In the Name of Empress

Chapter 683 385: Suspected Minority Language_2

Slightly versed in swordsmanship?

Ah yes, yes, yes, that's what the nobility always say. They love playing with fencing, even distinguishing between foil, heavy sword, saber, and other variations.

Hamos never denies that fencing is a very fashionable and noble sport, but he also never believes that swordsmanship can play any role on the battlefield in this era.

In front of firearms and cannons, swordsmanship is meaningless.

Those nobles who fancy themselves as swordsmanship masters will choose firearms and spears as their weapons when on the battlefield.

Swordsmanship masters all understand that attack range is the most prioritized attribute of a weapon.

Hamos unhesitatingly regards Roland as a young noble with no practical experience, but very good at putting on an empty show.

Compared to playboys, this type of self-important guy is more headache-inducing.

Hamos was silent for a moment and saluted Roland very politely.

"Esteemed Viscount Dorothy, the Prudon Kingdom has the ability to protect its citizens, as well as citizens of friendly countries."

"Alright, I believe you. But my promise remains unchanged. If there's a need..."

"Then I will trouble you, Viscount, when I return." Hamos politely interjected.

Roland nodded, turned around, and left.

Watching his graceful departing figure, Hamos heaved a sigh of relief, paying no further mind.

He became more convinced that Roland was just another gilded youth abroad in the South Continent.

To pave the way for his quest for power, he needs some grassroots work experience.

Like "representing the nation on a diplomatic mission to the South Continent to solve XX issue for an ally" sort of resume.

Hamos was not surprised at this kind of behavior, even in the Prudon Kingdom, which was in an ascending phase and whose officialdom was still considered clean, such actions were not uncommon. How could the heavily corrupt Vladimir Empire escape unscathed?

He was even pondering how to provide Viscount Dorothy an opportunity to shine so that glorious achievements could be recorded in his resume.

Perhaps they could find a way to annihilate the nearby Yehu tribe and invite Viscount Dorothy to guide in person.

Since the request has been made, it wouldn't do to let him leave empty-handed.

Lieutenant Colonel Hamos merely entertained the thought for a while before his attention was drawn to his busier work, no longer thinking about this matter.

While he continued to be busy, Roland returned to the suite at the top floor of the town hall.

As a nobility on a diplomatic mission representing the nation, he indeed had the privilege to receive official receptions, and he could righteously enjoy all of this.

Although the conditions here were almost rural compared to the Winter Palace and Eden back home, Hamos still adhered to the highest standards of hospitality.

"The stereotype of the Prudon middle-level officials, possessing the potential to become an army Vice Admiral or even higher."

This was Roland's objective evaluation of Hamos.

Putting down the book in hand, Lisa stood up with a smile, took Roland's coat, and hung it on the unvarnished, smooth coat rack next to them.

"The reason stereotypes form is not because of individual cases, but because of common traits."

Lisa said softly.

This was something Roland himself had said, and she was using his own words to remind him not to mind other people's business.

Roland did not continue this topic and only said lightly, "Other matters can be ignored, but the Prudon Kingdom is an important member of the Alliance, and Duke Reinhardt is the special mobile force commander. I can't just watch them suffer."

"Are you feeling guilty for leading the enemy southward?" Lisa was a bit surprised, could such a feeling as guilt appear in Roland?

Roland couldn't help but pinch her soft, full cheek and said sternly:

"Is this the kind of image I have in your mind?"

"It's not guilt, but I don't want a flaw left in my mentality. It is a fact that I went south to help the tribe draw Yehu's attention, and it's also true that they are attacking the Prudon Kingdom."

"Alright, then I'll accompany you." Lisa closed her eyes, enjoying Roland's seemingly rough yet actually gentle kneading.

Heading south does not have a destination but only one goal: to find traces of the previous generations of the Divine Punishment Legion.

The Divine Punishment Legion won't vanish into thin air; they must still exist.

Not only do they exist, but they have even developed and grown, preparing to respond to the Goddess's call at the critical moment to give the disobedient tribes a severe blow.

Skyrim Province might very well hold useful clues.

So Skyrim Province must be under the Alliance's control.

Roland might not like the Prudon Kingdom, but he will certainly protect them.

"Unfortunately, that fool Hamos doesn't understand your good intentions at all."

Roland shook his head with a smile, without saying a word.

