Chapter 1355: Chapter 83: Rebuilding Nation and Home (11)_3

“What’s next?” Woods asked quietly.

“Next, we wait for the exam papers to be graded and the results to be listed.” Mason sipped his hot honey water and sighed, “The literacy level among the officer corps… is even worse than we expected.”

“Don’t worry, we can teach them.” Woods glanced at the noisy door outside and teased, “Since the Old Marshal’s military academy was able to educate that group of muscle heads to this point, what do we have to worry about?”

Upon hearing this, the two shared a knowing smile.

But soon Mason fell back into his habitual worry. Holding his cup, he fretted, “But where are we going to find so many teachers now? We are so short-staffed! Way too short-staffed! The qualified clerks are already exhausted, we can’t possibly make those guys…”

Mason pointed weakly with his toe to the other end of the corridor, “Become the teachers for literacy? They probably don’t have that much patience.”

Woods was also quite troubled, but after experiencing the Battle of River Valley Village, the once-cautious engineer lieutenant had learned not to worry about tomorrow’s matters tonight.

“Just enjoy the moment.” Woods said with a smile as he walked over to the filing cabinet in the corner, “I know where the scribes hide their liquor, it should be…”

After a brief search, Woods pulled a bottle of wine from the mountain of scrolls, “Here!”

“Do clerks usually drink at work?” Mason was dumbfounded.

“Without some liquor,” Woods replied with a smile, “how else could they endure it? A bit of wine makes the hot honey water taste better.”

Saying this, Woods poured a little wine into both Mason’s and his own glasses.

The dark red wine and pale golden honey water mixed to form a beautiful light pink color.

“To great education.” Woods raised his glass, “For it makes us who we are.”

Mason thought for a moment and clinked glasses with a smile, “And to exams—as expected, coming up with tests is more fun than taking them.”

…

Elsewhere, at Winters’ home.

“Why are there only two?” Winters glanced at the two new spellcaster cadets sitting in the living room, staring at each other, as he poured wine for Major Moritz and asked angrily, “And the other one’s just dumb.”

Smelling the alcohol, Major Moritz’s nose twitched slightly, making his otherwise finely chiseled features appear somewhat awkward.

But the Major ultimately didn’t reach for the glass.

“Having two is already not bad.” The Alliance’s top spellcaster explained listlessly to Winters, “Not having any is normal, too.”

Winters observed the Major closely and asked cautiously, “Have you really quit drinking?”

“I have.” Major Moritz yawned. That lazy gesture felt like something Winters could never imitate in his lifetime.

“Can I leave these two in your care?” Winters asked earnestly.

Major Moritz yawned again, not wanting to say a word more, “If you trust them with me, that’s enough.”

“Come here.” Winters beckoned.

Claude and Vashka shuffled uncertainly over to Winters.

“Originally, there should have been more ceremony, but…” Winters glanced at the drowsy Major Moritz, cleared his throat, and said to Claude and Vashka with a smile, “In any case, congratulations to both of you, you’ve been guaranteed admission.”

It took Claude and Vashka a moment to figure out what “guaranteed admission” meant. Joy instantly overflowed from their eyes; if not for being in front of the Blood Wolf, they might have leapt up in celebration.

Then they heard the Blood Wolf say something they didn’t quite understand: “From today, you have been selected to become the first batch of trainees in the Magic Combat Course at the Second Military Academy, and have the honor of being taught by Major Moritz van Nassau. This signifies absolute trust from me, the Supreme Committee, and even the Republic in you. The following words were told to me when I was selected, and now, I tell them to you.”

Winters grasped Claude’s and Vashka’s hands as he projected a brief, stinging flame of magic from his palm into theirs.

“When you one day wield this power, remember where it originated.” Winters said deliberately, “Do not betray the blood of those who came before you.”

Claude and Vashka nodded in confused but solemn agreement.

Leaning wearily against the wine cabinet, Major Moritz appeared to have a touch of tears in his half-closed eyes.

“Now.” Winters released their hands and ordered, “Step back half a step.”

Claude and Vashka reflexively stepped back in unison.

“Attention.”

Claude and Vashka stood at attention.

“Salute.” Winters also stepped back half a step, saluting alongside Claude and Vasya, “To the best spellcaster in the Alliance, salute!”

Moritz slowly stood up straight, clicked his heels together, and returned a solemn salute.

…

The next day.

Still at Winters’ home.

“Wait a minute.” Half-lying on the bench, Winters pulled the flier away from his eyes and sat up, raising an eyebrow as he looked at the little Priskin sitting across the small table, “Who did you say wrote this thing?”

As the Blood Wolf slapped the flier onto the table, the sensational title printed in bold letters on the first line was revealed to little Priskin’s view:

“Lies, Betrayal, and Massacre: The Complete Story of the Second Night of Blood at Kingsfort.”

“Kai Morland.” Little Priskin murmured, clenching his knees together.