CHAPTER 550: CHAPTER 528: ADVANCING TOWARDS DAWN IN THE NEW YEAR

As the year-end approaches, a shadow of war drifts over the lands of Langsande County.

Starting mid-December, more and more messenger cavalry began appearing on the formerly peaceful streets.

The military police announced that a two-month curfew would begin in Joan of Arc Castle from the 27th.

Every morning when residents of Joan of Arc Castle wake up and open their stained glass or oilcloth windows, they can see soldiers in black marching in neat formation.

These soldiers wear identical black jackets, draped with a short cape reaching only to their elbows, and leather ankle boots on their feet.

Occasionally, they can also see Kush Knights from the south, groups of Holy Gun Cavalry, and even some students hastily arriving from Frick Middle School.

Previously, most of the Salvation Army’s legions comprised Child Soldiers serving as Service Soldiers, growing up on the battlefield, studying while fighting, destined to be an independent force outside the Horn government.

However, with the current sixteen legions of the Salvation Army, Child Soldiers are in short supply, so Horn thought of using the students from Frick Middle School.

Thus, the semester-end social practice activity of Frick Middle School became going to war.

Of course, Horn wouldn’t let them go to the frontline; they are only responsible for post-battle tasks such as cleaning the battlefield, transporting wounded soldiers, and tallying war losses and spoils.

Since the 25th, every morning at the dock, black-clad War Monks can be seen lining up to board transport ships, some crying, some indifferent.

Amidst the city’s awakening horn blasts, troop-laden transport barges slowly advance, with cries and cheers echoing from both riverbanks.

The cries come from the families of the soldiers, and the cheers are from those citizens who bought Holy War Bonds.

They wear tight knee-length tunics in black, blue, and brown, standing on the stone-paved roads beside the river, constantly waving their Holy War Bonds at the passing soldiers.

With the army mobilization, the first batch of troops was fully deployed by December 30th.

The two legions led by Jeanne, totaling 1125 people along with six hundred cavalry, had all arrived timely at Rapids City.

Meanwhile, three Black Hat Legions from Lower Reif County were successfully deployed to Xiaochi City on the same day.

It must be said, having a river is convenient; in five days, a troop of nearly two thousand people can be transported from Joan of Arc Castle to Rapids City and back.

Once the barges returning from South Nao’an River after transporting the Black Hat Legion return, the time required for sending the remaining four legions to the Rapids City and South Nao’an River defenses would be even shorter.

On New Year Festival day, two vanguard legions of 1200 Salvation Army reinforcements are scheduled to depart.

Due to the previous night being New Year Festival’s night, the number of War Monk families coming to see them off was several times higher than usual.

Unlike the Black Hat Legion, which consists mostly of refugees with few family members to see them off, often only having a single page for their household registration.

These War Monks of the Imperial Guard are mostly locals, requiring spotless backgrounds and tall, robust youths.

Even if they have no parents, their popular standing is good, naturally attracting many people to see them off.

The dock was steaming with heat, vibrant triangular flags hung over rooftops and trees.

Bread and hot soup vendors, well-wishers, those here to witness the spectacle, and those running back to their groups hurriedly mingled together, turning the whole dock into a black, chaotic stew pot.

Everywhere were shouts of "You’re stepping on my foot!" "You’re pulling my hair!", blending with the distant sounds of whistles and horn blasts, piercing the ears.

Under the suppression of military police and Night Watcher, they barely made way, allowing the neatly lined War Monks to board the ships.

Standing amid the crowded masses, Seching looked on with deep emotions at the tearful yet orderly youths boarding the ships step by step.

Even having witnessed such scenes several times, he still felt a trace of shock.

Identical clothing, identical actions, even their stride was almost the same.

Though tears welled in their eyes, they still tried their best to stand tall, supporting the Salvation Army uniforms on their bodies.

As the soldiers stood on the deck in neat rows, the surging black figures already projected a kind of unspoken majesty.

"Mr. Seching, when will you be boarding?" Legion Commander Lauren approached, tipping his hat in salute to Seching.

Seching looked at this Legion Commander younger than his own daughter, his gaze complicated: "I tend to get seasick, let me know when the ship is about to leave."

"Alright," Lauren nodded professionally, turning to begin counting the black-clad soldiers in attendance.

Seching took a wineskin from his pocket and gulped down a mouthful of acorn wine.

This was a specialty from North County, but it’s hardly drinkable unless distilled.

The alcohol content is considered high in the Empire, a strong liquor favored by dwarves living in cold regions.

With the nutty liquor warming his gut, Seching’s body gradually warmed up.

By the original plan, he should have already departed to meet Gray Horse Knight Veen in Deer Horn Town.

But with signs of movement from the Church’s military in Mande County, the Salvation Army blocked the passage through Daze Village.

Thus, Seching had no choice but to head towards Rapids City first, hoping to make contact if Veen’s offensive proceeded smoothly.

Seching had to follow Horn, as returning to North County wouldn’t help much, so he might as well go to the battlefield to see what these so-called Salvation Army troops really amounted to.

As the horn blew three times, Seching fastened the stopper on his wineskin and boarded the barge on his own, not waiting for Lauren to ask.

Flags waved/fluttered, and amidst the resounding horn blasts, twenty-eight barges untied their anchors and moored lines one after another, drifting slowly along the river current.

Standing along the sides, the War Monks finally saw familiar scenes moving past, with low sobs occasionally heard.

But this was inevitable; this group of Imperial Guard Monks were mostly recruits.

They were heading to battle for the first time, fear was natural, but there always had to be a first time.

"Eighty acres of good land, and gentle in-laws..."

Seching raised his head in confusion, on the ship ahead of him, someone suddenly began singing the Salvation Army’s most familiar song.

"Song of Hope."

At this moment, Horn standing at the bow of the foremost ship raised his head, eyes showing a trace of nostalgia; it had been a long time since he sang this tune.

Without accompaniment or harmony, the hoarse and youthful voice sang the first verse alone.

When he began the second verse, others started to join in, first one or two, then the whole boatload of War Monks singing along.

"Growing your grain, more labor, more harvest..."

By the third rendition, not just the War Monks, but even the civilians on the riverbank were singing in unison.

The original cries and noisy sounds faded away, amid the repeated horn blasts, only the singing remained.

Between the river and buildings, the entire city sang this modestly jubilant song of profound significance to the Salvation Army.

People stood beside the river in a row, even on rooftops, quietly standing, singing this simple, joyous tune again and again.

Until the soldiers could no longer see the flags of Joan of Arc Castle, they gradually ceased singing.

The winter morning light floated upon the river like a myriad of golden threads.

Yet these golden threads were quickly sliced apart by the black hulls, scattering into cold splinters of water.

Nearly thirty transport barges formed a line, soldiers onboard likewise standing along the sides in a row.

Cold winds fluttered the black and red crossed banner of sword and gun, the hulls floated and sank in icy waters, silently advancing towards where the sun set.

Amidst the Song of Hope, Horn and the Guard Battle Group sailed towards Rapids City on January 1, 1446.