When the Saintess Arrives, No King Exist-Chapter 881 - 832: Army Experience +1+1...

The noonday sun shone warmly, and the verdant grass blades gleamed with a jade-like luster.

Emerging from the pine forest, standing at the edge of this streamside grassy field, one could smell the youthful earthy scent and the smoke from farmhouse chimneys.

Such weather and such a place were perfect for an outing, but at this moment, it was anything but leisurely and peaceful.

"Outlander, coming to beg at our Thousand River Valley!"

"Ah Qi Na! Saisihe! (Norn's profanity)"

"What are you shouting about? Weren't you the ones who broke the rules first?"

On the grass, some wore leather armor, others were bare-chested, but most at least held a long stick wrapped with cloth.

Only a few were barehanded, but they showed no fear, swinging their fists at the faces of friendly forces.

Some officers and military police around were clumsily trying to stop it, yet more were clapping and cheering.

Even wounded soldiers were running out of the camp on crutches to watch the battle.

At least nearly a thousand people were on the grass, two-thirds of them howling and brawling.

The turf was torn up, mud flew everywhere, and the ground was covered with soldiers tangled in rolling fights.

Judging by the collapsed tents, broken scoreboards, spilled meat soup, and lines drawn with white lime on the ground,

it seemed that an internal training exercise had gone awry, turning into actual combat.

"Toot, toot, toot—" The military police escorting new recruits into camp couldn't care about them, blowing their whistles, drawing their batons, and rushing forward.

With no one to stop them, the recruits naturally wanted to join in on the fun and followed the military police.

Seeing the chaotic scene, Venice, who had been suppressed all the way, joked: "Isn't the Salvation Army known for its strict discipline? Is this it?"

"Didn't you previously say that adhering to discipline would make soldiers cowardly, and that there should be rule-breaking courage?" the nearby Defensive Army immediately retorted.

Despite being hit by his own words, Venice pretended not to hear, climbing a mound with his hands behind his back to watch.

Thierry, Abazi, and other members of the military observation group naturally followed, shading their eyes with their hands to look over.

One had to admit, even when these soldiers were fighting in a brawl, they maintained a considerable degree of organization.

Aside from a few dozen who were entangled, most were in groups of ten providing mutual cover, charging in lines.

Amidst the thudding of physical collisions, there were occasional screams followed by someone falling backward, with a comrade immediately jumping out to cover.

Despite the chaotic battle, with several squad leaders and officers shouting commands, the formations and situation gradually became distinct.

At this moment, a rider suddenly burst out from the camp: "Battle Commander's order, group brawling punishable by five lashes, the losers must give their sausages to the winners tonight!"

"Roar—"

"For the sausages!"

Ignoring the heated situation in the brawl, Thierry quickly walked to the edge and approached the officer on crutches.

"Brother, I am from the Falan military observation group. Can I ask you a few questions?"

After showing the officer a letter of introduction, the caution on the officer's face faded: "What do you want to ask?"

"How much is your monthly salary? Is that something you can tell me?"

"Of course, it's public information. I am at the rank of Captain Bai, earning 2 gold pounds a month, about 80 dinars in hand."

"…You're saying your salary is only a third of that?"

"Yes."

"Then, how do you manage? Don't you need to eat or have accommodation?"

"Meals are provided by the Battle Group, clothes are issued by the group.

As for accommodation, it's either covered by the corps fund or in the barracks. It's not like they charge me rent for the barracks, right?

Except for alcohol and personal items, the Battle Group covers everything unless you want to gamble, indulge, or seek Liu Ying, otherwise, this salary is more than enough."

"Then what about the remaining money?"

"It's sent home in one lump sum." The officer on crutches glanced at Thierry in surprise.

"What if someone embezzles it? Like secretly withholding it from your family, aren't you afraid?"

"We all have registered households, managed uniformly by the Holy Alliance, not like in the past where things couldn't be traced.

Moreover, I have soldier files and accounts. My achievements and loot distribution are clearly recorded." The officer rolled his eyes at him, "Do you think Cheka just sits around doing nothing?"

Thierry fell silent for a moment.

Around him, Abazi and Venice soon returned, summarizing the final news.

When Horn distributed money to the soldiers, he didn't actually hand over the gold coins to them.

Instead, only a third was given as pocket money, with the rest sent back home.

For the stated reason, it was to prevent them from gambling and squandering money.

For those without family, they could either apply to take it all or temporarily allocate it to the soldiers' fund to earn interest until they returned to collect it.

If a soldier without a family died in battle, their salary would be used for the maintenance of the Heroic Spirits Cemetery and the church.

In other words, Horn claimed a monthly expenditure of 30,000 gold pounds, but only a third actually reached the front line.

The rest went to their hometown, where lacking men would naturally require buying livestock or machinery as replacements.

Otherwise, it would be used for building new houses or purchasing Holy War Bonds and sugar mill stocks according to official bulletins.

The gold pounds sent out would, one way or another, return to Horn's Holy Treasury.

Though quite a bit was still hidden away, as long as there was consumption, it would eventually participate in the cycle and return to Horn's hands.

No wonder he dared to say the finances could hold up for another year.

"Learn, there's no end to learning." The pen tip scribbled across the notebook, Thierry couldn't help but sigh.

Ignoring Abazi, who was still organizing notes, Venice whispered, "Can we really use this method? Making commoners generals would infuriate countless nobles, wouldn't it?"

"Just take note of it, use it if we can, adapt it if we can't."

The observation group was murmuring when they felt a breeze pass by their side.

"Gentlemen…"

It wasn't until the person walked up to them that they collectively shivered and noticed the presence wearing a Cheka cloak.

"Gentlemen, we've informed Dass Warlord, and you can enter now."

Walking through the orderly camp roads, drainage ditches could be seen in front of the barracks.

The barracks were intentionally staggered in construction, preventing cavalry from charging straight at the command post.

At the center of the camp was originally a Hunter's Hut, which had been turned into a temporary command center.

Entering the wooden house, the main members of the observation group saw a young man in his twenties.

He stood with his hands behind his back, facing the hanging map.

With a simple vest and black gloves, if not for the armband on his arm, no one would recognize him as the Battle Commander.

"Greetings, Dass Warlord." After confirming his identity with the Attendant Officer, Thierry took the initiative to greet him with a bow.

"Hello, hello, no need to bow, a handshake will do."

"It's not in accordance with Falan etiquette." Thierry politely declined Dass' outstretched hand, insisting on a chest-patting bow.

"I've received a letter from his majesty informing me of your coming, though I didn't expect it to be so soon." Dass retracted his hand awkwardly and smiled, "But your timing is perfect."

After completing the formalities, the observation group's members stood up, listening to the young Battle Commander's friendly words.

"What do you mean by that, Lord Dass?" Thierry, the leader of the observation group, inquired in confusion.

Dass, stroking the stubble on his chin, laughed heartily: "Aren't you here to observe military action? Perfect, tomorrow I'm leading troops to attack the Leia Army. If you're interested, why not come along?"