During the winter military training in Baron Keane's territory, an interesting episode happened.
During the second military training, a large group of farmers were lined up on the grain-drying field, receiving instruction from a junior officer. They were training hard in formation and stab. The sentry in charge of the village's observation tower suddenly screamed and rang the alarm bell.
Every village or town's observation tower had an alarm bell. Once the sentry found out that there was an emergency, the bell would be rung. When the bell was rung, the old, the weak, the women and the children had to hide as quickly as possible, while the young and strong had to immediately gather and try to defend against the danger.
This was a common practice in all parts of the Main Plane. Every settled race had similar practices.
As soon as the bell rang, the farmers immediately panicked. The last time the bell rang was when Krieg's brother, Baron Gersan Keane, was still in power. At that time, a terrible monster, a troll, came to his territory. Gersan was seriously injured when he led a team to eliminate the monster. Before he could be sent to the temple for treatment, he had already stopped breathing.
That was already five years ago. For most people, five years was a long time, so long that many people had forgotten about that terrible experience. But now, when the bell rang, the terrible memories from five years ago surfaced in the hearts of those who had come into contact with the monster. They couldn't help but feel their legs tremble, and they almost couldn't stand properly.
That terrible monster had a grayish-green body that was like a small hill, and it was covered with thick moss. It was very strong, but what was even more terrifying was that it was almost impossible to kill. More than once, brave soldiers stabbed their sharp spears deep into its body, and green blood gushed out. But in the time it took to say a sentence, the blood would stop gushing out, and in the time it took to say a few words, the wound would start to heal. It was simply incredible.
The brave Baron Gersan suffered from this. At that time, he led a group of people and tied the monster up with strong ropes. They worked together to pull it down, and then they swung their axes and ruthlessly chopped the monster's head off. Blood flowed all over the ground.
At that time, everyone thought that the monster was dead for sure. How could it not die after its head was chopped off? But on the way back to show the monster's body, an accident happened.
The severed head regrew, and the "corpse" on the cart regained its vitality. The resurrected monster leaped into the air and swung its fist at Baron Gerssen, who was riding on his horse. The poor Baron was sent flying, and his body was almost deformed.
Thanks to the combined efforts of the soldiers and the hunters, the monster was tied up again, cut into pieces, and burned to ashes. However, Baron Gerssang lost his life due to his heavy injuries.
They didn't know what kind of monster it would be this time. If it was the same as the last time … then it would be fine. After the last time, everyone had gained some experience. He was afraid that it would be something terrifying. For example, a legendary giant dragon or something …
The farmers were obviously overthinking things. Of course, there were Colossal Dragons in the Duchy of Thunder, but which Colossal Dragon would be so bored as to come and attack a small village?
Is there anything the dragon wants here? Shiny gold coins? Jewels used to decorate caves? Food with strong vitality?
There was nothing here. To a giant dragon, it was a barren land!
After a while, the militia, led by an officer, saw the attacking monsters.
They were two Ogres that came out of nowhere.
The ogre was tall, about … Assuming the height of a certain popular author who wrote about teenage boys and girls, it was at least twice the height of the author, if not slightly taller. Unlike the trolls, the Ogres were stinky and extremely strong. They used thick wooden sticks as weapons and ate whatever they caught. Humans were naturally part of their diet.
This kind of monster was very dangerous and often caused serious damage. Although they didn't have the immortality of the trolls, they were more destructive than the trolls. After the trolls were full, they would find a place to sleep. Sometimes, they could sleep for three to five days after eating one meal, but the Ogres ate two meals a day. The difference in their appetite was shocking. Not to mention that the trolls were omnivores. If they couldn't find any animals to eat, they would make do with grass. The Ogres were different. They had to eat meat and were passionate about capturing creatures that couldn't run fast and lacked combat power … That was how they got their name "Ogre."
If they followed the rules from last time, the militia that tried to tie up the Ogres with ropes would suffer heavy losses. After all, the Ogres were stronger than the trolls, and they were good at using sticks. Their combat power was much higher than the trolls'.
Fortunately, the junior officer leading the training had read about the Ogres during his studies. As an elite of the new army, he firmly remembered the information of the common or particularly dangerous monsters, and the Ogres were one of them.
So he immediately began to make arrangements, mainly to quickly transform the spare spears into javelins and gather the hunters to arrange the formation. Fortunately, the Ogres didn't come quickly. By the time they arrived outside the village, the preparations were already done.
Then, a fierce battle ensued.
