Trench Bolts and Magic

Chapter 104 Returning Home and the Noblewoman
Once the room was quiet again, Graham walked to the wall.

As he approached, the walls of the room gradually became transparent, eventually disappearing completely.

He gazed at Westminster Palace across the Thames, recalling the brief conversation he had just had.

Although the surviving monk's words were incoherent, the information they revealed made him feel uneasy.

The Saxons seem to have made some kind of progress that he was unaware of.

Otherwise, they could not have inflicted such heavy losses on the Highland Mage Order and the Knights of Garde in Seville.

After a moment's thought, he turned and left the room, heading to the council hall on the top floor of the mage tower.

The space inside this hall is significantly larger than it appears from the outside, resembling the dome of a magnificent palace with an eternal night sky.

Graham briefly explained the situation to the other five archmages in the council.

He personally believed that the surviving monk might have genuinely suffered from some mental problems, and that his testimony might contain exaggerations and distortions.
However, he also expressed his concerns—that the Saxons might actually have something in their hands.

“I think we may need to reassess the Saxons, especially their spellcasters.”

"You mean we need to send someone over?"

A voice came from the shadows of the main seat.

Graham: "Speaker, we will never be able to uncover the truth from within the tower."

"I understand, I will make the arrangements."

With the release of the joint communiqué of the three nations, the Saxon expeditionary force's attack on Madrid was officially halted.

Although the so-called 'joint development' proposal may take forever to be implemented, it's unclear when all the wrangling will end.

Not to mention projects like mining pyroxene, which require massive investment.

However, in discussions with other officers in the 'keyboard group,' Morin also basically came to the following conclusion:
In the short term, unless one side has a brain fart and deliberately 'stabs' the other side, the two sides should not be able to fight.

However, the mess that had been raging in the Kingdom of Aragon was no longer a concern for Morin and his group.

Because the 16th Brigade, which had been fighting the longest in the Kingdom of Aragon, and several other units that had suffered heavy losses in the early battles, had all received orders to return home for rest and reorganization.

Morin's 32nd Tsvika Rifle Regiment was also among the first to be withdrawn.

The troops broke camp again, but this time, they headed towards the station in the rear.

There's not much to say about the march itself, but the soldiers were clearly much more relaxed than when they first went to the battlefield.

On many people's faces, one could even see an irrepressible joy and anticipation.

No matter how the bigwigs at the negotiating table play their games, for these rank-and-file soldiers who have survived countless battles, being able to avoid fighting and return home alive is the greatest blessing.

"Company Commander, how long do you think we'll get leave this time?"

A newly arrived soldier, somewhat excited, mustered his courage and asked Morin, who was standing to one side of the line.

"Why? Are you homesick?"

Morin was in a good mood at the moment, so he didn't dwell on any disciplinary issues, but instead smiled and patted him on the shoulder.

"My fiancée is still waiting for me at home," the soldier said, scratching his head sheepishly.

The surrounding soldiers burst into laughter.

"Wow, you're so young and you already have a fiancée?"

"Company commander, don't listen to his bragging!"

A fellow recruit who joined the army at the same time immediately began to expose his past—a 'unique aspect' that the military has to experience.

"He hasn't even held a girl's hand!"

"Hahaha"

A joyful atmosphere spread through the group.

These soldiers, who had just crawled out of hell, finally felt relieved after learning that they could go home, and regained the vitality that young people should have.

Looking at them, Morin felt her mood improve as well, and she relaxed considerably.

Moreover, being able to escape the battlefield and return home was his greatest wish since coming into this world.
After returning to Saxony by military train and transferring to a regular passenger train, the 32nd Infantry Regiment finally embarked on the final leg of its journey back to its base in Tswickau.

Before the train even arrived at the station, Morin and the others could see through the train windows crowds waving flowers and black eagle flags on both sides of the railway.

Clearly, besides the diplomatic 'victory'...

The Saxon government has successfully conducted a round of propaganda within the country regarding the war in the Kingdom of Aragon.

