OBS Chapter 624 Reward
Chapter 624 Reward
"This Eagle Group is quite powerful."
In the secretarial room of the standing legion's headquarters in the east of Midland, parchments were piled up like small mountains, and several worn-out feather pens were placed next to the ink bottle.
The steward in charge of verifying military merits took off his tortoise-shell glasses and rubbed his sore nose.
The butler spread the document flat on the oak table and read it carefully several times by candlelight.
When he saw that the Eagle Regiment, which consisted of only about 500 people, had single-handedly conquered a castle garrisoned by thousands of people, his thick eyebrows suddenly raised, and the feather pen in his hand fell into the ink bottle with a "click", splashing a few black stains, and a few drops fell on the corners of the document, leaving a small, blurry mark.
"What is the identity of this Griffith? Is he the illegitimate son of some noble?"
The steward turned to look at the official beside him, his voice filled with disbelief and his brows furrowed tightly.
"Otherwise, how dare you write about such a victory?"
"Not really."
The official quickly shook his head, took out a handwritten appendix from the pile of files, and tapped on it with his finger.
"According to Griffith himself, he is a civilian in the country. His parents died young, and he started working as a mercenary in his teens. He only formed the Eagle Group last year."
"That would be strange."
The steward pushed the document to the center of the table, making a rustling sound. He stared at the line of battle description written in carbon black ink:
"The Eagle Regiment attacked the castle at night with 500 soldiers, beheaded over 300 Yoda defenders, captured over 700, and suffered only 23 casualties on their side."
Although he had never fought in a war, he had read various military merit application documents over the years and learned about some things on the battlefield.
According to common sense, it is very rare for the few to defeat the many in a siege, especially when facing a garrison of a thousand people. Even if the enemy's morale is low, the crossbows and arrow rain on the city wall alone can kill most of the 500 mercenaries, not to mention breaking through the sturdy city gates and clearing out the defenders in the city.
What made the steward frown even more was the current situation. The king had recently been very strict in verifying military merits. Last month, a knight under the king's command falsely reported the number of beheadings. As a result, he was thoroughly investigated by the king. Not only was he dismissed from the army, but his title and territory were also inherited by his relatives.
In this situation, even if one has status and connections, one would not dare to easily submit such exaggerated military merit documents. But now a civilian appears and dares to write clearly that he "conquered alone", which is really weird.
"Butler, could it be that this person really has some talent?"
The official on the side spoke hesitantly.
"I've read the detailed records. They did launch a surprise attack at night. The vanguard used explosives to blow up the city walls and open the gates for follow-up troops to follow. If this is true, and once it's confirmed, should we report it to the king?"
In his eyes, the siege was able to achieve such results, which was one of the best results reported so far. Generally, those who made outstanding contributions to the war and applied for titles and high-ranking official positions would be handed over to the king for decision.
"Are you stupid?"
The butler slammed the table so hard that the quill in the inkwell jumped up. He pointed at the clerk and raised his voice a little:
"If you report this man to the king, what will those nobles and generals think? They've studied for over a decade, led troops in battle for at least eight or ten years, and command troops numbering at least a few thousand, sometimes tens of thousands. Yet, they're no match for a commoner and his mercenary group who appeared out of nowhere?"
The manager felt a little disappointed with his subordinate. He thought his subordinate was good in every way except that he had low emotional intelligence and was too methodical in his work.
"Will you still want to continue working here?"
The official shrank his neck, his Adam's apple moved, and a hint of fear appeared in his eyes:
"If we don't report it, and His Majesty the King finds out and holds us accountable..."
"What are you afraid of?"
The steward rolled his eyes and reached out to tidy up the paperwork on the desk, his movements somewhat irritable.
"His Majesty the King has to review hundreds of documents every day, from border battle reports to palace expenses. How could he have the time to focus on the battle to capture a small castle? It's only because this castle is near the city of Rhone and has an important strategic location that I wouldn't be so troubled otherwise."
He stroked his already thin hair. In the siege of Rona City, both Midlan and Yoda's armies had deployed tens of thousands of troops. If he suppressed this, he would be doomed if the king suddenly had the urge to ask him to submit all the documents regarding the military merit applications in Rona this year.
