When the Saint comes, she does not collect food

#519 - The Holy Sun Righteous Army and the Noble Envoys

"Clack!"

The curly-haired youth, his voice hoarse, limped out from under the shade of a tree, shoving the tin-can-turned-megaphone into the face of the middle-aged citizen:

"You're playing a reformed thief, which means you start as a bad guy. You can't be so friendly and kind. You need to be sinister and cunning, so that when the orphans redeem you, it's moving.

Your words are weak, your movements clumsy, your steps loose, your expression dull. Nothing about you is decent. You think you can act like this? Dream on!"

Sprayed with saliva, the citizen playing the nameless monk could only lower his head in meek compliance, daring not to voice his anger.

Fritz, who was acting opposite the middle-aged citizen, frowned. "Florenza, watch your words."

As a former famous theater actor, Florenza’s skill was considerable, but his personality was too volatile and sensitive.

The handsome youth named Florenza glared at the middle-aged citizen. "If I weren't mute and crippled, I would never have let you play this good role."

"Florenza!"

"Alright, alright, Miss Fritz." Dragging his crippled leg, Florenza walked back into the shade of the trees.

"Meditate on it yourself for now. I'm going to speak with your Lord Valentine." Seeing the shadow of a carriage at the mountain pass, Fritz calmly said to the actor she was working with, and walked towards the camp gate.

Sott, the old Black Hat Army veteran who had been hiding in the shade of the trees, and also Fritz's bodyguard, immediately picked up his holy rifle and followed Fritz.

Through the narrow gap in the mountains, seven or eight large carts, covered with tarpaulins, were heading towards the small village in the mountain hollow, or rather, the Holy Sun Army camp.

Dozens of Holy Sun soldiers, wearing various armors and with black and red flags stuck in their burlap sacks, followed on both sides of the carts.

Among the people guarding the carts, only one person lay on a carriage, humming a song with ease.

"Mr. Andrew."

"Good afternoon, Fritz." Grinning widely, Andrew, the Executive Vice-Pope of the Holy Sun Army, reached out to touch Fritz's head, but she dodged him.

Fritz frowned, glaring at Andrew: "Don't touch my head with your dirty hands. Have the new rotation of officers arrived? Any news from His Eminence?"

After restoring order in Rapid Falls City, Jeska, for overall strategic considerations, applied to Horn for aid to the Holy Sun Army.

This application was quickly approved by the Privy Council, and large quantities of grain, medicine, and officers were transported there, while the wounded and women and children returned with the carts carrying iron ingots.

In addition to grain and medicine, Horn also emphasized the output of truth, that is, the tenets of the Holy Path Sect and the legal principles of the Salvation Army.

As a former farmer, he was unusually aware of the farmers' impoverished spiritual world.

This was an era of entertainment scarcity. For commoners, the biggest entertainments were only sex and gambling.

The lives of farmers were often incredibly dull and monotonous. They lived in a fantasy world composed of dashing and shameless demon hunters, handsome and righteous knights, and beautiful daughters of rich farmers.

But such a spiritual world was obviously inconsistent with reality and could not penetrate their lives and hearts; it was merely a consolation.

Although the Salvation Army's literary and artistic works were quite simple and crude, they had one characteristic: they were absolutely relevant to reality and absolutely penetrated life.

If Horn didn't occupy the farmers' spiritual world, then the Church would.

So, at Fritz's volunteering, she and two others formed a miniature troupe to perform so-called truth plays.

The scripts included the tragedy *The Promised Heavenly Island*, the drama *The Hypocrite Durdaff*, and the comedy *The Holy Sun Fights the Bishop*.

Sure enough, in the Holy Sun Army's dozens of strongholds, these extremely simple plays were loved by countless people.

The propaganda effect was terrifyingly good. Each time after the play, a few noble knights were allowed to be beaten by the farmers, and a dozen or twenty people would convert on the spot.

Andrew even joked that they had suffered so much, but they didn't get as much cheers as Fritz did when she spoke.

After bickering with Andrew for a few words, Fritz saw Valentine in blue robes walking over to support the carriage, and hurried to meet him.

"News came from the Supreme Pontiff that Ludwig's matter is still under discussion. They have contacted the monasteries in Cassia County many times, but there have been no results."

