Fairy’s Box

The bright sun shone on the earth. On the large playground of the Garrison Corps, thousands of soldiers wearing only a pair of leather shorts were divided into large and small circles, carrying out routine training at different stages of the day. .

"You bastard, who allowed you to swing your sword like this? Don't think that the crooked way of being a mercenary can run rampant on the battlefield, idiot, I warn you one last time! Here, you are learning the real battlefield killing technique, you must always concentrate Energy, go all out, forget about your fancy swordsmanship, or go home to me immediately! The Seventh Corps doesn't need to be a jerk!"

In a small area on the far right of the camp, a stern-looking centurion was roaring angrily at a soldier, accusing him of his useless swordsmanship. And beside them, the other warriors under training were all silent, sullenly training hard, not daring to slack off.

In the command room, Yale observed the training situation in the camp. He couldn't help but nodded, turned to look at Pompey, who was smiling and said nothing, and praised:

"It's still possible that the military divisions have a way to incorporate the results of the actual combat drills into military merit, and they will all hang up their momentum."

"This is also a benefit of the Weisuo system. Military households are prohibited from making a living except for operating farmland. If they want to make further fortunes and promotions, they can only rely on military merit."

The old man stroked his white beard and said with a hint of pride:

"The corresponding 20-level military title system has not shown any benefits yet, because you have not fought a war, Governor. Once a war is fought, they will taste the sweetness of victory. Over time, they will become tigers and wolves."

"The 20th rank... The 20th rank..."

The black-haired knight chewed it silently several times, shook his head abruptly, and said softly, "Let's change the name to the 20th-level military merit system. If the name Junjue is used, it seems to be beyond my authority."

"It's just a name."

Pompey disagreed a little, but he didn't feel comfortable with his meaning, so he could only compromise: "Since the Governor thinks it is inappropriate, change it according to your opinion."

"Then it's settled."

After speaking, Yalei turned his attention to an area in the northeast corner of the camp, where about 40 or 50 soldiers practiced swordsmanship, but they were different from the trained Huahuazhan, who had all gone through the first stage. Appraisal recruits.

The training received by this group of people is obviously different. They are exposed to the slightly hot sun. They hold wooden swords and wicker shields that are heavier and thicker than real swords and shields. Stab and protect yourself with a shield, punch the enemy's chest with the shield, and then use the sword to deliver a fatal blow from bottom to top.

This is Roservia's military swordfighting. After more than a thousand years of refinement and improvement, there are no extra fancy moves. It is the simplest and most direct method of killing. It pursues absolute killing efficiency and training costs. .

For the military households, these basic actions are extremely boring, especially to test their perseverance and strong will. They must be repeated continuously in order to protect themselves and kill the enemy on the battlefield in the future.

Since it is possible to ignite the fighting spirit, perseverance is definitely not lacking, and the soldiers can still bear such training - most of them also have the ambition to break through the limit and advance to natural disasters.

The southwest corner opposite these people is the essence of the guards. The training of these people is completely different from the previous two groups. They are using real weapons wrapped in thick cloth to fight in pairs. train.

The dull clashing of weapons in the sound of the wind, the collision of shields, the sound of footsteps, and the rain of sweat splattered on their foreheads, faces, and chests sputtered away together. His calm eyes interpret the master's extraordinary spirit.

These people are elites who have really experienced the war and survived the **** battlefield. Unfortunately, they are unlucky. Because of various reasons, they went bankrupt and had to "sell themselves" to survive.

According to Pompeo's 20th-level military merit system, these people are directly at the second level, and the treatment they enjoy is completely different from the rest of the recruits, which is why they can stay in Celtic with peace of mind.

Snapped-!

A discordant sound suddenly came, and Yale turned his attention to the source of the sound. It turned out to be Edith, one of his appointed chief instructors. He walked quietly behind a recruit, suddenly kicked the sword in his hand, and stumbled directly to the ground.

Different from his rough appearance, Edith is not a rough-faced person. He walked up to the recruits sitting on the ground and said word by word in an icy voice:

"You have to be vigilant at all times, pay attention to your surroundings, not be obsessed with one-on-one combat, if you are on the battlefield now, you are already a dead person... Stand up, keep training, your footsteps are sluggish, your center of gravity is skewed, down It's a mess, did you ignite your grudge when you were having **** with a **?"

After he finished speaking, he walked away expressionlessly, leaving only the recruit with a livid face for a long time, a neat turn over and quickly stood up, picked up the dagger, and continued to practice silently. This time, he tried his best to control his center of gravity, and tried to put it lower, and every step he took was firm and powerful.

"This is an excellent officer." Pompeo said in an admiring tone, watching the instructor's back.

"really."

Yale nodded lightly, his pupils flickered, and said like a treasure:

"His name is Edith, a Frankish man, but he served as a foreign officer in Roservia and received the most formal legion training. After retiring and returning to his country, he served as a mid-level officer for a period of time, but he lost everything because of the magic disaster. Now Joining the garrison with his wife, Claire, is a worthy warrior."

"It seems that the Governor attaches great importance to this person."

"Is it important? I can't talk about it, I just need to know the information of everyone under my command." The black-haired knight looked at Edith's back, and suddenly showed a smile:

"I do, however, look forward to his performance."

He set a lot of training items for the military households, but they were not as strict as the new army, but the loose training in the eyes of the Rosevians would not be too loose.

A famous writer who was born in Shechem once said that the training of the Rosevian legion is bloodless fighting, and fighting is only **** training for them.

