When the Saint comes, she does not collect food

Chapter 933: Triangular Flags and Medals

When little Hart walked out of the dim cabin, the scorching sun made him squint his eyes and block out the sunlight with his hands.

After a long while, he slowly lowered his hand and looked clearly at the scene in front of him.

The rows of inverted V-roofs were filled with people watching the fun, and the night watchmen blew their whistles to call them down.

Beneath the red brick and white walls are blue-gray stone slabs, extending out into geometric mosaic flower beds and two rows of May trees.

Further ahead was the dock where the troop transport ship docked. It was dark and crowded with people.

Women in aprons, men with black fingers, citizens in tweed waistcoats, farmers in pigskin hoods… they waved their hands, opened their mouths and jumped, all towards the soldiers in front of them.

Just as sound is associated with light and shadow, when little Hart saw clearly what was in front of him, the deafening noise and cheers flowed into his ears.

"Leya, eat shit!"

"Long live Her Majesty Horn, nine thousand years old Her Majesty Jeanne, nine thousand years old Her Majesty Carrie!"

"Victory, victory, victory!"

"The damn devil was finally driven away!"

"Dudududu——"

The calls, trumpets, lutes and bagpipes were noisy and melodious.

With a backpack on his back and a package in his hands, little Hart followed the military chaplain in a daze.

Line up, walk across the deck, step onto the pier, thousands of colorful confetti flying in the air, land on the soldiers' shoulders and heads.

When the chaplain gave the order to dismiss, the soldiers scattered like wild horses.

Some soldiers cheered, dropped their packages, and squeezed through the crowd to hug and reunite with their families.

Some knelt on the ground, kissed the ground and cried, while others ran to the tavern with their arms around each other's shoulders.

Citizens waved jihad bonds and shouted at the top of their lungs, while soldiers' families also crowded into the crowd and shouted out their children's names.

"Raka, Raka, where are you?"

"Mom, I'm here!"

"My Masru, you are finally back. May the Lord and the Holy Grandson bless you to come back."

Of course, many family members received a military uniform and a medal, and there were also parents who collapsed, had water poured on them to rescue them, and then woke up crying.

Looking at the woman who cried until she fainted, was rescued, and cried again until she fainted, Little Hart's hands holding the package suddenly broke out in sweat.

After saluting the military chaplain, Little Hart took out a map and walked in one direction.

Today, Chateau Joan of Arc is immersed in joy.

Triangular colorful flags were hung on the streets, black and red sun flags were hung at the doorways of restaurants, and many pubs even offered a 30% discount for ordinary customers and half-price drinks for soldiers.

In many places, the practice of catching a son-in-law from under a boat was even performed.

That is, the old knights and guild merchants were waiting under the ship, and whenever they saw someone with a medal on the chest or an armband on the arm, they would pounce on him, pick him up and run away.

Of course, the intention was not to kidnap them, but to bring them home to introduce their daughters to their future husbands.

Some officers with weak wills had never seen such a scene before, so they went to the city hall to register their marriage without thinking.

Some military priests and clerks sighed with regret, thinking that secular nuns, daughters of small landowners and citizens, and daughters of farmers were the most suitable marriage partners for them.

The streets were filled with people reveling and drinking, as the Jeanne d'Arc town hall announced that drinking would be allowed on the streets for the next three days.

After all, in the previous Leia invasion, although they were harsh in words, they were still afraid in their hearts.

That's the church, that's the great knight, that's the entire kingdom of Leia.

But now it seems that it is nothing more than that.

In the face of their brave people of Thousand River Valley, brave people of the Holy Alliance, and brave believers of the Holy Way Sect, they were still beaten and fled.

The illegal Pope Priano, no wonder he is called illegal, fled in panic without even a face-to-face encounter with the real Pope Horn.

So what if he was the Great Knight? Wasn't he still captured?

What about King Jinegis? Wasn't he still a prisoner?

What's wrong with a hundred thousand troops? We, the Holy Alliance, can defeat them with only twenty thousand men!

"We defeated the Leia people, we defeated Lavr, our Holy League is invincible!"

Drunk citizens were sleeping in the streets, and even when they were unconscious, they were still yelling at Little Hart.

At this moment, many citizens and farmers who had suppressed their fear to the extreme naturally wanted to vent.

After this emotion is released, a sense of pride arises naturally.

Look, this is my country, look, we won.

Look at the people around you. Although they have conflicts on a daily basis, compared with the Leia people, they are real brothers.

Of course, there were still some who didn't believe it and slandered this great victory, but they could only stay in their own yards and complain to themselves. Many of them were happy at first but then became numb.

After all, the dividends brought by victory have not yet fallen on them, so how much can their daily lives change?
Amid the jubilant scene, the smile that had just appeared on Little Hart's face disappeared again.

