When the Saintess Arrives, No King Exist

Nanze Lake, Southern Swamp.

The lowest point of Daze Village is a paradise for monsters and giant spiders.

The muddy, foul-smelling ground is covered with a thin layer of snow.

Some withered yellow dry grass pokes its head out of the snow, and every now and then, small bubbles pop up in the icy roadside bog.

When they burst, they make a faint "pop" sound, which is incredibly clear in the silent hills.

The New Year Festival's heavy snow has melted considerably, the lake is like a bright mirror, reflecting the blue winter sky and the reeds on the shore.

The reeds at the shore are covered with thick white snow, and when a light breeze blows, it lifts a bit of snow powder.

Opposite the lake are rolling hills and slopes, and the branches of pine trees at the foot of the hills are laden with ice-melt snow.

Dark cyan rocks are exposed outside the white snow, and a spider as large as a dog crouches on the rock, gnawing on mushrooms and bushes growing in the crevices.

The chilly sunlight shines on its sand-black carapace, reflecting a metallic sheen, and its odd "hissing" sound can be occasionally heard.

Curiously, coexisting with the giant spiders are the terrifying long-haired undead.

They dangle their arms, blindly moving through the bog and snow, wandering across this desolate land.

But regardless of whether it's the giant spiders or the undead, neither noticed the flickering beast ears in the bushes, as several beastmen huddled behind rocks and trees, tensely watching from there.

After confirming the number and distribution of the giant spiders and undead, they first stooped and left the area, then sprinted over the rolling hills.

Before long, they returned to the marching column, passing the information into the hands of the leader of this insect eradication mission, Jeanne.

In the main force, Brune followed the person in front of him in step, adhering to the movements described in the "War Monk's Sacred Tome."

He held the butt of the three-and-a-half-meter-long spear in his right hand, resting the shaft against his shoulder, while his left hand gripped the lower part of the shaft to prevent it from swaying side to side.

According to the description in the "Sacred Tome," Brune should maintain a marching distance of one meter eight from the person in front of him.

However, the marching column didn't entirely follow the "Sacred Tome"; for example, the tome states that during a march, the holy gunners should stand at the forefront and the rear for enemy defense.

But this time, they're combating giant spiders and long-haired undead, so they pulled out the car fort tactics of yore.

On either side of their marching column, holy gunners accompany armored chariots, slowly advancing in the snow.

Snow doesn't chill as much as melting snow, and even though the sun is out, the ground hasn't thawed into a muddy state, allowing the chariots to still move.

Horn hastily dispatched the insect eradication expeditionary army, partly due to considerations of the terrain.

After all, with the chariots, they could carry more supplies and withstand more enemies.

"Brune, what are you doing, you're moving too fast." A low voice from a compatriot in his same company cautioned, and Brune quickly slowed his pace.

He's tall with long legs, and he's surrounded by comrades who are generally about one meter six; it's his old fault to accidentally fall out of step with the column.

"Thank you." Brune barely finished speaking.

When the military judge nearby suddenly called out, "First Imperial Guard Corps, Third Long Spear Brigade, Brune, for talking during the march, one demerit."

Brune immediately clamped his mouth shut, even glaring hatefully at the Child Soldiers with red armbands.

During the New Year Festival, Brune mostly spent his time at Jonar's house, only occasionally returning home to chat with his familiar Gashkour.

It wasn't until he returned to the barracks that he found himself actually missing this cramped place a bit.

After the New Year Festival, due to Brune's unpretentious character and spotless record, he and Jonar were both enlisted into the First Imperial Guard Corps.

However, Jonar is Blessed, so he joined the First Holy Gun Brigade; Brune, being tall and strong, was assigned to the Third Long Spear Brigade.

Once formally admitted into the barracks, he finally began to wear half-plate armor and wield the spear for thrusting.

Training in the "Sacred Tome" was one of the most arduous times for Brune; they were required to practice entirely according to the movements in the "Sacred Tome."

