The army returned to Couronne, where Queen Sulia personally led the capital's nobles, merchants, and garrison troops to welcome them.
At the gates of Couronne, Sulia stood proudly, radiating confidence and grace. Surrounded by a host of knights and nobles for protection, she dismounted gracefully, taking her place at the forefront. Behind her, Olica, the dark elf maid in her signature black-and-white uniform with white garter stockings, could barely contain her excitement. She was visibly trembling, licking her lips in anticipation.
Her master was finally coming home! It had been more than half a year since his departure, and she had missed him terribly.
Sulia noticed Olica's restless energy, as the maid's hand shook slightly while holding the parasol. The knightly queen leaned over and whispered, "Olica?"
"Madame," the dark elf maid—Ryan's personal 'pillow'—replied with some impatience. "When is Master getting here? He's so slow!"
"It should only be a little while longer," Sulia replied, her demeanor calm and composed. Over the past months, she had taken on the role of regent in Ryan's absence, exercising full authority as the ruler of Bretonnia. Her leadership had transformed her into a paragon of confidence and poise. "Be patient, Olica. Just a little longer."
The dark elf flipped her waist-length black hair with a haughty flick of her head, her amber eyes gleaming with a hint of mischief. Leaning closer to Sulia, she murmured, "Be patient, Madame? Who was it that couldn't be patient last time? Tell me, in that outfit, are you planning to hand tonight over to me?"
"Olica!" Sulia's tone held a touch of exasperation, though she managed to keep her composure. Still, the queen's heart fluttered slightly at the maid's teasing. From the moment she woke that morning, Sulia had taken great care to prepare herself for her husband's return.
Her attire was nothing short of stunning: a classic white military blouse adorned with sky-blue cuffs, intricate embroidered patterns, and vibranium buttons. Her shoulder epaulettes, marked with the family crest of a pure white Pegasus, were connected to her chest by two long, golden tassels. The top's buttons strained to contain her ample figure, while her platinum blonde hair cascaded down her back like a shimmering waterfall, secured by an elegant clip.
She paired the blouse with a blue pleated skirt, its hemline stopping just ten centimeters above her knees. The skirt's edge was decorated with white patterns painstakingly stitched with golden thread, forming mysterious Elven script. The skirt flared lightly, resembling delicate petals. Her long, slender legs were encased in sheer nude velvet tights, and her dainty feet rested in black lace pumps with fine heels. Her right ankle was adorned with a diamond anklet that radiated divine majesty, catching and refracting sunlight in a dazzling array of colors.
"Master will love your outfit, Madame, I guarantee it," Olica remarked casually, undeterred by Sulia's annoyed glance. The dark elf then sighed dramatically. "What a shame Master didn't bring me along this time. After Veronica and Teresa returned, he was left with that sow. Or maybe two sows."
"Olica!" Sulia's patience was wearing thin, her voice sharper now. "Have you forgotten the agreement we made during the Turkey Feast?"
"An agreement? Agreements are meant to be broken, aren't they?" Olica retorted, though her tone softened as she noticed Sulia's temper rising. After all, Sulia wasn't just Ryan's wife; she was the only daughter-in-law recognized by the Emperor himself. Sensing the line she shouldn't cross, Olica pouted and said, "Madame, have you heard the news from the Empire? That Emilia is already on her third pregnancy."
Sulia's calm facade cracked slightly at this. She couldn't help but feel a twinge of frustration. "Yes, Emilia is certainly prolific, isn't she? Olica, perhaps she has some sort of secret remedy. I hear the third child will be named Rita."
"The name doesn't matter," Olica dismissed with a wave. "She's no threat to you, of course. But I do think you should find an opportunity to talk to her. On one hand, to exchange ideas. On the other, to remind her of her place."
Sulia's ocean-blue eyes flickered for a moment, but she quickly regained her composure. Calmly, she replied, "I will handle this matter myself, Olica. I don't need your advice. Now, is there any other news I should be aware of?"
Internally, Olica clicked her tongue.
Our Madame is no pushover, she thought grudgingly.
"There are two notable updates," Olica began, summarizing the latest intelligence from the Empire.
The first was Emperor Karl Franz's response to Marienburg's medal craze. Not one to sit idly by, the Emperor had swiftly introduced his own system of war donations in exchange for Imperial military medals.
The Imperial medal system was meticulously designed as follows:
The Special-Class Charlemagne Golden Griffon Medal. The First-Class Reikland Golden Double-Headed Eagle Iron Crown Medal. The Second-Class Leopold Grand Cross Medal. The Third-Class Edelweiss Medal.
Though Karl Franz's response came slightly later than Ryan's medal initiative, it was still timely enough to carve out a niche for Imperial honors before Bretonnia's medals completely dominated the aristocratic circles. While Bretonnian medals remained highly sought after, the Emperor's decisive action ensured that the Empire retained some prestige in the matter. Furthermore, the medals, crafted by the Alchemy College under Gelt's supervision, quickly generated tens of thousands of gold marks for the Imperial treasury. It was a critical lifeline for their strained finances.
The second piece of news was even more significant: the Emperor had taken inspiration from Ryan's Old Guard and announced sweeping military reforms.
