"Tawara Tōta, once we reach the camp, supplies will be your responsibility. As for water, Ms. Leonardo da Vinci will handle it." Anno's expression was as stern as ever, just as it had been through countless commands in battle before.
"Alright, leave it to me. But what about King Hassan's side?" Tawara Tōta was an easygoing man. He did not mind Anno's conspicuously stiff tone and merely asked with a smile.
"Before entering the desert, I specifically wrote a letter to Hassan of the Hundred Faces, stating where we would station our troops. We'll rendezvous in that area when the time comes. The Mountain People are fast at delivering messages—they are the true natives of this land." Anno turned to look over the barren earth, his voice carrying a trace of sentiment.
Tawara Tōta stood behind him, looking at Anno's silver-white cape billowing in the hot wind, and could not help shaking his head.
"Though this may be an unnecessary question—"
"Anno, when facing the junior you once lived beside day and night, the king you devoted your whole life to... will you really not hold back?"
He saw a sorrow and pain in this knight that others could not see.
"...I won't."
There had been a pause, but there was no hesitation in Anno's voice.
Only his muscles had stiffened slightly.
"You've heard about me too. I'm not the kind of person who hesitates."
Anno turned around, his eyes free of any distraction.
Tawara Tōta silently watched Anno's eyes, shrugged, and let a faint smile appear on his face.
"Then good luck. It seems you're completely prepared."
He could sense something from Anno.
Something—the same feeling he had sensed from Arash before.
Anno walked past Tawara Tōta toward the place where the Sphinxes were temporarily resting, then called out