When the Saint comes, she does not collect food

#234 - My Salvation Army is invincible.

Standing in the frigid wind, a horse snorted.

At the entrance to the military camp, Mittene and his group huddled behind their horses to shield themselves from the cold.

By noon, the sky was completely overcast, with only a few faint rays of sunlight, barely visible, filtering through the thick, heavy gray clouds onto the backs of the warhorses.

After Armand entered the camp to report the situation, Andar couldn't hold back any longer and began to grumble incessantly:

"It's just a bunch of farmers playing house. How many of them are there to dare call themselves the Papal State?"

"Did you hear what that Thomas said? Something about the Holy Grandson dreaming and requesting Misella to appoint him as Pope, and she actually agreed!"

"I'm really curious, how exactly did they defeat the Transcendent Knights? By some backwoods farmer's voodoo dance performance?"

"They say the Duke's defeat wasn't caused by the Salvation Army, but by infighting between the Duke and Duchess. I didn't believe it before, but now I'm starting to have my doubts."

"Lord Mittene, I have to say, I don't know why we came to Autumn's End Island instead of staying home to celebrate the New Year Festival."

"From what I've seen so far, they're just a bunch of ignorant farmers, no different from any other peasant rebels…"

Andar's complaints grated on Mittene's ears, and he replied helplessly, "Keep it down."

The main purpose of Mittene and his group's visit to the Salvation Army, besides observation, was to provide them with talent.

In Catherine's view, despite the Salvation Army's impressive momentum, they were, after all, a rural uprising with few capable people.

Among Catherine's experienced officers, Andar was one of the few who wasn't too averse to the Salvation Army.

The plan was for Andar to serve as a military advisor, helping them train their troops, and Martial to serve as a political advisor, helping them handle their affairs.

Catherine had promised them both that if they did well, they would be appointed as landed knights or city nobles in the future.

Having heard that the Salvation Army had defeated hundreds of knights and beheaded the Duke at Jeanne d'Arc Fortress, Andar initially thought it wasn't too bad.

But upon arrival, he saw that the knights had been drowned by a witch who broke their chains, the spring-loaded guns were actually small, loud crossbows, and the Salvation Army was a makeshift organization built on farmers' ramblings.

If he hadn't promised Catherine, Andar would have turned around and left.

"Seriously, I'll go check out their soldiers later. If the soldiers are salvageable, then there's still hope. But if the soldiers are hopeless…"

Ignoring the rambling Andar, Mittene turned to Cecy and asked, "Do you know who's coming to meet them?"

Cecy looked towards the El army camp in the distance: "Armand said that Lord Howern is busy, so it's likely to be the Salvation Army's second-in-command…"

"Segal?"

"No, it's the Holy Maiden Paladin, Lady Jeanne d'Arc."

Upon hearing this name, Mittene knew that this was the witch in the Salvation Army's possession.

Their willingness to support the Salvation Army largely stemmed from the significance of this witch.

Based on the keywords Mittene extracted from Cecy's descriptions, his impression of this witch could be summarized as: enthusiastic, cheerful, chivalrous, righteous, and brave.

But after the previous events, he began to doubt how much embellishment there was in Cecy's descriptions.

Upon closer thought, although she came from an armed peasant background, she was raised by a tenant farmer, so she was likely an ignorant village girl.

Enthusiastic, cheerful, and brave – isn't that the image of a simple-minded village woman?

As for chivalry and righteousness, she probably just read too many knight novels.

It perfectly matched Mittene's stereotype of ignorant rural women.

"Ah, they're here."

Speak of Jeanne, and Jeanne appears. Mittene straightened his back and looked towards the military camp gate.

The barred gate slowly opened, revealing a black braid swinging.

The brown-leather-armored female knight skillfully rode her warhorse forward, with Armand reporting to her in a low voice by her side.

The valiant-looking female knight tilted her head, listening to Armand, who was following closely, with a slight smile on her lips.

"Sister Cecy!"

Spotting Cecy, Jeanne immediately waved to her with a big smile on her face.

She dismounted and trotted forward, giving Cecy a big hug before catching up with her.

After catching up, Cecy dutifully introduced the others to her one by one.

After some communication and self-introductions, Andar, in a formal setting, refrained from his previous complaints and politely saluted.

"Hello, I am Andar Fuller, a military instructor sent by Catherine."

"Andar, sounds like a woman's name, so you're a man, hahaha," Jeanne said boisterously.

Mittene stepped forward and shook Andar's knuckle-whitened fist: "I wonder where Lord Howern is? Is there time for a meeting?"

"My brother is holding a debate conference," Jeanne patted Mittene on the shoulder. "Come on, I'll take you to see our Salvation Army's training. Isn't Andar an instructor? Perfect for giving us some advice."

"Our great Pope is managing such a large country and is simply too busy." Unknowingly, there was a hint of gunpowder in Andar's tone.

Jeanne glanced at him but didn't retort. Instead, she waved her hand matter-of-factly: "Let's go, I'll take you to see the new army."

With his cheek muscles tensed, Andar looked at Mittene with a "can you believe this" expression.

Frowning, Mittene narrowed his eyes and shook his head, signaling Andar not to cause trouble.

Jeanne didn't take them to the inside of the military camp but instead headed towards the training ground on the other side.

At this time, the sunlight was blocked by the clouds, and it seemed that everything was stained with a layer of withered yellow filter.

The clatter of hooves crushed the dry grass and branches, and on the ground that was gradually being frozen by the cold, a group of young and middle-aged men in patched clothes of various colors appeared behind the hillside.

"Look, this is our Papal State's top-notch strong army. They're training."

After this short journey, Andar's mood had calmed down slightly.

Hearing Jeanne's words, he lifted his felt hat slightly and looked at the young men.

After all, this was his future livelihood, and he had to work hard no matter how unhappy he was.

On the grass, four or five hundred soldiers were busily training, sometimes scurrying around like headless flies, sometimes lying down like a pile of mud.

But in Andar's view, their formation was simply a cloud of randomly scattered mist.

If the formation and array were already appalling, their spirit and energy were even more like beggars and serfs, which was even more pronounced with their tattered clothes.

If this was soldiers, Andar would eat them.

Especially after getting closer, it reached the point where even Mittene couldn't help but avert his eyes.

During the march, the new recruits in the back row pressed their chests against the backs of the new recruits in the front row, and moved forward three meters after shouting "At ease" five times.

Dozens of soldiers spun like ballerinas, and when the officer shouted "Left face," more than a dozen in each team were looking at each other, not even realizing there was anything wrong.

"This, is this training?"

"Yes," Jeanne said seriously. "My Salvation Army is invincible. We have 4,000 of these mere Order Battalions, while the Lia Kingdom only has 40. How about that?

Our Pope Howern is strong and sturdy, while the current Pope Johnny VIII is old and weak.

When the time comes, our army will directly have our Holy Grandson challenge the enemy in front of the battle, and the only one who can send someone of corresponding status is Johnny VIII. Is it possible to lose when an eighteen-year-old fights an eighty-year-old?"

"Haha, haha," Mittene chuckled dryly. "Yes, yes, haha."

"Oh?" After a long silence, Andar's mocking voice rang out undisguisedly, "Then why not just have an angel descend and kill all the Church's troops? Isn't your Holy Grandson able to communicate with the Holy Father?"