Karl Franz planned to establish the Franz Imperial Guard Corps, a new elite force composed of carefully selected veterans from across the provinces. Unlike the traditional Imperial units—which were often single-branch formations like the Reikland First Halberdiers or the Middenland Ulric Swordsmen—the Franz Guard would feature a mixed composition.
The Corps would consist of two infantry regiments (sword-and-shield and halberdiers), a greatsword regiment, a light cavalry regiment, and an artillery regiment. This integrated structure, with an estimated strength of 5,000 soldiers, aimed to maximize the synergy between infantry, cavalry, and artillery.
This reform was clearly influenced by Ryan's success with his mixed-compartment Old Guard units.
However, Sulia knew such a system placed immense demands on its commanders. Her husband, a military genius and master tactician by any standard, could easily handle the complexities of a mixed-unit army. The Empire's officers, however... that was another story entirely.
As Sulia pondered these developments, a commotion arose in the distance.
The banners of Bretonnia appeared on the horizon—the Lion of Bretonnia, Ryan's Book and Sword Fleur-de-Lis standard, the tricolor flag of the Old Guard, and the banners of the dukes—all fluttering proudly in the wind.
Seeing Sulia waiting at the gates, Ryan dismounted his steed. The King and Queen locked eyes, a thousand unspoken words passing between them. Finally, Ryan opened his arms.
"I'm back, Sulia."
"Welcome home, Ryan." Sulia hesitated for just a moment before rushing into his embrace. Resting her head against his chest, she closed her eyes and savored the moment.
Around them, applause and cheers erupted. Ryan leaned close to her ear and whispered, "Madame, your medal idea was brilliant. We made a fortune! Even after deducting costs and blessings, we netted at least 150,000 gold crowns! You're amazing, my love. Now, give me a kiss!"
Before Sulia could respond, Ryan kissed her firmly on her delicate lips.
In the distance, François burst into laughter. The old duke stroked his goatee and turned to the other dukes. "Look at those two! They're not exactly young anymore, but they're still so romantic!"
His smug remark earned him a round of disdainful glances.
"Keep showing off, you old fox!" someone muttered.
When the kiss finally ended, Sulia's knees went weak. Flushed and embarrassed, she pushed Ryan away gently. "Ryan, it's so hot out here. Let's get the army into the city first. I've prepared a triumphal celebration for you all."
"Of course!" Ryan agreed, taking Sulia's hand. Then he turned to Olica, who stood nearby, pouting with her cheeks puffed up like a chipmunk.
"Olica, you've worked hard. I'm back."
"Master is so heartless, leaving your loyal maid behind for so long," Olica grumbled. "And while you were away, you had another child with one of those women."
"What do you mean, 'those women'? Emilia used to serve as your fellow maid, didn't she?" Ryan teased, knowing Olica was still sulking about being left behind.
"Well, at least she's better than that sow," Olica muttered, sneaking a glance at Morgiana, who had just stepped out of her carriage. "Master, I've taken care of everything
in the palace. Now that you're back, rest well."
Ryan nodded with a smile.
Post-War Adjustments
After the grand triumphal procession and a ceremony at the Cathedral of the Lady, Ryan began the process of distributing war pensions.
The campaign had seen 52,000 Bretonnians march to war, with approximately 42,000 returning home. Around 10,000 soldiers had either been killed or were missing, while 2,000 returned severely injured or disabled. All these individuals—or their families—were entitled to substantial pensions.
Ryan entrusted the distribution of these funds to the Church of the Lady, ensuring fairness and transparency under the goddess's supervision.
Next came the demobilization process.
Given Bretonnia's rapidly growing middle class and freehold farmer population, the kingdom no longer faced recruitment shortages. Ryan decided to retire older or injured soldiers, promoting the most capable among them to junior officer roles.
For regular soldiers, the retirement age was set at 27-28 years, with a typical service term of 6-8 years. Soldiers who hadn't advanced in rank or power by that age were required to retire.
For the elite Old Guard, the rules were slightly different. These soldiers, all of whom started as at least "elite-tier," enjoyed superior training and nutrition, allowing them to serve longer. Retirement for them was set at 38-40 years, unless they advanced to legendary status or officer ranks.
Two retirement options were offered: a one-time lump-sum payment based on service length and achievements, or a career transition program for those ranked company commander or higher. The latter option came with reduced retirement payouts but included job placement assistance.
By late afternoon, the army was officially disbanded. Most soldiers returned home with their belongings, heavy pouches of gold, and wide grins. Many became local legends, regaling villagers with tales of Ryan's heroic campaigns. Young men listened in awe, dreaming of joining the army, striking it rich, or even earning knighthood.
However, while the common soldiers dispersed, many knights and nobles remained in Couronne.
They were there for the real event: the upcoming October ceremony at the Cathedral of the Lady, where the goddess herself would personally bestow the Lady's Highest Medal upon Calard.
And, according to rumors, Ryan planned to use the occasion to announce Bretonnia's Ten Marshals.
Ten Marshals!
Who would they be?
The news sent shockwaves through Bretonnia's political circles, sparking a frenzy of speculation and intrigue among the nobility.
______
(≧◡≦) ♡ Support me and read 20 chapters ahead – patreon.com/INNIT
For every 50 Power Stones, one extra chapter will be released on Saturday.