so that the opponent cannot use long-range fire support.

Realizing this, Cornelia ordered to abandon the support center, spread out to the sides, and try to get rid of the opponent, forming a dense formation before attacking.

Almost at the same time, the voice of the deputy commander gave instructions, asking everyone to divide into two groups and bite each other's backs like dog skin plasters, so that they could eat more enemy troops, and definitely not give each other time to breathe and regroup.

The number of wrecks on the screen on our side continued to rise, and surprisingly, the number one on the list was not the deputy commander, but a female pilot of the testing machine. At this point in the battle, she had destroyed thirty-six Sunderlands, a number that was still rising at a rate of thirty seconds, more than doubling the lieutenant commander.

The soldiers of Britannia really lived up to their reputation, perhaps by the order of the governor, they divided two groups of more than 20 units from the end of the line, and used their lives to stop the pursuing troops of our army for the large force behind them, and successfully dragged out a few minutes of precious regrouping time for the Britannian army. Such a scene would never have been seen in the EU's military, and the officer who gave such a suicidal order would undoubtedly be court-martialed.

As enemies, they have their powerful reasons.

Now the situation on the battlefield is different, although the enemy is still outnumbered by us, the gap has been greatly narrowed in less than two hours.

But the advantage has returned to the other side.

The deputy commander gave the order to avoid direct fire with the opposing side, but not to move too far away from the opposing troops, who never left our troops at the bottom of the hill. As usual exercises, disperse into groups of three mechs, gradually surround each other in the pull with the other party, if the enemy wants to break through, don't stop it, open the opening yourself and let them go, as long as you make sure to stick to the other party.

But as soon as the opponent appears to emerge, as long as a corner protrudes from the opponent's dense formation, the black knights will immediately rush up, smooth it out, and gnaw it away.

In this undulating mountainous terrain, it is absolutely impossible to maintain a uniform formation, like a military parade. The opponent's battle loss rate has decreased significantly, but it can't completely stop the beating of that number, and the number of destroyed numbers is slowly but surely rising.

Quantitatively, the two armies are getting closer to one to one. The Britannian army has entered the rhythm of slow death, and if it does not change its formation, there is only one way to destroy it completely.

The enemy army became more and more impatient, and the retreat became more and more obvious.

Finally, once again leaving behind twenty or so broken small troops, the Britannian army rushed down the hill to the gap that had been made up by the Black Knights.

After taking out the death squads, the Black Knights returned to the belly of the mountain almost at the same time as the cannon fired.

Even the rumbling sound of cannon could not hide the earth-shattering cheers in the mountainside at this time.

We won.

There may be an even more bitter battle tomorrow, but today, we won.

It was my first victory.

My vision was blurred, and my hands were shaking, writing these crooked handwritings.

My mind went blank, I didn't know what to write, and the fragments of words flew around my mind like fragments. Maybe I should end this paragraph as much as possible, otherwise this historical material will be full of wild gibberish.

Now, even if it's water, I have to have a toast with the kids.