Battlefield Priest's Diary

Chapter 72 Attention
As dusk fell, the weather had already turned quite cool. Although it was still the tail end of autumn, the soldiers stationed at the camp had all changed into their winter uniforms ahead of time.

A figure carrying a briefcase nervously walked towards the camp gate, handed his identification to the guard for inspection, and hurriedly prepared to leave.

"It's horrible! It's really horrible!"

"Go! Go now! We can't stay here for even a moment longer!" This voice kept echoing in the mind of the Frenchman Philippe.

Anything that many people have seen can never be kept absolutely secret, and the rumors circulating in the palace that morning quickly reached the ears of the French.

The latest rumor circulating among the attendants is that a priest named Pukin can absorb the life force of the surroundings and channel it to the crown prince to cure his illness.

Although some people said that the sudden drop in temperature was due to a sudden northerly wind that day, this was quickly refuted by others—why did the northerly wind have to come at this time? Isn't that strange?
Others might just have doubts or treat it as gossip, but he truly knew how terrifying the guy opposite him was.

The image of those outstretched, flapping black wings kept flashing in his mind, so much so that he didn't even dare to say goodbye to the Empress, and hurriedly packed his bags to leave.

Fortunately, as a former favorite of the inner court, he had great freedom of passage and was able to pass through the guards smoothly to the outer perimeter of the camp.

As for where to go?

Britain, France, the Far East—anywhere is fine, as long as I'm far away from this guy.

Footsteps approached from afar, and the Frenchman jumped up as if on high alert, only to find the head maid leading several servants toward them.

Good heavens! His Majesty must have found out and sent the head maid to find me. I should have known that leaving without saying goodbye wouldn't work; I should have at least left a letter.

As the head maid drew closer, the Frenchman was at a loss, and finally had no choice but to bite the bullet and walk up.

"Good afternoon, Anna, you look fantastic today." Philip forced an awkward smile.

"Hello, Mr. Philippe, I'm sorry, I'm a bit busy, please make way." The head maid adjusted her silver-rimmed glasses, slightly raised her chin, and walked straight past the Frenchman.

It was as if he didn't exist at all.

Phew~ So it wasn't looking for me after all.

Philip breathed a sigh of relief at first, but then an indescribable sense of humiliation instantly washed over him.

He was once a favorite of the Queen and a highly regarded "master of the occult." Even Anna, the Queen's shadow attendant, treated him with utmost respect.

Well, none of this has anything to do with me anyway.

The Frenchman shrugged, offering himself a mental reassurance, picked up his suitcase, and continued walking, but stopped after a few steps.

More chaotic footsteps approached, and Army Chief of Staff Yanushkevich, accompanied by several officers, walked towards them.

The officers and I have always been at odds, and there have been many frictions between us. Could it be that they came here now because they heard that I was leaving and wanted to mock me?

Thinking of this, Philip straightened his clothes, trying to make himself look less disheveled.

"Even if I have to leave, I must at least retain my dignity and not lose face in front of these guys," Philip told himself.

The sound of military boots hitting the ground grew closer, and the French could clearly see five colonels, led by the Chief of the General Staff, marching menacingly towards them.

Philip puffed out his chest, ready for a heated exchange.

Whoosh~~ A breeze is blowing.

Several people from the Army walked straight past him, their eyes not lingering on him for even a second.

Philip stood there, bewildered as to how his status had changed so drastically in just one day.

Whether they were former allies or so-called enemies, it seemed that overnight they had become insignificant in their eyes.

"I feel like a fruit vendor on the street right now."

Philip sighed, dragged his suitcase, and walked forward with a dejected look on his face.

As the sun gradually sank lower, the dim light cast his shadow long and long.

Quack! Quack!
The crows on the branches tilted their heads and stared at his retreating figure for a while, but finding it uninteresting, they finally cawed and flew away.

All that was left was bird droppings.
-
In contrast to the desolate scene at the camp gate, the drama unfolding inside was one of fierce confrontation.

Unsurprisingly, the Chief of Staff's and the Head Maid's teams met at the door of the black-robed priest.

“Miss Anna, I heard that His Highness the Crown Prince has woken up. Shouldn’t you be by his side taking care of him right now?” Chief of the General Staff Yanushkevich put on a stern face, trying to intimidate the other party with his imposing manner.

“Your Excellency, I’m also curious. Why aren’t you at the General Staff Headquarters when the war in the South is at such a stalemate?” The head maid retorted without backing down.

“I have come to invite Father Pugin on the orders of the Grand Duke.”

“What a coincidence, I am here on His Majesty’s orders to invite Father Putin.”

After saying that, the head maid adjusted her silver-rimmed glasses, stepped aside to make way for her, and said with a mysterious smile, "Why don't you go first?"