He came to the outskirts of the city and took a horse-drawn train. White steam rising from the industrial area floated in the air.

The carriage rocked and the wheels clattered against the rails.

As the car was rocked, little Hart seemed to have returned to his mother's cradle, and gradually he fell asleep leaning against the wall of the car.

He was suddenly awakened only when the train driver came to call him.

Carrying a heavy square bag and carrying luggage on his back, Little Hart quickly came to a sentry post and handed his regiment monk certificate and travel permit to the sentry.

Soon, two military police came trotting over and helped little Hart take over the heavy bag.

A sentry tried to take the bag that Little Hart was holding, but he gently moved aside and said, "I can take this myself. Let's go."

The housing area in the legion's territory was not large, and after walking a few steps, Little Hart arrived at the destination of this trip.

He glanced at the mailbox and doorplate in front of the house, which were made of mahogany and firmly nailed.

The house number reads "Wolowitz and Martha Poussin's Home," and the mailbox reads "13 Black Champion Second Camp Straight."

Putting the bundle on the stone table beside him, Little Hart straightened his clothes, untied the bundle, and picked up a wooden box.

Little Hart, who was bloodthirsty and decisive on the battlefield, was sweating and nervous at this moment.

Standing in front of the door, he nodded to the gendarme, who then knocked gently on the door.

Little Hart memorized a long passage of words on the way, but when he saw the "most beautiful woman in the world" as described by Wolowitz, his mind went blank.

He couldn't say a word.

Martha, who had a round face, had not lost the weight she gained during pregnancy. She had a ponytail and an apron tied around her waist, and in her arms was a skinny, little child who was as small as a rabbit.

Behind her was a half-finished baby cradle.

Looking at the military police who took off their hats on both sides, and then looking at little Hart who opened his mouth and stammered for a long time without saying a word, Martha already understood.

She took the initiative and asked, "What's in the box?"

“…The box contains the ashes of the battle hero Wolowitz Psent, who was awarded two first-class medals, three second-class medals, and was posthumously named Chapter Master.

The box also contained Wolowitz's military uniform, his personal effects and a bank certificate containing 90 pounds sterling and 30 pounds sterling in bonds.

In addition, all educational expenses for your child will be covered by the Holy League and the Chapter until he graduates from high school, and if he is able to enter college, then he will graduate from college.

If you need a job, the Holy League and the Chapter will provide you with free training and introduce you to a simple job..."

As he spoke, Little Hart's voice gradually became slower and slower, until his voice disappeared altogether.

Martha in front of him had trembling shoulders and her lips were tightly clenched. She tried her best not to cry in front of others.

But bean-sized tears fell from her eye sockets, ran across her cheeks and chin, and dripped onto the face of the child in her arms, leaving tear marks on the pink little face.

Little Hart had lost all his strength and courage. He murmured, lowering his head like a humble servant, as if begging: "I'm sorry, Mrs. Pousent, we couldn't save him. He, he lost too much blood..."

"No, no, I am being rude." Wiping away the tears from the corners of her eyes with a handkerchief, Martha made way for her. "Would you like to come in and sit down?"

Little Hart didn't know how to reply, but was greeted warmly by Martha, followed by two military policemen.

This is to prevent any bad rumors from spreading.

Martha tied the child to her chest with a bundle and carried the three officers on her back, busying herself in the kitchen, while the three men in the living room were fidgeting.

After sitting for a long time, Little Hart couldn't help but stand up and said, "Mrs. Pousent, I will stay here for the next few days. If you have any questions, you can always come to me."

He was really stupid. What were these strangers doing here at this time? They should have notified the neighboring woman and her parents to come over.

As soon as he stood up, Martha carried him on her back but did not turn around, still stirring the red broth.

When Little Hart reached the door, he remembered something and asked the two gendarmes to leave first. He walked to the kitchen door and said, "Mrs. Pousent, have you named the child?"

"Not yet." Martha's voice trembled. "I'm waiting for Wolowitz to come back and get it."

Little Hart took out a piece of paper from his arms, a piece of paper that was soaked in blood and then dried.

"When I found this paper, Wolowitz had already... almost all the names on it were covered in blood. I asked Wolowitz which one it was, and he said the one that was not covered in blood."

Putting the paper next to the stove, Little Hart tiptoed out.

Martha stood by the stove for a long time before she sniffed and picked up the paper again.

Looking at the name on the paper, Martha could no longer stop her tears. They kept flowing down her eye sockets, but she was smiling.

She held the child in her arms, kissed his forehead, and whispered with tears and smiles: "Your father has given you a name, did you know? My child, you have a name."

Holding the child tightly in her arms, Martha whispered, "My child, Howard."

(End of this chapter)