When the Saintess Arrives, No King Exist

The gray-yellow clouds were even more gloomy than the day before, yet at noon they revealed a trace of pale sunlight.

In the mist-covered Nanze Lake, Autumn Dusk Island floated like a leaf on the water's surface.

From the sky above the western side of Autumn Dusk Island, the military camp square resembled a giant chessboard, with a dense mass of new recruits neatly arranged in formations.

Along the edge of the training ground, a squad of new recruits, panting with white steam, finally arrived to form a horizontal formation of 5x10, filling in the last square on the chessboard.

The dense formations were orderly, and within the grid-like gaps, military judges holding pious infusion rods and veteran captains moved back and forth, inspecting their stances.

The assessment had just ended, yet they still had to hold their posture despite their fatigue.

Even though the weather was so cold, fine beads of sweat still trickled down the soldiers' foreheads, glistening faintly.

At the edge of the square, the third batch of new recruits, who had just joined the camp, stood dumbfounded by the fence, watching the orderly formations.

In the distance, towering mountain ranges stood, with the air filled with the smell of earth, sweat, and metal.

With a sharp whistle, the previously noisy square suddenly fell silent.

"Attention—" the veteran captains shouted loudly.

The hoofbeats of warhorses beat rhythmically on the ground as Horn rode on horseback, followed by Jeanne, Jeska, Hakuto, and other officers and commanders.

Sitting on horseback, his gaze swept over the soldiers one by one.

Every soldier upon whom Horn's gaze fell instinctively puffed up their chest and tensed their muscles.

When they first joined the camp, most of them were skinny warriors, the kind even a tiger would refuse to bite because it was too bony.

Now they were still quite lean, but there was some flesh on their torsos and cheeks.

During this time, the new recruits' meals were mostly unlimited potato roots, along with nutritious rice porridge, eggs, and salted fish.

These carbohydrates and proteins were converted into endurance, lung capacity, and arm strength through training in military stances, running, and holding heavy rifles.

However, for these three physical assessment items, Horn's requirements were not high: first three days of adaptation, seven days of training, and then gradually increasing the load.

After all, the refugees were too weak, and with the weather so cold, there were already two or three who either died suddenly during training runs or succumbed to illness from colds.

So during formation training, they would practice for a while and then rest for a while, training for an hour, possibly needing to rest for five to ten minutes.

The refugees' physiques could not compare to modern people, and the external conditions doomed them to struggle with the rigorous duties of a soldier.

If they could keep their blankets folded and clothes not scattered around, Horn would be grateful.

"Have all the assessments been completed?"

"Yes, combining yesterday and this morning, they're all done. Altogether, there were six items: standing posture, discipline, marching, holding a heavy rifle, a 50-meter sprint, and a five-kilometer run."

"How's the average level?" Horn smiled and waved to the soldiers as he asked Jeska behind him.

"Out of the first batch of 2,000 recruits, 1,030 passed.

Among the 955 who failed, 12 were rated as abysmal; I suggest they withdraw as they are not suited for military service.

56 were rated as poor; I suggest they follow the second batch of recruits for repeated training.

674 were rated below average and can join the newly formed corps to improve gradually.

Additionally, 213 fell ill due to Divine Favor, delaying progress or unable to attend, and there were 15 deaths from various reasons."

Only half of the two thousand recruits actually reached the level of passing, but considering that many of them were beggars twenty days ago, it's quite remarkable.

"Have you selected the outstanding soldiers from each team?"

Horn had promised a 90 Dinar bonus for the top 10% of soldiers, naturally needing to deliver.

However, considering there were 2,000 in one camp, the method was to select 5 from internal evaluations of 40 teams to pick 200 people overall.

"It's all been done, and the list has been compiled." Hakuto handed the list to Horn.

Horn glanced at it briefly before handing it back: "Select 5 people from each team, with clear backgrounds, upright character, and the highest discipline scores, and hand it over to Dass."

"Yes, Your Excellency."

"Their physical fitness should have reached the minimum requirement for the breathing technique, right?"

"Excellent recruits surely have reached it, but the others…" Jeska's face showed hesitation.

Hakuto abruptly supplemented: "Hard to say."

Horn couldn't help but click his tongue.

He was able to practice the breathing technique right away because he seamlessly transitioned with monster meat.

But these people were not that fortunate; after twenty days of training, they didn't even meet the minimum requirements, let alone practice the breathing technique.

From the first formation to the last, Horn inspected all 40 formations before returning to the center of the square.

As he looked around at all the soldiers in the square, his mind was somewhat turbulent.

When he set off from Gulag, there were only about 300 soldiers with him, and now, just new recruits numbered 2,000 here.

He once lamented that it was simply a collection of beggar gangs and brawling villagers.

But by now, they finally started to resemble a modern early army.

In fact, Horn had the thought of turning them into that historic army.

Upon analyzing the situation, Horn discovered that, both materially and spiritually, he couldn't provide the conditions of that historic army.

In a repeated cycle of compromise and iteration, Horn's final goal was to form a gun-and-spear infantry corps reminiscent of the Thirty Years' War.

The Military Chaplain's duty was essentially that of a steward and psychologist, also undertaking part of the work of conveying Horn's will downwards.

Advanced was only relative; such an army was enough to defeat an Imperial Army that was still organized like in the Late Middle Ages.

"Warriors of the Salvation War Group, today is December 29th, and all assessments are concluded as of today."

The silent square was filled only with Horn's resonant voice.

"Look to your left, those are the new recruits observing, and further out are your family and friends."

"You can eat your fill and train every day because the faithful scrape by on the worst rice porridge and wild vegetable soup."

"Farther away, others among the Holy Father's followers are suffering cruelly."

"From today until January 2nd, I grant you three days off, not only for you to reunite with your family but also for you to go back and reflect."

"What have our faithful done for you? What have you done for our faithful?"

"On January 3rd, when you return to the camp, our officers will lead you to the corresponding corps."

"At that time, you will be bestowed with the holy ordination of a Combat Cultivator and learn how to truly hold a pike and learn how to kill the enemy."

"Our enemies, those demons entrenched in castles and churches, are no strangers to you; we all know how powerful they are."

"Yet we refuse to yield; we will overthrow them from their false holy images and thrones—that is why we gathered here."

"May the Holy Father bless you all to be invincible like the Saint Master!"