Valentine was not as mischievous as Andrew. He gently touched Fritz's head: "His Eminence also said that he hopes we will focus our main attention on civil affairs during this time.

Avoid direct conflict with the lancers, but preach to the vagrant groups and provide security, and try to replace the dysfunctional grassroots organizations of the Church."

While walking towards the camp, Valentine talked to Fritz, transporting these precious supplies into the camp.

Jeska's judgment of Hotam County was correct. The Holy Sun Army did not have the strength to confront the Decree Legion and could only temporarily avoid its edge, lying in wait for an opportunity.

If it were in the past, the Holy Sun Army would definitely not have been able to lie low, because people would always come to encircle and suppress them, and there would not be enough food.

But after receiving funding from the overseas force Horn, they had the confidence to lie low.

As for the rotated officers, it was because Jordan accidentally broke his leg during training and needed to send a new head instructor.

"There's no need to find a new head instructor," Andrew patted his chest. "Why don't I be the head instructor?"

"You?"

Fritz had always been a serious and upright character, so she naturally rolled her eyes and chased after the convoy.

"Good afternoon, Miss Fritz."

"Good afternoon, Laurent."

"May the Holy Father bless you, Miss Fritz."

"And bless you too, Old Pierre."

Along the way, Fritz frequently nodded in acknowledgment to people. Not only did the commoners greet her, but the officers also greeted her.

This was the goddaughter of Holy Sun Horn, someone who could freely enter and exit the Holy Sun's bedroom and study, and had three good friends who separately managed the Night Watch, the Cheka, and the Gendarmerie.

Even Jordan greeted Fritz with a smile.

The people who funded the Holy Sun Army were not only Fritz, but also several officers of the Black Hat Army, disabled veterans, and monks of the Holy Father Society.

Led by the more reliable Jordan, new officers such as Laurent and Leffie were sent here to gain experience.

Fritz and Valentine and others had only walked a few steps before they saw Laurent and Leffie training new recruits.

However, due to the restrictions of the Holy Favored, they could only train the most basic spears, formations, and discipline.

In the slogans echoing in the valley, dozens of young men holding wooden spears advanced with the spears at a barely uniform pace.

"Sprint, sprint!" With an order from Leffie, who was running alongside the army, the entire army switched from a normal pace to a charge, holding their spears and rushing towards the target at the end of the training field.

Passing by these soldiers running in unison, Andrew was momentarily silent, and after a long while, he opened his mouth and said: "Your godfather is truly a genius."

Andrew was sincere when he said this.

He was born into a family of soldiers in Fran, and his uncle was a mercenary knight. He followed his uncle on the battlefield at the age of twelve or thirteen.

In Andrew's eyes, the neat steps and firm will that these officers boasted about were all bullshit.

He had hundreds of ways to achieve these things.

What was truly valuable were the regulations that Horn, Jeska, and others had summarized and deduced from their own experience, putting all military knowledge together.

This was a standardized manual. Even a fool could be trained into a good soldier by following the steps.

Moreover, everyone was trained from the same template, using the same command system and commands. There were specific indicators for how to run and where to run to.

If this was used to command on the battlefield, Andrew could only say it would be silky smooth.

"Are there many patrols nearby recently?"

"There are fewer patrols. The lancers have passed by here several times, but they haven't discovered us." The sentry guarding the post lowered his voice. "But we discovered a noble's spy this morning. He tried to sneak in, but we found him."

As expected, they still came. Valentine and Andrew exchanged glances: "Bring him over."

Logically speaking, such a loud training sound would definitely be discovered by the patrolling Church soldiers.

However, the noble's coalition forces had not harassed them during this period, which made Valentine suspicious.

Andrew went out every day, even risking his life to run to Rapid Falls City to collect intelligence, but when asked what he had collected, he said he didn't know.

Fritz and the two Vice-Western Border Guardian Popes waited in the simple thatched hut for seven or eight minutes before seeing a disheveled man dressed as a merchant being pushed in with his hands and feet tied.

"Who sent you as a spy..." Andrew's suddenly serious questioning had not yet ended when the glib merchant cried out.

"I'm not a spy, I'm an envoy, an envoy... I'm an envoy sent by Lord Samboli of Stone Wall Town, here to negotiate peace with you."