These victorious soldiers have become heroes of the empire in the eyes of the people.

So when the train slowly pulled into the station, each company organized its soldiers to disembark and come to the square outside the station.

A large crowd had already gathered there, mostly the soldiers' families.

"father!"

"Hans! I'm here!"

"My son! You're finally back!"

The square outside the station erupted in chaos. If it weren't for the military police and police who had arrived early and maintained order, Morin estimated that he would soon have lost track of his own company.

The soldiers could no longer contain their excitement; all they wanted to do was rush to their families and embrace them tightly.

At this moment, the cruelty and bloodshed of war seemed to have been cast to the winds.

Unfortunately, Morin had already received orders from the battalion headquarters in advance.

Although the soldiers of the 32nd Infantry Regiment will indeed be given a long leave.

But before they were to be disbanded, they had to return to their base—hand over all their weapons and personal equipment, and change into clean civilian clothes.

By this time, the soldiers who had experienced a series of fierce battles had reached their limit in their longing for home.

Many people looked longingly at their superiors, hoping to go home as soon as possible.

But Morin, Sergeant Klaus, and the platoon leaders strictly enforced orders and disciplined the troops, and began marching towards their post.

However, they underestimated the enthusiasm of the families.

They didn't even need anyone to organize them; they simply carried flowers and various homemade flags, marching alongside the column on both sides.

They kept calling out the names of their loved ones, and gradually it turned into a large chorus of Saxon folk traditional songs.
The Saxon Empire adopted a mechanism similar to 'local recruitment', so most of the soldiers in the 32nd Infantry Regiment were actually locals.

So, apart from military families, most of the citizens of Tswickau also spontaneously came to both sides of the road leading to the 32nd Infantry Regiment's base to offer their warmest respect and cheers to the triumphant soldiers.

"Long live the Empire!"

"Welcome home hero!"

Some young girls were even boldly throwing kisses and exchanging flirtatious glances with the soldiers in the ranks. This prompted Maureen to exclaim to Klaus beside her, "Look, Klaus, this is what a vibrant, youthful scene looks like! You won't find this on the battlefield!"

Klaus looked at the young soldiers winking and making faces at the girls and smiled, "Yeah, if I were twenty years younger, I might be just like them."

Surrounded by flowers and cheers, the troops finally returned to their familiar barracks.

The first thing Morin did upon entering the camp was to immediately order the entire company to hand over their weapons, equipment, and all gear.

At the warehouse entrance, quartermasters were busy as equipment covered in gunpowder and dust was inventoried and stored—the local logistics personnel would clean the uniforms.

Of course, this service is only available during long holidays.

In most cases, Saxon soldiers had to clean themselves, or they simply didn't have time to clean themselves on the battlefield.

"Everyone, make sure you check carefully! Not a single bullet is allowed to leave the camp!"

Although the entire company had already handed over their ammunition before boarding the vehicle, Klaus shouted from the side, unable to hide the smile on his face.

Seeing the lively scene, Morin breathed a sigh of relief.

He went to the logistics officer and specifically instructed him: "Turn on the hot water in the boiler room so that all the brothers can take a good hot shower and clean themselves up before going home."

However, some soldiers were already impatient and couldn't wait to rush out of the camp after handing over their equipment.

Morin saw this and called out to them with a smile:
"What the hell is the rush? They're all marinated to perfection, are you planning to go home and suffocate your families with the stench?"

"And those impatient ones, don't think I don't know what you're thinking. Be careful, your wives won't let you into bed tonight!"

Everyone burst into laughter and rushed towards the bathhouse.

This was perhaps the fastest shower these soldiers had ever taken; none of them chatted or boasted in the bathhouse as usual.

After washing up and changing into clean and tidy uniforms, the soldiers began to leave the camp in twos and threes.

At the camp gate, Morin, who had also finished washing up and changed into his officer's uniform, stood there, smiling and greeting each departing soldier.

"You guys, go home and spend some time with your families, stop thinking about drinking all the time!"