How to grip the spear, how to thrust, how to exert force, how to use breathing techniques, and how to apply breathing techniques to resist the impact of knights.

Like a puppet, Brune performed only one action at a time, engaging in at least hundreds of thrusts and solo spear technique practices daily.

During this period, the most terrifying aspect was the island circuit training, where they had to carry a spear, wear the chest armor and brimmed helm, and carry supplies while walking all around the muddy Autumn Dusk Island.

It was the first time he felt that armor might not look so good after all.

After forty days of military training, Brune had long forgotten how to walk with his neck shrunk as he used to.

It's not just Brune; there were considerable changes among all the war monks around him.

Their complexions were no longer a sickly sallow or pale gray but rather a more normal white with a hint of flesh color.

Speaking of energy and morale, they were no longer blindly dazed as before but carried some agility befitting their age.

Such changes were naturally not accomplished in a day, but accumulated under the constant preaching of the Saint Father Priest's military chaplain.

The key point of quantitative change leading to qualitative change was probably the complaint sessions held every three days.

Their feet tread on the ice-chip-laden muddy ground, the brown-yellow earth emitting a sound like twigs snapping.

The muscles on Brune's calves tightly adhered to the burlap leg wraps, enabling him to keep stepping forward.

As he walked, Brune spaced out once more; during every complaint session, the military chaplains would have someone take the stage, encouraging them to tell their story briefly.

For the initial few sessions, each complaint session would result in a slew of tearful soldiers, Brune saw Jonar cry several times, though he never admitted it.

Brune couldn't seem to cry; he was also quite bitter but somehow couldn't shed tears.

His companions in his company joked, saying maybe his tears flow inward.

The uniform marching sounds pulled Brune from his reverie, and he looked up; the lake to his left and the mountain slopes to his right were all radiating the color of snow under the sunlight.

Looking further ahead, densely packed forest-like lances and the "clang" of armor colliding fill the air.

Tilting his head down, Brune again adjusted the distance between himself and the person in front.

When he saw the gold-bordered serrated winter grass at his feet, he couldn't help but think of Horn.

Lately, Horn often stayed in the barracks, living with them as the lowest-ranked soldiers for some unknown reason.

According to His Holiness himself, they weren't soldiers; they were war monks, and the barracks was a monastery, so he was essentially residing in the monastery.

Very reasonable.

Unexpectedly, His Holiness the Pope wasn't especially stern; he and Bishop Pasrick often humorously bickered and bantered.

His Holiness would often eat with them, consuming whatever they ate.

After eating, His Holiness would animatedly tell them stories filled with humor, much more entertaining than their dry attempts.

Such an influential figure mingling with them was a surprise to everyone, and he would often speak up for the war monks when needed.

If any officer was found to be unjustly beating or mistreating a war monk, the monks would go directly to His Holiness to complain, and he would typically stand up for them.

But don't think the Saint's Grandson was soft-hearted; if they stepped wrong or made a mistake, His Holiness would personally administer justice, even going as far as demoting or penalizing the officer.

And don't think that the Saint's Grandson was just soft-hearted. If you stood wrong or walked wrong, His Holiness would personally penalize you.

Surprisingly, every five or six days, they'd get a half-day break to play football in the camp or go on nearby excursions to catch rabbits.

Every two weeks, they'd get a full-day break to play football in the camp or visit family nearby or save up for a longer break at the end of the year.

"Play-play–plaaay—"

The deep notes of the bugle sounded from the front ranks, cutting off Brune, who lifted his head to see. "What's going on?"

He looked up and heard the bugle call. No battle was coming, so why.

"What's happening?" he wondered, looking ahead.

"Her Highness the Saintess, half-beastman scouts have seen hundreds of giant spiders and dozens of undead gathered ahead by sound and scent," said Brune's voice, riding her horse quickly from the rear to the front, waving her Holy Grail banner, "Prepare for battle!"