Yanushkevich remained silent, his face grim. To act prematurely, knowing it was His Majesty's order, would be a blatant disregard for royal authority. "Thank you!" The head maid nodded, slightly raising her head, and hurried through the passage.

Watching the 29-year-old woman swaying in front of him, the Chief of the General Staff's face turned as black as the bottom of the cook's pot. He quickly pulled the person next to him and instructed, "Quickly report to the Grand Duke that we have failed. The Queen's people made contact with him first."

The person jogged away.

When news of Alexei's awakening and recovery arrived, he quickly took action, with making contact with the mysterious Father Putin being the top priority.

The Grand Duke needs to know the specifics of the Crown Prince's condition: Has he fully recovered? Is there a risk of a relapse? Can that priest cure Alexei's illness?
And most importantly—if possible, what would be the cost?
-
Meanwhile, a man dressed in a black robe, completely unaware that he had become the center of a political struggle, was cooking.

Yes, that's right, it's cooking.

Because he was treating the prince, he was currently under semi-house arrest, and the guards at the gate did not allow him to move around freely.

Confident in the effectiveness of modern medicine, Qin Hao was not worried about his safety, so he simply found something to do in the room.

I flipped through the books on the shelf and found they were all literary works. Nothing of interest caught my eye, so I just put them down.

Upon entering the inner room, Qin Hao was pleasantly surprised to find a small kitchen with readily available ingredients.

If there was any problem in 1914, it was food. Not to mention when he was eating potatoes on the front lines, even in the camp where supplies were more plentiful, his palate was still not satisfied—the food was just too bad.

With nothing else to do, I decided to treat myself to something.

Presumably to avoid any danger, no knives are provided here, but that's alright.

Remove the cross and press the central spring; a sharp dagger appears in your palm, and the onions and potatoes stored in the cupboard are soon shredded into small pieces.

Several spices and fragments were mixed together, and Qin Hao took a ceramic cup and set it aside for later use.

Qin Hao took out the dried meat he carried with him, cut it into small pieces with a knife, and started boiling water on the stove to soak it.

The fire was blazing, and the water was boiling quickly. As the steam rose, Qin Hao felt as if he had returned to the scene of his childhood in his hometown, watching the adults prepare for the New Year.

That was a long time ago.

Hiss~! !
A sharp pain shot through me; I realized I'd been too close to the steam while I was lost in thought, and a red mark had appeared on my arm from the smoke.

Dang Dang Dang!
There was a regular knocking sound. Qin Hao didn't have time to treat his burns. He put down his robe and stood up.

When the door was opened, the head maid and her entourage were already standing outside.

"Has His Highness the Prince recovered?" the black-robed priest asked with a gentle smile, looking towards the door.

"You already know? Has anyone been here?" the head maid asked, somewhat surprised.

“No, it was the smile on your face that told me.” The priest in the black robe remained mysterious and humble.

Anna then realized that she had prematurely revealed her emotions because she cared too much, which was not something that often happened to her.

“Yes, Father Pugin, His Highness has recovered and is now able to eat. Thank you for your miraculous medicine.” The head maid deliberately emphasized the last few words.

"To express his gratitude, His Majesty invites you to dinner. Our people will come to pick you up later." The head maid handed an exquisite invitation to the priest in black robes with both hands.

"Please reply to Your Majesty, it is my honor." Qin Hao felt he had no reason to refuse and raised his hand to accept the invitation.

The head maid could have taken her leave by now.

But as she looked around, she seemed to unintentionally recall something.

“Father Pugin, would you like to freshen up? We can provide a private room, since you will be meeting His Majesty tonight, and the conditions here are a bit…” As she spoke, the head maid casually brushed her hand over the other man’s slightly curly hair.

After tilting my head and thinking about it, I realized that was indeed the case. After all, it was quite inconvenient to wash up here, and my hair was already covered in starch.

Qin Hao nodded and said, "Then I'll trouble you."

The head maid clapped her hands, and a servant quickly stepped forward to lead the way.
“Father Putin, please come with us, we have very nice rooms here…”

As soon as the priest in black robes left the room, the head maid's smile vanished instantly, replaced by an extremely serious expression.

She waved to her entourage behind her and ordered, "Quickly! You only have half an hour. Thoroughly search this room and take away anything suspicious!"

The servants rushed into the room, checking every corner for any suspicious activity, even carefully collecting scraps of paper that appeared in the corners of the walls.

A maid with a somewhat heroic appearance walked up to the bookshelf, picked up the book that had just been put back, and frowned as she looked at the title.

When the priest in black returned to his room after his bath, the head maid had already left with her entourage.

He wasn't sure if it was just his imagination, but he felt like he was cutting less vegetables.

(End of this chapter)