"By the way, remember to come back on time when your deadline is due, or I'll have to bring the military police to your house to arrest you!"

"Company Commander, don't worry!"

"Goodbye, Lieutenant!"

The soldiers responded with laughter, creating a relaxed and pleasant atmosphere.

However, as fewer and fewer soldiers remained in the camp, the once bustling camp gradually became empty and quiet.

The smile on Morin's face gradually faded.

When the supply train and field kitchen soldiers also rushed out of the gate excitedly, carrying large and small bags.

Apart from a few logistics personnel responsible for daily maintenance and sentries temporarily sent from the reserve battalion, only Morin and Sergeant Klaus remained in the entire camp.

"Klaus, you should go home soon too, your family must be getting impatient."

Molin said to the sergeant who had been by his side the whole time.

Klaus opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but seeing the slightly forlorn expression on Morin's face, he swallowed his words.

"Company Commander, I'll be going now. You should also go home and rest early."

Klaus gave Morin a solemn military salute, then turned and left the camp.

Watching Klaus's departing figure, Morin stood at the entrance of the deserted camp, overwhelmed by an unprecedented sense of loneliness.

He suddenly felt that this cold barracks and training ground might be his only home in this world.
After all, places outside the battlefield and the camp were still somewhat unfamiliar to him.

So all he had to do was wait here until the holiday was over, and his soldiers would return.

The noise, the training chants, the awful coffee in the field kitchen—everything will go back to normal.

He will then be able to regain the closest connection with this world.

"Damn, wait a minute. Am I going to get PTSD after this battle?"

Just as Morin was worried that he wouldn't be able to return to a normal life, he noticed that as the crowd outside the camp gradually dispersed, there was still a black carriage quietly parked in the same spot, not having left.

"Is this car here to pick me up?"

This guess couldn't help but flash through Morin's mind, after all, everyone who was going to leave had already left the 1st Company's camp.

At the same time, an elderly man dressed in a smart butler's outfit arrived at the camp gate, but was stopped by the sentries.

When Morin approached with a puzzled expression, the butler bowed deeply to him and spoke in a respectful tone:
“Young Master Morin, Mrs. von Falkenstein is waiting for you in the carriage.”

Morin was taken aback.

Then, as a memory quickly flooded his mind, he learned about the 'Mrs. von Falkenstein' the butler had mentioned.
That was the mysterious 'noblewoman'—Cecilia von Falkenstein.

A widow, only thirty-five years old, who is the head of 'Falkenstein-Eisenstein United Industries,' the empire's largest supplier and refining company of brilliance crystals, and possesses enormous wealth.

In my memory, the other person was my mother's best friend, someone I considered as close as family.

After Maureen's parents passed away when he was young, she supported him financially, or rather, took care of him, acting like an older sister to him.

After pondering for a moment, Morin took his luggage to the carriage, hesitated for a moment, and then boarded the carriage.

The carriage was dimly lit, filled with the scent of leather and a cool, vetiver aroma.

A sliver of winter sunlight shone through the car window, outlining the elegant silhouette of the noblewoman.

The first thing Maureen noticed was her eyes—a unique and cold gray-blue.

He could feel a faint, burning emotion beneath the ice when those eyes looked at him, but it vanished in an instant.

Her voluminous, honey- and platinum-colored long hair was meticulously styled into an intricate and elegant updo, coiled at the back of her head.

The other person was wearing a well-tailored white dress, and a smile appeared on her lips when she saw me.

"Fritz, you're finally back."

Her voice was soft and pleasant, instantly putting Maureen at ease.

"Mrs. Cecilia".

For a moment, Morin was unsure how to address the other person.

In the memories that flooded his mind, he had always affectionately called her 'Sister Cecilia,' but now that the words were on the tip of his tongue, he felt it was somewhat abrupt.

Cecilia seemed to notice his embarrassment and chuckled softly.

"What, have you become distant after winning a battle on the battlefield?"

(End of this chapter)