People can never imagine things beyond their comprehension. Lieutenant Colonel Hamos might have heard of the famed strike of Sofia White Mountain, might have heard stories of a city destroyed by war machines.

But his instincts cannot accept these.

Even if he could accept them, he couldn't accept that a playboy could be such a formidable person.

Roland picked up Lisa and moved towards the bedroom.

Sister Lisa is the most beautiful color in this somewhat dull journey.

It's easy to move from frugality to luxury, but hard to go from luxury to frugality. Roland, long accustomed to top-level enjoyment, finds it hard to endure the hardships of living in the open.

He needs Eden, more so the gentle embrace within Eden.

...

While Roland was working late into the night, Hamos, who was busy until late as well, still hadn't rested.

He was pondering as he went through the documents at hand.

The recent work has been relatively smooth, with only one matter leaving him vaguely uneasy.

The four scouts he sent north haven't returned.

The last carrier pigeon they sent was three days ago.

The sentries discovered a large gathering of Yehu a hundred miles away in a valley.

Clearly, the expansion route of the Prudon Kingdom was something these Yehu could not accept.

They have united, preparing to fight against the Kingdom to the end.

To this, Lieutenant Colonel Hamos could only feel like laughing.

If these Yehu scattered and harassed, they might cause trouble for the Kingdom Army, but confronting them head-on is pure suicide, isn't it?

According to the sentries' observations, this army is the elite among the Yehu.

They wear leather armor, and the arrowheads of their bows are iron, and can even form simple formations.

Truly... elite indeed.

If these guys went back to the early Odin Empire, perhaps they would have a chance to create a miracle like annihilating the Imperial Legion in the Black Forest battle.

But not now.

The Prudon Kingdom has recently created brilliant achievements in the field of technological archaeology.

Although they don't dare to excavate the war machines, they have replicated the production line for breech-loading rifles, and even used this technology to exchange for significant resources from the Alliance.

The Skyrim Province garrison is equipped with 13,000 breech-loading rifles with standard rifling, and the bullet range exceeds 300 meters, with a terrifying loading speed of one round every two seconds.

Just one battalion, no, one company of elite infantry, can defeat tens of thousands of Yehu.

This was Lieutenant Colonel Hamos's estimation.

In fact, his estimation was considered conservative in the army. The radicals even believed that one battalion charging could demolish tens of thousands of Yehu.

This is the charm of archaeology, even more so the crushing power of Alamanni technology.

How could the Prudon Kingdom fear mere Yehu?

Hamos yawned, packed away the documents in front of him, and returned to his bedroom.

He quickly entered dreamland, beginning to fantasize about getting promoted by a level or even gaining an additional silver star (Brigadier General) after the Skyrim Province campaign.

Carrying beautiful visions of the future, he slept soundly.

He was even forcibly awakened by the deputy officer who burst in his bedroom door.

"Lieutenant Colonel, something bad has happened!"

Hamos glared at the deputy officer, muttering under his breath: "Lieutenant Colonel is not so good indeed, anyone dragged out of bed wouldn't feel great."

"My apologies, Lieutenant Colonel, that wasn't what I meant."

The deputy officer's face flushed, "The Yehu have intruded, they used explosives to blow open the North Gate and have already stormed into the Northern Avenue."

Yehu, explosives, breach...

Hamos was not unfamiliar with these words, but together they sounded like a foreign dialect, perhaps Odin Language, to him.

He recognized every word, but couldn't understand the sentence.

Fuguang realized Hamos was dumbfounded, shook his head vigorously, and bellowed:

"Lieutenant Colonel, Rama Town cannot hold! Hurry, go! I will try my utmost to buy you time to break through and retreat!"

Hamos slapped himself hard, finally awakening from the nightmare.

He remained silent for a moment, coldly ordered the deputy officer, "You immediately lead the cavalry to break through and inform the General of this bad news."

"Lieutenant Colonel, what about you?" The deputy officer was anxious.

"You excel in riding, and only you can handle this task, hurry, it's an order!"

Hamos gave the deputy officer a kick, sending him flying several meters away.

Looking at the flames rising outside the window, Hamos shakily opened the drawer, took out a Brownie pistol, and pointed it at his temple.

"Farewell, this worl..."

Wait, he might still have a sliver of hope, though not much, not entirely impossible.

Viscount Dorothy was still upstairs, calm and composed.

To be this calm, either he's an idiot, or he's a hidden powerhouse.

Hamos prayed silently, hoping heaven favored him.