When the Saint comes, she does not collect food

#531 - Marching towards the dawn in the New Year

Even though the end of the year was near, a shadow of war loomed over the land of Langsdorf County.

Starting in mid-December, more and more messenger riders began to appear on the once peaceful streets.

The military police even announced that Jeanne d'Arc Fortress would be under curfew for two months starting on the 27th.

Every day, when the residents of Jeanne d'Arc Fortress woke up and opened their stained-glass or oilcloth windows, they could see black-clad soldiers marching in neat ranks.

These soldiers wore identical black jerkin coats, with a short cape reaching only to the elbows, and leather boots on their feet.

Sometimes, they could also see Kush knights coming from the south, squadrons of holy musket cavalry, and even some students from the Frick School of the Holy See.

Originally, the Salvation Army's legions mostly consisted of child soldiers serving as orderlies, who would grow up on the battlefield, learning and fighting at the same time, becoming an independent force outside the Horn government in the future.

However, currently, the Salvation Army's sixteen legions were a bit short on child soldiers, so Horn thought of those students from Frick School.

Thus, the social practice activity at the end of the Frick School semester became going to the battlefield to fight.

Of course, Horn wouldn't let them go to the front lines; they were only responsible for miscellaneous tasks such as cleaning up the battlefield after the battle, transporting the wounded, and counting war losses and spoils.

Since the 25th, every morning at the docks, black-clad war monks could be seen lining up to board troop transport ships, some crying, others indifferent.

Amidst the bugle calls awakening the city, the troop transport barges, fully loaded with black-clad monks, slowly moved forward, the banks of the river filled with either cries or cheers.

The cries came from the soldiers' family members, while the cheers came from the citizens who had bought Holy War Bonds.

Wearing black, blue, and brown knee-length coarse cloth tights, they stood on the stone slabs along the riverbank, constantly waving their Holy War Bonds at the passing soldiers.

With the troop movements, the first batch of troops was completely moved by December 30th.

The two legions led by Jeanne, consisting of 1,125 soldiers and six hundred cavalry, had all arrived in Rapid Current City on time.

The three Black Hat Legions of Lower River County were successfully transferred to Little Pool City on the same day.

It must be said that having a river is convenient; it only takes five days to transport nearly two thousand soldiers from Jeanne d'Arc Fortress to Rapid Current City and back.

When the barges transporting the Black Hat Legions to the South Nauan River returned, the remaining four legions would take even less time to reach Rapid Current City and the South Nauan River defense line.

On New Year's Day, the second batch of reinforcements, the Salvation Army's two vanguard legions of 1,200 soldiers, was scheduled to depart.

Since the previous night was New Year's Eve, the number of war monk family members who came to see them off the next day was several times higher than usual.

Unlike the Black Hat Legions, who were mostly vagrants with few family members to see them off, many with only a single page of household registration,

these Guards Legions' war monks were mostly locals, and they needed tall, strong young men with clean backgrounds.

Even if they didn't have parents, they wouldn't lack friends, so naturally, more people came to see them off.

Steam billowed above the docks, and colorful triangular flags were hung all over the eaves and trees.

Those selling bread and hot soup, those seeing them off, those watching the excitement, and those rushing to return to their ranks turned the entire dock into a chaotic black stew.

Shouts of "You stepped on my foot!" and "You're pulling my hair!" could be heard everywhere, mixed with the whistling and bugle calls in the distance, piercing the ears.

Under the suppression of the military police and night watchmen, they barely managed to clear a path for the war monks to board the ships in neat ranks.

Standing in the crowded crowd, Seizinger watched with emotion the young men who were crying but still boarding the ship with orderly steps.

Although he had seen such scenes several times, he still felt a sense of shock.

Identical clothes, identical actions, even the stride lengths were similar.

Although their eyes were filled with tears, they still tried their best to straighten their chests, supporting the Salvation Army uniforms on their bodies.

When the soldiers stood neatly in a row on the deck, that vast expanse of black shadows gave off a sense of inexplicable majesty just by looking at it.

"Mr. Seizinger, when are you boarding the ship?" Legion Commander Laurent walked over from the side and gave Seizinger a hat-raising salute.

Seizinger looked at this legion commander, who was even younger than his daughter, with a complex expression: "I get a little seasick. Please let me know when the ship is about to leave."

"Okay." Laurent nodded in a businesslike manner and turned to start counting the black-clad soldiers present.

Taking out a wine skin from his pocket, Seizinger took a swig of acorn wine.

This was a unique wine from North County, but it was almost undrinkable without distillation.

The alcohol content was definitely on the higher side in the Empire, a strong liquor favored by the dwarves living in the cold regions.

As the nutty wine went down, Seizinger's body gradually warmed up.

According to the original plan, he should have already set off for Deer Horn Township to meet with the Gray Horse Knight Vayne.

Unfortunately, there were signs of movement from the Church Army in Mander County, so the Salvation Army blocked the passage to Great Marsh Township.

Therefore, Seizinger had no choice but to go to Rapid Current City first, and if Vayne's offensive went smoothly, find a way to make contact.

Seizinger had no choice but to follow Horn; anyway, he couldn't help much by returning to North County, so he might as well follow him to the battlefield and see what these so-called Salvation Army soldiers were really made of.

As the bugle sounded three times, Seizinger plugged the wine skin and, without waiting for Laurent to ask, stepped onto the barge on his own.

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With flags waving and amidst the heavy bugle calls, twenty-eight barges successively released their anchors and mooring lines, slowly moving forward with the current.

The war monks standing on both sides of the ship finally saw the familiar scenery on both sides moving, and low sobs could be heard from time to time.

But there was no other way; these Guards Legion monks were mostly recruits.

It was their first time on the battlefield, and fear was inevitable, but there had to be a first time.

"Eighty acres of good land, and a kind and gentle mother-in-law..."

Seizinger raised his head blankly. On the ship in front, someone suddenly started singing the Salvation Army's most familiar song.

"Dream of Heaven."

At this moment, Horn, standing at the bow of the first ship, raised his head, and a hint of nostalgia appeared in his eyes. He hadn't sung this little tune in a long time.

Without accompaniment or harmony, that hoarse and young voice finished the first verse alone.

When he sang the second verse, people began to join in, first one or two, then all the war monks on the ship began to sing.

"Grow your own grain, more labor, more harvest..."

When they sang the third time, not only the war monks but even the civilians on the shore sang in unison.

The original hawking and noisy cries and shouts disappeared, and amidst the repeated bugle calls, only this song still stood.

Between the river and the houses, the entire city was singing this little tune that was of great significance to the Salvation Army.

People stood in a row along the riverbank, and even the rooftops were filled with people. They stood quietly, singing this simple and cheerful song over and over again.

They gradually stopped singing until the soldiers could no longer see the flags of Jeanne d'Arc Fortress.

The winter dawn floated on the river, and at first glance, it seemed as if tens of thousands of golden threads were floating on the water.

However, this golden thread was instantly cut open by the black hull, scattering into clusters of cold, fragmented water droplets.

Nearly thirty troop transport barges lined up in a straight line, and the soldiers on board also lined up in a straight line along the ship's edge.

The cold wind blew the black and red crossed sword and gun flags, the hull floated and sank in the icy water, silently heading in the direction where the sun set.

In the singing of "Dream of Heaven," Horn and the Guards Corps sailed towards Rapid Current City on January 1, 1446.