"It seems that's the only way."
The butler pulled out a new piece of parchment from the drawer, held down the corners with his hands, and his wrist trembled slightly when he picked up the quill. It wasn't because of nervousness, but an old habit from years of writing at a desk.
He lowered his head and wrote on the paper for a long time. The rustling sound of the pen tip rubbing against the paper was particularly clear in the quiet office, as if it was the footsteps of time passing.
After writing, he picked up the parchment and blew gently to make the ink dry faster.
"Our headquarters has determined that the Yoda army within Glass Castle is exhausted and demoralized after a month-long siege. The fortifications have suffered numerous breaches."
The steward read it aloud, carefully choosing his words word by word.
"Griffith's Eagle Regiment, with the assistance of its subordinate armies, launched an attack late at night. Their vanguard used cloud explosives to blast through the city walls and successfully opened the gates, allowing the main force outside the city to enter smoothly."
He paused and added.
"It is worth noting that the Yoda defenders' combat effectiveness was drastically reduced due to the prolonged siege, and the city's food and fodder reserves were insufficient. This was a major factor in their rapid defeat."
The official came over to take a look and suddenly realized:
"You're making the enemy seem vulnerable, while also exaggerating the role of other armies."
He pointed to the modified part of the document, and a glimmer of understanding flashed in his eyes.
"The original 'night raid of 500 men' became 'a feint attack with the assistance of affiliated troops,' and 'solo attack' became 'the main force will follow up.' This has greatly reduced the importance of the Eagle Regiment."
"Not only that."
Seeing that his subordinates were gradually getting the hang of it, the manager nodded with satisfaction and added a sentence at the end with a feather pen.
"After verification, the content of their application for military merit is highly consistent with the facts. Therefore, the Eagle Group is hereby awarded one hundred gold coins."
He blew the ink dry and folded the parchment neatly, his movements gentle and careful.
"Look, this way of writing it is consistent with the process and won't make the Eagle Group stand out too much. One hundred gold coins are enough to appease them. After all, for a mercenary group that came from civilian backgrounds, it's good enough to get real money."
"Besides, he's just a commoner, he doesn't know the rules of rewarding people, so he'll be satisfied with just a random monetary reward. Even if he's favored by some important figure and gets promoted in the future, he won't bear a grudge against us, after all, we didn't withhold his military pay, nor did we deliberately suppress him."
"Look, when I retire and you take over, you have to write it like this, otherwise you will throw away any chance to make friends with the powerful."
Watching the official's departing back, the steward leaned back in his chair and rubbed his swollen temples.
He looked up at the dim sky outside the window, then lowered his head to stare at his already thin hair. In recent years, in order to climb the ladder, he had stayed up late to check documents, and his hair had become so sparse that his scalp was visible on top of his head.
He remembered that he had also worked his way up from a grassroots clerk, and only by choosing the right backers did he manage to get this position in charge of verifying military merits.
"If you really have real talent and ability, then just take your time and persevere."
The steward muttered softly, tapping his fingertips on the document on the table that had been altered beyond recognition.
“This is just the beginning.”
……
"Notify all teams to pack up, we have a new mission from above."
In the Rona Territory's base near the front line, a damp and musty smell filled the makeshift tents. Griffith stood in front of the table and announced the combat missions to the captains.
The candlelight in the tent flickered, casting everyone's shadows on the canvas wall, distorting as the flames jumped.
"Huh? We've just rested for a while, and now we're going to fight again?"
Gorkas leaned lazily against the wooden box. He curled his lips, his tone full of obvious impatience:
"Last time I attacked Grasse Castle, I was nearly exhausted. I just took a breath, and now I'm heading out again?"
"Griffith, where are we going this time?"
Jie Du, who was standing next to him, looked at Griffith with a darker look than before. His eyes, which were always calm and relaxed, now had a solemn and uneasy look. It seemed that he was also a little nervous about the destination he was going to.
Griffith raised his head slightly, glanced at the captains sitting around him, and finally stopped at the map on the table, on which various strategic locations were marked with red ink. Griffith took a deep breath, then pointed with a wooden stick at a city surrounded by a thick red circle.
"Just as you imagined, it's Rona Territory's hell on earth—Rona City."