When the Saint comes, she does not collect food

#257 - The swords are sharpened and the blades are out

"This is…"

Looking down at the roast meat sprinkled with white salt, butter, and rosemary on the plate, Bruner looked at everyone in front of him with some confusion.

"It's for you to eat. You're going to the battlefield tomorrow. Eat more." The cook, Brisa, waved away the young and old boys standing at the door, drooling.

Bruner and Jonar, sitting in the cafeteria, looked at each other.

At last night's public meeting, Horn announced the date of the expedition.

The reason for the one-day delay, besides preparing supplies, was to give these war monks time to go home and say goodbye to their relatives and friends.

Bruner didn't feel too nervous, or rather, he was so nervous that he couldn't feel it.

He had breakfast with Gashkur in the morning, and in the afternoon, he went to Jonar's neighborhood, where he played ball with some friends.

Then they went home to pack their luggage and go to the military camp.

Since the latest time to return to camp was 5 p.m., even though it was only 3 p.m., the cafeteria prepared dinner for these departing war monks.

"Aunt Brisa, we often eat meat in the military camp." Jonar grinned as he cut the meat into pieces with a knife, grabbed a kid, and forcibly stuffed the meat into his mouth.

Bruner followed suit, giving each of these half-grown boys a bite of meat, and finally drank all the remaining minced meat and broth.

Aunt Brisa's eyes suddenly turned red. She rushed up and gave each of the three to five war monks a big hug.

"You are all good lads." Brisa wiped her tears with her apron, "If I could, I really wish you wouldn't go to the battlefield."

"We have to go. If we don't go, you will." Patting Aunt Brisa's sturdy back, Jonar comforted, "It's better for us to go."

"No, no… Damn nobles…" Brisa leaned on Jonar's shoulder, sobbing softly.

Bruner stood beside Jonar. Others might not have noticed, but he heard a hint of choking in Jonar's comforting words.

"Oh, my stomach hurts."

Sure enough, Jonar suddenly covered his face after saying a few words and ran towards the toilet.

Bruner couldn't help but smile. He took a step and was about to walk out the door when someone grabbed the corner of his clothes.

It was Old Jonar. He looked a little haggard, with two scratch marks on his neck: "Do you have time to chat? I'll buy you a drink."

Following Old Jonar up to the second floor, the room was too small and there were women inside, so Bruner didn't go in.

Old Jonar went into the room and poured two small glasses of potato root wine, and leaned against the wooden railing on the corridor with Bruner, looking down.

Licking the wine glass, Old Jonar looked at the children playing in the courtyard: "Do you know? Among the ten people in my family, only Jonar is my biological child."

Bruner, who was always "unflappable," instantly widened his eyes. Was it that explosive?

"Lisa and Alita are all children from my cousins' families. Their parents starved to death during the famine, so I adopted them." Old Jonar took another sip, "Before I knew it, I had adopted ten."

Bruner realized that this was the custom of Thousand River Valley, similar to an insurance system based on blood relations.

It originated from the Kushite tribe's custom of raising orphans together.

The people of Thousand River Valley value the concept of kinship, and this custom of adopting orphans from relatives and treating them as their own children has greatly promoted this.

Like Janna, she was adopted by Horn's father, Old Garal.

"See these scratches?" Old Jonar turned his head to let Bruner see the marks on his neck.

"My wife said that I have already made her lose her biological daughter, Karlshensha. Do I have to let her lose her last child again?"

Bruner didn't answer. He was extremely inarticulate and didn't know how to respond.

Lowering his head, he just watched Jonar and his younger siblings playing hide-and-seek in the flower garden.

Jonar was also just a young man under twenty years old.

Thinking about it carefully, he was only in his early twenties and hadn't even married a wife. It was a big loss.

"But I told her that Jonar is going to the battlefield so that Little Jonar doesn't have to go to the battlefield, so that other Karlshenshas don't have to go to the battlefield…"

Old Jonar looked at his reflection in the wine glass and smiled self-deprecatingly: "I can't go to the battlefield anymore, but if you go to the battlefield, if you have the chance, help my wife take care of her children."

"I will."

Seeing Bruner agree so decisively, Old Jonar suddenly laughed: "If there's still a chance, help me kill a knight."

"Okay."

"Don't force yourself. I mean, if you have the chance." Perhaps Bruner gave people too much of a serious impression. Old Jonar was afraid that he wouldn't understand the joke, so he quickly made amends.

Bruner looked at him strangely: "Of course I know."

Looking at Bruner's strange expression, Old Jonar was stunned for a moment, and then couldn't help but laugh.

"In fact, every child in Thousand River Valley is like our child, including you, Bruner. If you had met me earlier, I might have adopted you."

"It would be my honor to have a father like you."

Bruner didn't look at Old Jonar, but looked enviously at Jonar, who was being pounced on by his younger siblings and pretending to surrender.

"Let's have a drink." Old Jonar raised the wooden wine glass in his hand, "To our common enemy and our common relatives."

Staring blankly at Old Jonar for a long time, Bruner slammed his wine glass heavily against Old Jonar's wine glass.

The most ⊥ new ⊥ small ⊥ say ⊥ is ⊥ in ⊥ six ⊥ 9 ⊥⊥ book ⊥⊥ bar ⊥⊥ first ⊥ hair!

"Cheers!"

"Cheers!"

Madland gently tapped the wine glass in his hand on Frick's tombstone. A little wine spilled and seeped into the moist soil.

"Still quitting drinking? I see you old thing can't quit at all." Madland scolded with a smile, sitting cross-legged in front of Frick's tombstone.

Rotating the wine glass between his fingers, Madland had a thousand words to say, but couldn't say a single one.

He originally wanted to talk about how strong the Salvation Army was, how good Autumn Dusk Island was, and how fast these fleeting three months were.

The wine collided in the glass, as if all the words had sunk into the wine.

"The children of Thousand River Valley are going to the battlefield again."

Madland's voice was a little hoarse and dry. He looked at the simple wooden tombstone: "I'm sorry, but if we don't take them to the battlefield, more children will die in the future."

The tombstone did not respond, but a gust of wind blew from afar.

A withered leaf that had survived an entire winter actually fell in the spring breeze and landed on Madland's shoulder.

Taking the withered leaf from his shoulder and unfolding it in his palm, it was so fragile that it seemed to collapse at any moment, but it had stubbornly survived the entire winter.

He clenched the holy statue on his chest.

"Don't worry, I'm here, and His Majesty is also here. When we capture Joan of Arc Castle, when we drive out the Thousand River Valley Church, we will establish a brand new Papal State."

"I promise you that in the new Papal State, every person from Thousand River Valley can go home and have a home."

"Our Papal State will be a country where all children can laugh."

The wind scattered Madland's murmur and turned into the sound of a babbling stream.

Sitting cross-legged in front of the tombstone, the setting sun shone on his side, casting a black silhouette of a person, a tombstone, and countless dawn redwood trees on the ground.

The leaves rustled, and the wind seemed to be complaining or singing, but Madland couldn't tell.

Standing in front of the tombstone, he didn't know how long he had been sitting. His ears suddenly twitched. In the original sound of the wind and water, there were many more things.

He slowly stood up and listened carefully. He heard, in the woods, in the spring breeze, in the grass.

He heard the sound of neat shouts and armor colliding, coming from Autumn Dusk Island, carried far, far away by the wind.

"Blood covers the clouds, knives sharpen soldiers, the heavens send the Holy Son to kill the unrighteous!"

"Unrighteous people, come forward and listen, kill all the unrighteous to achieve peace!"