Gunpowder Plate Armor and the Magic Revolution

"Over here! Storm's flag is over there!"

Lucas immediately spotted the blue flag with white waves on the far east side of the training field.

That is the symbol of Orentia, the surging waves of the Emerald River, an imprint deeply ingrained in the minds of every Orentia person from childhood.

They might not recognize the flag of the Federation, but they would definitely recognize the flag of the Republic of Orentia.

Although saying this might be a bit too hurtful to the staff of the Federal Publicity Department who work day and night to promote the idea that "the people of the Federal Republic are one family," it is the truth.

As Lawrence Cresston, the Union Minister of Publicity, lamented at the Union Assembly: "What kind of Union are we? At best, a crumbling military alliance!"

Despite the hardships, they did achieve something. At least they successfully brought officers from various republics and provinces together in the same military academy, breaking down geographical barriers and allowing them to get to know each other.

At least in the future, if things really come to the point where we have no choice but to fight each other, and the younger students beat up the older students, then out of consideration for our alumni relationship, we can at least show some mercy.

Getting back to the point, Nozer and Lucas rushed to the shed entrance, and just as they lifted the canvas curtain, they were met with a deafeningly loud voice.

"...What do you mean by too much luggage? I don't want your pile of useless stuff! I want people, people! You bunch of idiots, either throw your stuff away or get the hell out of here and don't come back to Orentia!"

The space inside the shed wasn't small, but it was completely filled with that thunderous voice.

Behind the table directly opposite the door sat an extremely burly man, whose dark brown beard almost covered half of his face.

The top button of the Orentia Army uniform was undone, revealing the lining stretched taut by his muscles. A row of medals was densely pinned to his left breast, the top one being the Medal of Honor for the great victory in the heart of the Thirty Years' War.

The stars on his shoulder insignia shone brightly in the sunlight; this was Major General Billgin Thunder of Storm Province.

At that moment, he was slamming his fist on the table, glaring at the two students in front of him who had bowed their heads and admitted defeat, spitting as he spoke.

His eyes, as big as copper bells, were wide open, and an aura of someone who had been through many battles emanated from him, scaring the two trainees so much that they could only bury their heads in their chests like ostriches.

On the other side of the table sat an officer who was the complete opposite of Major General Bilkin.

Wearing a well-fitting military civilian uniform without any rank insignia, and with his hair neatly combed, he couldn't hide the fatigue and dejection in his eyes.

He seemed to be slumped in the chair, his eyelids drooping, as if he could fall asleep at any moment.

With an unlit cigarette between his left fingers and a pen in his other hand, he slowly wrote something on the roster in front of him. The surrounding noise and Bilkin's roar seemed to be separated from him by an invisible wall, having no effect on him whatsoever.

The sign in front of him read "Monet von Schonfeld".

Nozer and Lucas exchanged a glance and instinctively stopped in their tracks. Only after Major General Bilkin had scolded the two cadets away did they step forward, stand at attention, and give a standard military salute.

"Reporting, sir! Lucas Hunter, a graduate of the Province of Storm, is here to register!"

"Reporting, sir! Noze Stella, a graduate of the Province of Storm, is here to register!"

Their voices were strong and clear.

Bill King Kong picked up the kettle on the table and took a big gulp. Hearing this, he looked up and glanced over. His big, round eyes lingered on Lucas for a moment, then lit up instantly.

He slammed the water glass on the table with a bang, stood up, strode over, and slapped Lucas on the shoulder with a hand as big as a fan, so hard that Lucas staggered.

"You're Lucas Hunter?!"

Bilkin's booming voice hurt their eardrums, but his face was full of undisguised smiles. "Not bad! Not bad at all! I've heard of you, the swordsmanship 'master' of Orentia. You have the spirit of one of our Orentia boys!"

Lucas's back went numb from the pat, but he remained standing ramrod straight and replied loudly, "Yes, Major General!"

"Good! Good lad!"

Bill King laughed even harder when he saw that Lucas could withstand his slap. He patted Lucas on the shoulder again before turning his gaze to the somewhat thin Nozer beside him. He raised an eyebrow, clearly showing little interest.

This is a classic case of comparison; although Nozer has a very well-proportioned figure, he still appears slightly "thin" compared to Lucas.

Before he could speak, Monet, who had been listless, suddenly raised his eyelids.

His gaze was unfocused, yet it landed precisely on Noze's face. His voice was low, with a slightly sleepy hoarse quality, "Are you Noze Stella?"

"Yes, sir!"

Noze immediately responded and saluted again.

Monet nodded, slowly flipping through the roster in front of him, his fingertips tracing the pages and stopping at a particular line.

His movements were slow and deliberate, carrying an aura of death. Even when Major General Bill King's gaze swept over him, he remained half-dead.

"An A in Magic, an A in Swordsmanship... A healing mage personally recommended by Professor Cisse Ashford?"

Monet raised his eyelids, glanced at Nozer, and said emotionlessly, as if reading the most boring daytime news, "Hoffman also gave your file special approval."

Upon hearing this, even Major General Bill King was taken aback. His gaze towards Nozer changed completely, instantly filled with surprise and high regard.

The Federation's military is most lacking in reliable healing mages, let alone geniuses with recommendation letters from professors at the Imperial University's Theological Seminary.

An officer who can fight and heal, with both swordsmanship and magic skills at an A level, would be a highly sought-after asset in any regiment.

"Good lad! You've been hiding it well!"

Major General Bill King slapped Nozer on the shoulder again, this time with less force, but it still felt heavy. "Good! Excellent! My chief hundred-man squad is missing someone like you!"

Nuoze staggered slightly from the pat, quickly regained his balance, smiled, and respectfully replied, "Thank you for the compliment, Major General. I still have a lot to learn."

"Are you still General Leopold Stella's biological son?"

Upon hearing this, the previously lively tent immediately fell silent.

General Leopold Stella is the commander of the Emerald, one of the three standing corps of the Orentia Army.

He is also one of the seven permanent members of the Emerald Palace, the highest authority in Orentia.

Bilkin was serving as a centurion in the chief centurion of the Emerald Legion, and his direct superior was General Leopold.

Of course, each legion has dedicated civil servants to handle politics and deal with various departments and committees. Although their positions are likely above Major General Bilkin's, they are in different systems and are not Bilkin's direct superiors.