When the Saint comes, she does not collect food

#322 - Saint, I want to kill the devil!

Having won the battle and issued the order for the Hussars to 'scout, not pursue,' the work of dealing with the aftermath began.

The nearby Protectorate Guard and the stationed Black Hats quickly arrived.

Quartermasters from each legion, accompanied by several war priests acting as helpers, walked through the battlefield.

They occasionally delivered mercy blows to the critically wounded, bent down to pick through the weapons, and drove all the horses to one side for centralized management.

The sun was high, and this summer was especially hot, as if the air itself was about to ignite.

In this kind of hot weather, to prevent plague, Jeanne ordered that all enemy corpses be buried on the spot, except for their own fallen soldiers.

Shouldering the corpses of the war priests and Orc Hussars, carts loaded with the wounded and spoils of war, and with the prisoners in tow, they headed back.

This sudden attack was very strange, and Jeanne dared not act rashly.

Before the Holy Grenadiers had gone far, the villagers from several nearby villages swarmed out.

Things that Jeanne and her forces didn't want, like tattered clothes, rusty daggers, and the meat of dead horses, were a considerable fortune for these villagers.

The sound of hooves echoed as the road back was covered in bloodstains.

"These Hussars still need to be equipped with lamellar armor, and preferably some wheellock rifles as well, otherwise they can't even break armor."

Catching up to Jeanne from behind, Adjutant Colleber complained to Jeanne.

Jeanne shrugged: "They are meant for scouting, harassment, and pursuit. If they could handle heavy knights, what would we need us for?

Most importantly, equipping them with lamellar armor and wheellock rifles, how would their tactical positioning be any different from ours? They would just be a low-end version of the Holy Grenadiers."

Although the military book Jeanne studied, 'The Knight Siffral,' focused on traditional knight tactics, she herself had to fight against knights, so her understanding of cavalry was very different from that of traditional cavalry officers like Colleber.

Past cavalry/knights were complex in function but simple in structure, mainly focusing on using one force to overcome all others.

Jeanne focused more on top-level design, clearly defining the vertical segmentation of different tactical positions for cavalry, and achieving tactical coupling of specialized cavalry types.

She demanded that cavalry members have a clear division of labor; those responsible for charging should focus on charging, and those responsible for harassment should focus on harassment, with each specialized cavalry type maximizing its single function.

This kind of cavalry training was faster, and even ordinary people could quickly improve their combat power without needing ten years of training.

Of course, in real battlefields, the ability to coordinate different cavalry types placed considerable demands on the commanding officers and cavalry organization.

Cavalry officers could no longer charge recklessly like knight lords.

Humming a tune from 'Kingdom Dream,' Jeanne led the way back to Jeanne Fortress with two victories.

A faint sound of crying interrupted her humming of the 'Kingdom Dream' tune.

Jeanne raised her head.

Unknowingly, they had already arrived at the village that had been attacked and plundered earlier.

Most of the fires had been extinguished by the Protectorate Guard, but the dilapidated thatched huts were swaying in the wind.

In the wheat fields that had been cleared by the flames, the aroma of roasted millet and wheat grains filled the air.

On the fields with only charred black wheat stubble remaining, the source of the crying was Greiz and Nicholas, who were gathered together.

Greiz was kneeling on the ground, staring blankly ahead, as if he was looking at something, but there was nothing in front of him.

Before his knees was Old Nicholas, who had been trampled by horses into a bloody mess, with his ribs, internal organs, and blood vessels all exposed to the air.

Little Nicholas was lying on his father's corpse, crying loudly, his cries so sorrowful that his sobs were intermittent due to losing his voice and not being able to catch his breath.

Jeanne reined in her warhorse and rode it to the side of the road.

The once peaceful village square was lined with rows of dead bodies burned to charcoal; the knights showed no mercy to these 'betraying' subjects.

Not only was Greiz crying, but the people of the entire village were also crying.

In the black smoke rising from behind the hill mounds in the distance, the sounds of crying came from the other villages.

This dispelled much of the joy of victory in Jeanne's heart.

After kneeling for a long time, Greiz seemed to have noticed Jeanne's arrival; he supported himself on the ground with one hand and stood up with difficulty.

His calves trembled as he walked step by step, across the wheat field, ditches, and mud, toward Jeanne and her party.

"Who is it? What do you want!"

Several Holy Grenadiers immediately stepped forward, drawing their sabers and pointing them at Greiz's chest.

It was not surprising that they were nervous; the Holy War Special Zone was a military zone, and war priests, officers, and clerical monks were often attacked.

"Don't stop him," Jeanne took off her helmet, revealing her messy black hair. "I know him; he was the one who sent us the message."

Even so, several Holy Grenadiers still drew their heavy, nearly one-meter-long single-handed guns and aimed them at the head-bowed Greiz.

If Greiz dared to make any move, they would not hesitate to shoot him dead on the spot.

"What do you want to say?"

Greiz walked closer step by step and knelt down in front of Jeanne. He raised his head, and tears finally flowed down.

"Saintess, I want to kill devils!"

Jeanne and Colleber exchanged glances and turned their gazes to his missing left arm.

They had encountered many such situations before, where people requested to join the Salvation Army after their families had been destroyed, and most of them were absorbed into the Holy Father Association or the Cheka Gendarmerie.

But Greiz had lost his left hand, so asking him to do high-risk things again...

Just as Jeanne hesitated, Little Nicholas stumbled over and grabbed his cousin's shoulder: "What are you doing?"

Pulled by his cousin, Greiz still stared intently at Jeanne, without saying a word.

Despite Greiz losing an arm, Little Nicholas was unable to move him.

Heavily punching his cousin on the shoulder, he shouted with a sob: "Papa traded his life for yours, are you going to waste it like this?"

"This is not a waste!" Greiz finally spoke. "I want to avenge them!"

Seeing this, Jeanne sighed: "Killing devils doesn't necessarily have to be on the battlefield; the grain you grow can also become..."

"I killed one with my own hands!"

"What did you say?" Jeanne frowned.

Turning around, Greiz took out a bloody, round thing from the pocket on his lower back.

He held up the head with its eyes open, startling Little Nicholas into silence.

"I killed a squire knight with my own hands! I'm no worse than anyone else, I can kill devils too!"

Greiz raised his head, his eyes filled with bloodshot veins. His nostrils flared, and he roared in a crazed whisper.

"Papa and Mama were killed, my sister was killed, Old Nicholas was killed, and my home is gone again!"

"If you don't want to accept me, then I'll go kill devils myself!"

"I want to cut off their heads, pierce their hearts, send all these devils back to the Fire Hell, I want them to die! Every single one!"

Greiz's right fingernails dug deeply into his palm, and he gasped violently, tears slowly flowing from his wide eyes. The cries and roars like those of a night owl seemed to stir up a gust of wind.

"Not a single one left!"

The surrounding black smoke and wheat swayed in the evening breeze.

After a full minute of silence, Jeanne finally broke free from her daze, she sighed deeply: "Silly boy, what about your brother then?"

"I'll sell my field and get him a good wife, someone will take care of him."

"Okay," Jeanne finally relented. "But you have to prove yourself first. These days you will follow Colleber, hiss... follow the Hussars for now, as a quartermaster."

"I can go into battle!"

"You can't!" Jeanne interrupted him. "You will follow the cavalry as a quartermaster for two months. If you can persevere, I will ask a friend to make something for you that will barely allow you to go to the battlefield."