Near Lakeheart Town, a recruit training camp.
The morning star was still twinkling in the dark blue sky when the door hinges of the barracks suddenly creaked loudly. A moment later, the officer on night duty emerged from the gate carrying a brass lantern. The lantern swayed in the cold wind, casting swaying shadows of the soldiers on guard.
The soldiers, feeling somewhat weary, immediately straightened their backs and gave their superiors a deep bow.
Just as the officer was about to return the salute, a rapid sound of horses' hooves suddenly came from afar.
The two men at the gate became more alert. They turned their gaze and saw a group of horsemen emerging from the mist. When they saw who it was, they were both taken aback.
Leading the group was Paul Greiman, their lord.
He was accompanied by several people, including Catherine, Schroeder, and Bryce …
"Salute!" The officer, his whole body tense, raised his hand in salute, shouting out in his nervousness.
Schroeder spurred his horse forward and calmly said, "Emergency assembly!"
The officer gasped; the worst thing about recruit training had arrived.
In any case, once the order is given, it must be carried out without any compromise. These little rascals better live up to expectations!
In an instant, the urgent bugle call shattered the tranquility of the military camp, and within half a minute, all the barracks were filled with noise.
"Emergency assembly! Pack your backpacks, get into combat gear, and line up on the parade ground!" The officers' encouraging voices echoed down the corridor.
The young men, shirtless and bare-chested, reluctantly crawled out of their warm beds, tore off the rough woolen military uniforms hanging by their beds, and hurriedly put them on, still covered in salt stains from the day's training.
In such haste, there was no time to light the lamps in the barracks. The brass buttons traced moving streaks of light in the dim light as they wrapped their belts, put on their leggings, and packed their backpacks. A series of skillful movements were executed smoothly and effortlessly.
Within five minutes, everyone was dressed, grabbed their weapons, and rushed out of their barracks to assemble on the parade ground as quickly as possible.
The cowhide military boots studded with copper nails clattered on the ground, and the running of a large number of soldiers seemed to make the ground tremble. Each person found their position according to their usual training.
From chaos to order and then to neatness, several formations quickly took shape on the parade ground, the cold glint of the gun barrels of each row of soldiers forming straight silver lines.
The calls of soldiers from each company merged into one, and within minutes it was confirmed that every soldier in the entire camp had arrived. The camp commander reported the results to Lord Paul and requested further instructions.
From the sounding of the bugle to the completion of the assembly, the whole process took less than half an hour, which Paul was quite satisfied with.
However, there are always some soldiers who wear clothes that are obviously ill-fitting, and if one person wears the wrong clothes, it means that another person is wearing the wrong clothes.
The most outrageous thing was when Paul approached the line to check the soldiers ' attire, the pants of the person in front of him fell to the ground with a clatter.
The person involved was so embarrassed that his eyes widened. The unexpected situation, coupled with not receiving any orders, left him completely at a loss.
" Soldiers, pull up your pants!"
Paul said with a straight face that he was actually trying hard to suppress his laughter.
"Yes, Lord Glaeman!" The soldiers were overjoyed, hurriedly pulling up their trousers and tightening their belts.
An officer jogged to the front of the formation, stood at attention, and shouted in a strong voice: "Ten-kilometer cross-country training with loads. Now listen to my command, all of you, right turn, march!"
As soon as he finished speaking, the troops began to move in sequence. Following their usual training habits, the soldiers jogged out of the camp in neat rows. It was just unknown how long they could maintain this neatness during the cross-country run with heavy loads.
Catherine's expression was calm, but inwardly she was quite excited as she watched the army gradually disappear into the night.
No matter how many times you watch it, the sense of unity and discipline displayed by Alda's army during operations always provides a visual treat.
After spending some time with them, she came to realize the differences between Alda's army and traditional armies, or at least the old army of the kingdom.
In the army of the Kingdom of Aldor, knights are the absolute core of battle, while ordinary soldiers are merely their assistants. However, the feudal knights come from various territories and usually only gather in small groups when hunting or competing. Coupled with their deeply ingrained concept of heroism, their overall cohesion and coordination are absolutely no match for the Alda army in front of them, let alone the ordinary soldiers who usually work in the fields and are only hastily conscripted and trained for a few days after the outbreak of war.
The royal family once maintained a Royal Capital Knights based on young noble sons, training them as a unified force. This allowed them to intimidate lords across the land and command their obedience.
However, as the kingdom enjoyed prolonged peace, the quality of the knights became increasingly uneven, and deteriorating finances prevented the timely replenishment of auxiliary soldiers, thus diminishing the royal family's deterrent power.
In Alda's army, the main fighting force consisted of ordinary soldiers. Paul Greiman demanded almost the exacting standards of a knight—in terms of physique, every soldier was trained to be extremely strong and well-nourished.
Just as Catherine was reflecting on this, someone rode up on horseback and hurried towards the military camp, handing Paul a letter.
The messenger couldn't wait until dawn, which shows that the letter was extremely important.
" Marquis, an urgent telegraph from Crystal Radiance!"
" Crystal Radiance?" Catherine's heart skipped a beat. The recent misfortunes of the Aldor Kingdom made her involuntarily think the worst.
Paul quickly opened the envelope, read it hastily, raised his eyebrows, and said with some delight, "The war in the South is over."
Everyone present knew without a doubt that the war in the south was Crystal Radiance's campaign against Greedy Wolf, the Grand Duke. The War of Giles.
"How did it end?" Catherine asked impatiently.
The latest news received by Northwest Bay is that the Kingdom Army has crossed Eagles Beak Pass and is advancing towards Five Rams City, where a decisive battle with Giles is about to begin.
Paul replied, " The Royal Army encountered only minor resistance along the way and arrived at Five Rams City relatively smoothly. With the help of our 24-pound cannons, they blasted a breach in the city wall in just one day—it seems the old walls are no longer up to date—and they stormed in and occupied the city. Unfortunately, Giles seems to have escaped, and we did not find any trace of the Grand Duke in his castle."
Damn it! Giles got away.
Catherine thought bitterly to herself, then suddenly felt a sense of loss, mixed with a touch of jealousy.
After all, it was she who led the army south to attack Giles last time, but compared to her own campaign, this Royal Army campaign was as smooth as a hot knife through butter.