The training table for military households in the garrison is as follows: ordinary marching, rapid marching, digging trenches, building camps, arranging equipment, swimming, swordsmanship, and fighting. After these basic trainings are over, they will be taken out of the barracks to start armed cross-country exercise along the mountain road. There are two types of marching requirements, one is to cover fifty miles on foot in three hours with full armour, and the other is to force two hundred miles in the same time with full-length steps.

After the run, return to the barracks, take a break in the queue, and have a meal by the way. In the afternoon, the military step training will be carried out on the playground, training how to maintain various combat formations and coordinate operations in the fierce battle situation.

There is also a semi-entertainment activity, that is, the military parade pace training. This is the political training that Yalei promised the local tyrants across the country. We must find an opportunity to let them see the most majestic and heroic military appearance and enhance the confidence of investors.

…

In the city of London, in the attic of a tavern, this was originally a place where the tavern owner used to store some sundries, and was full of empty beer barrels and worn-out boxes. Because it is rarely used, there is dust everywhere, and there are dense spider webs hanging on the beams, and the air is very turbid because there is no circulation.

However, there were quite a few people standing in such a place that was completely unsuitable for conversation or deliberation at the moment, most of them were men, and only one was a slender woman with a pointed-eared tree elf.

Charles' former dog-legged John, dressed as a hunter, stood behind a middle-aged man with a full beard and looked at Elsa with obscene eyes from time to time.

"Your progress is too slow! That person has already started training the new army, but you have achieved nothing, and it is difficult to even meet him. Things are so slack, do you still want this month's medicine?"

The middle-aged man scolded the tree elf unceremoniously. Seeing that she didn't respond, he touched his beard and said coldly, "Your daughter only has nine fingers now, you won't want her to be one less. root?"

Aisha maintained an indifferent expression and said weakly:

"I have tried my best. Arcia is not stupid. Taking the initiative to give her a hug will cause suspicion. Give me another half a month."

"Miss Elsa is too modest."

John walked out from behind the middle-aged man and said teasingly, "As long as you use the ability to confuse Mr. Charles back then to tempt that kid, are you afraid that you won't be able to do anything?"

"Mr. John!"

Miss Tree Elf suddenly raised her voice, looking at him like a dirty stray dog: "If you dare to talk nonsense again, I will strangle you now."

"…"

As soon as John's face turned pale, he subconsciously protected his neck and took a few steps back. It was not until everyone cast a mocking gaze that he reacted and cursed in a low voice:

"That bitch!"

"Enough, John, don't talk."

The middle-aged man waved his hand, motioned him to shut up, then looked at Aisha and said:

"You said it would take half a month, and I'll give you half a month. If you can't deal with that kid after half a month, your daughter will only have eight fingers left."

"…"

Miss Tree Elf's body froze for a moment, as if there was broken porcelain in her heart.

"and also…"

The middle-aged man raised her chin with his fingers and said with a sneer:

"I advise you, don't have unrealistic delusions, that kid is already a confidant of a governor at a young age, and he has a bright future. Think about your identity. You can no longer live as a normal person, weaving Before dreaming, it's best to recall the ugly state of your drug addiction."

Aisha's reserved disguise was brutally torn open by him, and tears suddenly poured out. She was like a butterfly stuck in the mud, trying to fly again and again, but was carried by heavy wings and fell back into the mud again and again.

…

"The address on the note...it's here." Arcia looked up and saw a small old-style wooden house that had no sunlight all year round.

"Miss Elsa, are you there?" He knocked on the door.

"You're here."

Miss Tree Elf smiled and opened the door. The moment she appeared, it was like a noble tulip blooming slowly in the humble flower room. She was wearing a pure white dress with a skirt that only reached her knees, and her slender legs were elegant and moving.

"Hello...that...I'm here!"

He looked at the room at a loss, and found that the furniture and furnishings in the room were also old, even a little shabby. The only beautiful and precious one is the hostess of the wooden house.

"Come in quickly."

Elsa smiled and welcomed the blond boy into the room, and took out the only set of tea sets to make tea for him.

The living room of the wooden house is very narrow, and the bedroom is next to it. Arcia herself is not poor in money. Seeing that the living environment of the woman she admires is so poor, she feels a little uneasy and heartache.

Miss Tree Elf brewed tea in a slightly nicked but very clean glass cup, handed it to the other party, and said apologetically, "I'm sorry, there is no better cup in the room."

The blond boy hurriedly took it and took a sip: "It's nothing, this is fine."

Aisha smiled sweetly, she deliberately put on light makeup, her fair skin was like porcelain, she looked very energetic, and her beautiful face was even more gorgeous than usual. Of course Arcia didn't know that this was the result of the other party taking the medicine in advance.

"Arcia... how long have we known each other?"

She looked at each other with a gaze as gentle as water, and asked with a sigh of relief.

"It's been a few months... Since that chance encounter..."

The blond boy is usually a super squat, and his only hobby is Miss Alice. He has never been so close to such a beautiful woman in his life, and his face is a little red.

"I hate almost all human beings, but you are special." Her red lips almost touched the other's ear, and she murmured:

"In your eyes, what do I look like?"

There was a bang in Arcia's mind, and she only felt that everything in front of her was blurred, and she said dumbly:

"In my eyes...Miss Aisha is also special...You are a strong, confident and beautiful woman...just like Miss Alice...no no no... I mean, you are better than Miss Alice."

"Sometimes... the reality is not as beautiful as I imagined, I am the same." Elsa raised her face, tears flashing in her eyes:

"Perhaps, I may be a very unbearable woman."

As a young man who has been squatting at home for a long time, how can he bear this, he suddenly felt so distressed that he wanted to open his chest to show her: "No matter what happened to Miss Aisha's past, I don't care, I swear!"

"Liar." Miss Tree Elf bit the corner of her lips, and then smiled: "Men are all liars, I thought you were different."