Gunpowder Plate Armor and the Magic Revolution

When the last word was uttered, an odd silence fell over Hoffman's office.

Hoffman waited for Nozer to react, while our dear Nozer remained frozen in his chair, his mind blank.

Father Cisse actually went out of his way to issue him a formal letter of recommendation bearing the seals of the Imperial University and the Federal Church?!

The title of the Theological Seminary of the Imperial University of Valencia carries significant weight in the entire healing magic system. It can be said that Admiral Parnil Rich's theoretical foundation for healing magic largely originated from here.

Father Cisse's letter directly provided him with the official certification he desperately needed.

With this, your resume will definitely be significantly enhanced.

"Cisse had already given me the letter, specifically instructing me to give it to you after all your exams were over. He said your efforts and abilities fully deserved this recognition."

"I've also provided you with a certificate, which is my gift to you. I won't go into the details, as it would sound like I'm praising myself... Anyway, it's definitely a good thing for you."

"Lieutenant Colonel...I..."

Nozer's voice trembled slightly. He stood up and bowed deeply to Hoffmann. "Thank you. I will also thank Father Cisse later. I..."

"Alright, stop with the mushy stuff."

Hoffman waved his hand repeatedly to interrupt Nozer's emotional outburst, "You won't be able to see Cissé; he's already resigned. Otherwise, why would he have me give you this letter?"

"Resigned? Why? Where did Father Cisse go?"

"I'm not sure either. It's probably about dealing with internal religious issues. Protestantism and the Imperial Holy Church have always been at odds... He's probably going back to lead Protestantism."

Lieutenant Colonel Hoffman looked worried, but he forced himself to stay alert.

"Alright, I've signed Cisse's letter too. It'll all be in your file in a bit. Go back and pack your things properly. Tomorrow, wait for the people from your Storm province to select you, then take the ship home. You haven't been home for three years, have you?"

"Yes, Lieutenant Colonel."

"Storm is a great place, if only I could retire someday..."

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The next day, the deafening commands, the muffled thuds of rifle fire, and the roar of cannons that used to fill the military academy disappeared, replaced by an uncontrollable clamor throughout the campus.

Today marks the graduation ceremony for this year's cadets at Norzhe, the final chapter of their three-year military academy career.

The ceremony in the auditorium was shorter than anyone had expected. Principal Field took time out of his busy schedule to come to the military academy and read the graduation address. Lieutenant Colonel Hoffman, as the highest-ranking chief instructor, then gave a speech. He did not read a lengthy list of awards, but only expressed his expectations and encouragement for the cadets' future.

The moment the school flag was slowly lowered and the sound of cannons boomed across the playground, the entire auditorium erupted in cheers.

The trainees tossed their hats into the air, and the cheers almost lifted the dome of the auditorium. Three years of rigorous training, countless assessments, and endless nights had finally come to an end at this moment.

What everyone cared about most had already been neatly posted on the notice board in front of the teaching building during the ceremony.

The red-and-black list covered three walls, densely filled with the names of every graduate and their final assignments.

The students poured out of the auditorium and rushed toward the notice board like a tide.

"Make way! Please!"

Lucas, with one arm around Nozer's shoulder and the other pushing through the crowd like a charging bull, forced his way through the throng. "Make way! We're looking for a name!"

Raymond followed behind, gently apologizing to the students who had been jostled. Andrew, walking on the outermost side, instinctively turned his body to the side to shield the group from the surging crowd behind them.

The four of them finally squeezed to the front of the list, their noses almost touching the paper.

Lucas's eyes widened, his fingers flying across the list as he muttered, "Storm...Storm...Found it!"

He suddenly cheered, his finger slamming heavily on a line of text on the paper, his voice almost overflowing with excitement: "I'm in the province of Storm!"

"Quick, find yours! Yours must be in Storm too! Let me see... Noze Stella, Noze Stella..."

Nozer's breathing softened, and his gaze followed Lucas's finger.

His greatest wish now is to return to the province of Storms, so that he won't be thrown into the trenches on the border, suffer in the unfamiliar province, or be exiled to a remote island overseas.

"Got it! Noze Stella, Warrant Officer of Storm Province!"

After confirming that everything was correct, Norze let out a long sigh of relief. A thin layer of sweat appeared on his back, and he couldn't help but smile.

"How about that? I told you you'd definitely come back!"

Raymond, who was standing nearby, also smiled and came over to congratulate the two, "Congratulations! You can finally go home."

"Stop talking about us, hurry up and find yours."

Noze chuckled and nudged him. "Look where our artillery genius has been assigned."

Raymond's smile faded slightly as he lightly traced the "Center Province" section on the list with his fingertips.

His parents were still in a church in the province of Cent. From the day he entered military school, he had been hoping to go back, to be closer to home, and to spend more time with his parents.

His fingers paused, then he breathed a sigh of relief, a gentle smile appearing on his face, his voice filled with understanding, "Warrant Lieutenant of the Sente Province."

"Andrew?"

Lucas asked, "So? Did you find it?"

"Found it, here it is, Warrant Officer of Kut Province."

Andrew also breathed a sigh of relief.

Congratulations, Andrew.

Raymond smiled and nodded at him, his eyes full of sincere blessings, "You can finally go home."

Noze looked at him and smiled, then bumped fists with him. "I told you your efforts wouldn't be in vain. If we ever have the chance to go to Kurt, you have to take us to see what that knee-high grass looks like."

"must."

Andrew nodded emphatically.

The crowd around the notice board gradually dispersed, some happy and some sad, some hugging their friends and cheering, while others squatted in a corner dejected.

Standing in front of the list, the four of them felt a surge of emotion; all the hardships and exhaustion of the past three years had finally found their place.

The four of them, from three different provinces, with vastly different backgrounds and pasts, became friends with each other at this military academy.

Now, they have all achieved their wishes and returned to their hometowns, ready to embark on their own bright future.

But now, they still need to report to the governor of their province first.

The training ground was scorching hot under the afternoon sun. A row of temporary canvas tents were erected on the yellowish-brown sand. Flags from various provinces fluttered in the late summer wind, blue, green, and gray, like a colorful wave spreading out.

The area under the tent was bustling with noise as recent graduates crowded around the registration points in various provinces, creating a unique lively atmosphere after the annual graduation ceremony.