Chapter 1189: Chapter 23 The Great Alliance Moves Forward (8)
[Barn Outside Green Valley]
Although Major Alder Felter didn’t know whether the legend of the “Blood Wolf” was true or how much of its deeds had yet to be fully recounted, he had realized one thing—that he could not allow the soldier in front of him to continue talking.
Because even if you squeeze the story dry and fold it twice, the battle achievents of the “Blood Wolf” are still intimidating.
Major Felter originally planned to expose the contradictions in the story being told, and then use a few witty remarks to alleviate the fear his subordinates felt towards the enemy after suffering a defeat.
After all, what important intelligence could a young soldier know about enemy commanders? Surely, it’s just sothing heard in so stinking tavern, from a drunken man willing to pawn his pants for a mug of beer.
However, glancing around at his subordinates’ expressions, Major Felter realized that he may have been too clever for his own good.
“Alright! This so-called… Blood of the Wolf story, is it an old lady’s foot wrap? How co it’s still not finished?”
Major Felter loudly interrupted the soldier, who was eroding their morale, walked up, grabbed the latter’s shoulders, and lifted him up: “Look at you, so downcast! Are you still a soldier of the Republic? Stand up straight for !”
After speaking, Major Felter personally tidied the collar and buttons of the young soldier whose na he didn’t yet know, smoothing the wrinkles on his shoulders: “A soldier should look like a soldier. We are not the Pretender Emperor’s slave soldiers but a force personally established by Marshal Ned! Soldier, what is your na?”
“Matthew.” The skinny soldier affiliated with Maplestone City Battalion replied in a small voice.
It was only at this mont that Major Felter realized the “soldier” in front of him was rely an underage boy, a face still covered with soot and dirt showing youthful innocence.
“How could a recruitnt officer of the New Reclamation Legion bring a child into the army?” Felter couldn’t help but wonder: “Is there no adult man in the Newly Reclaid Land?”
Yet now was not the ti to grumble about the recruitnt policies of his colleagues from the New Reclamation Legion. Major Felter forcefully patted the young soldier’s shoulder, turned around, and surveyed the other soldiers, light-heartedly retorting:
“Don’t scare yourselves with hearsay and absurd tales! If the Rebel leader was truly as formidable as you claim, would we still be alive? Why doesn’t he just turn into a werewolf and eat us all? Is it that my at is too tough?”
So laughed, so did not, but it was better than the earlier gloomy atmosphere.
Major Felter climbed onto the haystack, capitalizing on the change: “I know what you’re afraid of—you fear failure!”
“That’s right, today we suffered a defeat!” Felter unleashed all his passion and eloquence: “But in Bazenaur to the north, Major Sanel has already joined forces with the main units of the Sixth Legion. The cornered rebels will vanish before them. Just as rivers must flow into the sea, today’s setback is only temporary; ultimately, victory belongs to the Grand Council, belongs to the Second Republic!”
A few officers led the applause, followed by scattered claps echoing in the barn.
Major Felter motioned for everyone to disperse, then stepped down from the haystack.
Nat Second Lieutenant—the Commander of the Tenth Battalion—ca forward imdiately, his eyes full of admiration, his tone respectfully effusive: “Neither boastful in victory nor discouraged in defeat; Sir, you truly have the deanor of a great general.”
Felter cast a glance at Second Lieutenant Nat, always finding this bootlicking junior brother distasteful, which was why he assigned him to the Tenth Battalion.
Suppressing his anger, he asked: “Do you believe what I just said? Do I believe it? Do they believe it? Can it fill us with sustenance?”
Nat Second Lieutenant’s face turned from bright to pale.
Major Felter also realized his temper was a bit out of control and refrained from harsher words: “What’s urgent now is to get the troops sothing to eat. How much have you gathered on your supply search?”
Second Lieutenant Nat reported hurriedly: “Before ‘clearing the firing lanes,’ I collected so food and drink from nearby farr houses, but… it’s far from enough to satisfy everyone’s hunger. I’ve also found so flour and barley; there may also be so barley in the barn. But… the hand mills and cooking supplies are with the supply wagons, lost along with them…”
Major Felter’s eyebrow knit unconsciously, biting his nails and turning to look inside the barn:
Three battalions along with a stream of collected stragglers—at least one thousand five hundred soldiers crowded under one roof, many unable to lie down for rest, forced to curl up and sit with knees embraced;
They were starving, exhausted, their minds filled with the evening’s defeat and the hoof sounds in the fog, now quarreling over hay bundles and dry flat land.
“If we don’t have millstones, go find millstones; if we don’t have cooking supplies, go find cooking supplies.” Felter’s gaze was sharp: “The villagers in this village fled but could they have taken everything? Go find them!”
“Yes.” Nat Second Lieutenant responded imdiately: “Once the enemy’s light cavalry retreats, I’ll find them right away, personally leading the search!”
Seeing Second Lieutenant Nat make such a statent, Felter’s mood slightly improved, nodding as he continued: “Any other matters?”
“Uh…” Nat Second Lieutenant leaned closer to the Major, lowering his voice to say: “Sir, amongst the food found from the nearby farmhouses, the more refined ones… I’ve already saved for you… don’t be choosy…”
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