When the Saint comes, she does not collect food

#115 - Attacked!

The night deepened, and the evening grew colder, even the sword thistle gradually retracted its upright green leaves.

In the camp, ten carriages were connected end-to-end, protecting the two sides of the encampment.

As for the relatively open front and rear, they were surrounded by spiked wooden stakes and chevaux de frise.

Through countless defenses against attacks and pursuers, the villagers were incredibly skilled at this, almost subconsciously completing these protective measures.

Along the way, quite a few people had been attacked by magical creatures, wildlings, beastmen, and wild animals.

The night watchman and his bugler were patrolling the perimeter of the carriages, utterly bored.

As he walked, the night watchman said with a touch of emotion, "Look at us, just farmers a month ago, and now I'm practically a general."

"Alright, alright, we know you're a general." The bugler, lacking a clockwork rifle, glared jealously at the sacred rifle and muttered, "And I'm just a sacred little general... What's that?"

Seeing movement in the bushes, the bugler companion immediately became alert.

The night watchman looked in the direction he was pointing, a beam of light shone into the bushes, only catching a glimpse of grayish-yellow fluff.

"It's just a rabbit." The night watchman and bugler immediately breathed a sigh of relief, turning their gazes elsewhere, the light following their movement.

The two relaxed and continued their patrol.

Unlike ordinary soldiers, the night watchman had donned an earth-yellow robe to avoid being mistaken for an enemy in the dark.

On his brimmed helmet, a wooden cylinder about three fingers thick was mounted, emitting an orange-yellow glow.

Whenever he turned his head, a blurry beam of light could be seen moving with his neck.

It was a glowstone placed inside the wooden cylinder.

This glowstone was also an alchemical product, requiring the use of monster bones to create.

Recently, Horn and his group had killed quite a few monsters, and Horn had used their bones to make about a dozen glowstone lamps.

Glowstone is a type of bone stone that undergoes a slow alchemical reaction. In a dark environment, it requires very little mana and can emit light without any imagery.

Of course, the low requirement only applies to the familiars' mana; non-wizards still can't use it.

It only needs a sprinkle of lime powder every one or two hours to catalyze its mana absorption.

Its mana consumption is so low that even the person with the weakest mana can use it until dawn.

Its only and biggest drawback is that the light is relatively dim, not as bright as a lamp, but it's better than nothing.

It's small, lasts a long time, doesn't occupy the hands, is rainproof and windproof, and the light source is very stable, so it's often used as a light source for night watch patrols.

Horn also made a very interesting discovery: the glowstone's mana absorption actually depends on distance.

Horn could light the glowstone from more than five meters away, and it would be brighter than normal, while the rifleman had to wear it on his forehead for it to work.

At this moment, illuminated by the glowstone lamp, Horn sat at a desk, carefully tracing the images on the tarot cards.

He was tracing the Tower card from the tarot deck.

A tower reaching into the clouds was struck by lightning, flames erupted from the top, and two people fell from the collapsing tower.

This was the only imagery related to lightning, which might enhance Jeanne's combat power.

According to Sisi, meditation is an effective way to control mana, and even witches can benefit greatly from learning it.

Since its invention, tarot meditation has replaced other miscellaneous meditation methods.

Eventually, it even usurped the name of meditation, and people thought that tarot was the only meditation method.

It was summarized by the legendary wizard Mongjeff.

Through collection and experimentation, Mongjeff discovered and summarized twelve of the most effective internal images that could mobilize mana, and arranged the twelve images in order according to the distance of mana flow and the amount of consumption.

Subsequently, this set of meditation methods was continuously patched, improved, and added to by other wizards, forming the current stable twenty-two tarot cards.

Among them, the Magician is first, the World is twenty-first, and the Fool is the link for reversal, like an Ouroboros, transforming the first-order World into the second-order Magician imagery, circulating endlessly.

For wizards, from the second generation onwards, the use of spells required precise manipulation with meditation imagery.

By the fifth generation, it was completely impossible; their mana was so mixed that they could not release spells and could only use imagery meditation to make the mana flow, making it easier to be catalyzed during alchemy.

Nowadays, the most practiced internal imagery by the Four Legions is the Fool, because it can both exercise mana control and put the least pressure on the soul.

In fact, Horn had some doubts about teaching the villagers meditation, he would definitely have to run away with his rifle.

If these villagers were taught meditation, what if they were caught and treated as witch familiars, children of the devil, or wizards?

It wasn't anything else, it's just that they really were.

But thinking about the uncertain future ahead and the dangers that might be encountered in the Wild Spider Forest, Horn decided to teach them anyway.

He only promised to do his best to ensure the safety of the villagers on this journey; he couldn't be a nanny for these villagers for the rest of his life.

Like Horn, they couldn't use spells subconsciously, so as long as they were careful, it would be difficult for them to be caught by demon hunters.

After arriving at Jeanneburg, Horn would still have to continue to Black Serpent Bay.

At that time, these villagers, those who wanted to stay would stay, those who wanted to follow him...

If they were willing to follow him after knowing the truth, Horn wouldn't refuse.

In Horn's estimation, there shouldn't be many such people, after all, he was playing a joke at the cost of his life.

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After completing the last stroke of the Tower, Horn put the stack of Tower drawings aside.

He took out a notebook from his pocket and began his daily recording.

It was Horn's diary from Gulag to the present, used for reviewing.

At the beginning, there were quite a few words, but later, as the situation deteriorated, the number of words became less and less, and eventually it became almost a military notebook.

From logistics allocation to reconnaissance routes, from camp management to marching formations, how to go faster? How to prevent diseases and insect bites? How to handle route distribution? How to determine the current location?

In all aspects, in general.

There were pits that Horn had stepped in, attempts after failures, experiences heard from others, and his summary based on previous life theories, all in this small booklet.

With 1,200 lives in front and the pressure of transcendent knights behind.

Horn was forced to become someone who could command 1,200 people as easily as his own arms and fingers, from someone who couldn't even organize a spring outing well.

So people still need to be forced to live.

Picking up the pen, Horn fell into thought, he had been relatively smooth recently, didn't step into any pits, and didn't know what to write.

"Buzz—"

A deep horn sound pierced the night sky.

"Bang!"

"Hiss hiss hiss!"

After the gunshot, a scalp-tingling sound of alien movement rang out, and instantly, the entire camp woke up.

Toward the direction of the sound, Horn stood up in surprise and uncertainty.

The second horn sounded again, but stopped abruptly halfway through.

Throwing down his paper and pen, Horn put on his breastplate, helmet, grabbed his clockwork rifle and cloak, and ran out of the tent.

At this moment, the child soldier who came to report was already waiting outside the door, and among the carriages in the distance, torches were lighting up one after another, converging towards the scene.

"Where is it?"

"Bang!" Another gunshot.

"Where is it?!"

"General Mengse's area."

ps This chapter is a draft, I may have to go out for dinner tonight, but I should be able to have another chapter when I get back.

Don't worry, I'm a stubborn person who only accompanies meals, not drinks.