The strength of the Ogres was incomparable to that of a normal farmer. If they tried to fight in close combat, even a hundred people would be defeated in one blow. But with the help of the two hunters in the village who used their bows and arrows to lure the Ogres to an open area, what awaited them were a dozen javelins.
When the Ogres roared in pain because of their injuries, the officer led the team closer and threw out ropes and fishing nets, temporarily trapping the Ogres. Then, he threw javelins.
In the end, the brave officer led a few strong villagers and ended the battle with the javelins.
The battle didn't last long, but it had a great impact. A mere officer led a few dozen militia and two hunters, and with simple weapons, they killed the two terrifying Ogres. Even in the brave areas where even children could use swords, this was a glorious achievement. Moreover, Baron Keane wasn't a place where brave people came from. Here, culture and art were popular. Even the farmers liked to sing and dance in their spare time, not to fight.
But it was this group of scholars, or artists, who did what ordinary warriors couldn't do!
Crick praised the officer named York for this and gave him a bonus and a medal. As a hero who led a group of farmers to kill the two Ogres, he deserved this honor.
Interestingly, York himself also benefited from this battle. His professional level, on the basis of the original Level Four Soldier, was added to the level of Sergeant.
A Level Five combat level was enough for him to be called a professional. More importantly, "Sergeant" was a profession in the direction of command. York was able to understand this profession in this battle, which meant that he had the talent in this area.
Commanding was a very rare talent. A talent who could understand the profession of commanding without special training, and only by cramming and battlefield practice, was worth cultivating!
So after the commendation, York's job was transferred. Crick contacted the head of the Church of the Void Mask's Knights through Archbishop Miloman, the legendary master "Steel Giant" Mr. Gerrard. He sent a generous gift and entrusted Mr. Gerrard to let York learn the knowledge of being an officer in the Void Mask Knights.
Contrary to his fierce appearance, Mr. Gerrard was a very kind and easy to talk to. He didn't want to accept the gift, but he couldn't stand Crick's repeated pleas. Finally, when he accepted the carefully prepared gift, he actually blushed a little.
This made Crick secretly amused, and he was more assured of the character of this legendary strong man. He believed that York would be able to learn well in the Knights.
The Baron of Keane could confer three titles as knights, and there was still an empty seat. If York could become an excellent commander, then maybe he would become the last knight of the Baron.
"The Territory of Keane is still too small, and there are still too few people …" After sending York away, Crick sat in a chair and pondered for a long time. He couldn't help but sigh deeply.
He had already used his ability to detect that among the civilians of the Territory of Keane, there were no more gifted or outstanding talents. If he wanted to find such talents, he could only search elsewhere.
Fortunately, a few years had passed, and the management of the territory had formed a virtuous cycle. When the fruit trees were ripe, the herbs could be picked, and the workshop for making fruit wine was built, everything should be fine.
Writing up to this point, he felt a little pain and stuffiness in his chest again. He put down the charcoal pen that was recording his scattered thoughts, patted his chest gently, and couldn't help but cough again.
"This illness seems to be getting worse …" This time, he coughed for a while before gradually subsiding. He picked up the healing potion mixed with honey next to him, took a sip, and sighed in a low voice.
He had investigated his physical condition in detail and asked several priests for help. The conclusion was basically the same: although he came back from the battlefield of "The Day of the Sun's Death" alive, he was involved in the most intense battle as a mortal, and his body was contaminated by many kinds of divine power, forming curse-like symptoms.
The priests could dispel the curse on him through prayer. Even if the curse came from the divine power, a master like Archbishop Miramon could help him dispel it. But because the various divine powers in his body had vaguely formed a balance, even Archbishop Miramon did not dare to act rashly. He was afraid that if the balance was destroyed, some of the divine powers would suddenly burst out … At that time, Archbishop Miramon would probably be able to withstand it, but even Crick's soul would probably be destroyed, and it would be impossible for him to be resurrected.
So he could only tolerate these divine powers fighting each other, treating his body as a battlefield. In the process of fighting, his body, of course, suffered greatly. Even though he had been taking care of his body and often took healing potions, he could only barely maintain it.
Now he spent more than a hundred gold coins drinking healing potions every month. Fortunately, there was Priest Morton to help heal him. Otherwise, he didn't know how much money he would have spent!
"It's like a bottomless pit!"
Crick sighed secretly. Now he only hoped that these divine powers would fight each other as soon as possible. No matter which side won, even if he got seriously ill, it didn't matter. It was better to get the pain over with than to get it over with. At least it would save him trouble in the future!
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