After my rebirth, Miss Saint turned evil

No problem. In fact, considering the past of the Kingdom of Leiden and the autonomous city of Philos, it is not surprising that they have a sense of fear and rejection towards this side, so this level of request is within the acceptable range.

Moreover, the letter was stamped with the lord's own seal, which was better than expected.

Stroking his gray stubble, Old Jed narrowed his eyes.

"I thought that as the captain, I would be looked down upon by them."

Old Jed played with the bottle, and the wrinkles on his face deepened.

That expression was as if he was thinking about how to deal with the letter. Beside him, his adjutant Neymar frowned slightly and blinked.

In the military structure of the Kingdom of Leiden, there are two major organizations: the upper and the lower.

The higher-level organization was the army composed of the upper-class nobles. They were allowed to claim titles such as national protector or executive officer, and were granted corresponding authority and the status of leading the elite trained by the country.

Correspondingly, the lower-level organizations were the troops belonging to lower-ranking nobles or people of commoner origin.

People from lower-level organizations will not be appointed to positions above captain, even if they have made great achievements and radiate heroic spirit.

The soldiers they could lead were not the country's elite, but a mixture of recruits and mercenaries.

Likewise, the Knights' Orders were divided into higher or lower orders based on character.

Perhaps it is because there is a clear gap between superiors and subordinates in the military. If the person leading the troops is only at the captain level, there will be many cases where they will be looked down upon by the person they are negotiating with.

Although they are all generals who command the army, their treatment will vary greatly if their rank is only at the captain level.

Even the rank of captain, which has a higher status among captains, will not change this situation.

But for some reason, the Lord of Philos wrote a personal letter to someone of captain rank.

So, how should we deal with this? Closing the letter, Old Jed narrowed his eyes, pondering the words.

"Adjutant, please call the secretary. Write a letter right away. No... write two. That guy should be done soon."

When Neymar heard this, he sighed loudly as if he was annoyed.

It seemed that she no longer had any intention of being polite to old Jed. Her hair was in a tangle and jumped around as if she was feeling unintentionally anxious.

"...I am not your maid, Captain Jerrard."

Neymar narrowed his eyes and made a sound slowly.

Although the words themselves were polite, there seemed to be endless anger contained in the words.

"But you're the adjutant, Neymar. A lieutenant should listen to his superior, right? What's going on? Are you trying to make things difficult for me?"

Old Jed looked at Neymar and said as if he found it interesting.

In my ears, contrary to the sound of Neymar's footsteps just now, there was a noisy sound of footsteps.

It seemed that the second message he had been waiting for had finally arrived. Old Jed narrowed his eyes in pleasure.

Chapter 21 Commander and Adjutant

"——So, didn't I tell you that?"

The order was delivered to Old Jed's tent as quickly as possible, causing Adjutant Neymar to cry out, his sharp canine teeth showing from the corners of his mouth, as if he no longer wanted to hide all his emotions, and the sound he vented was very rough.

The soldier who brought the message was terrified and stood there motionless, thinking he was being blamed.

—The volunteers of the Grand Cathedral Army were plundering the surrounding villages in the name of justice.

In short, this was the content of the report brought by the messenger. It was what Neymar was most worried about, and it was even something he had foreseen long ago. Neymar smacked his lips viciously.

It is obvious that the so-called volunteers have no lofty will or religious sense of mission. They are just a group of people who take up arms to vent the anger of daily oppression and to escape the painful daily life.

Although they called themselves volunteers, they were just like wild beasts in the final analysis. If they were hungry, they would wave their spears to threaten and plunder the people. It was obvious that they had known this for a long time, but despite this, the general named Gerard did.

Anger and contempt could be seen in Neymar's eyes. Old Jed accepted her gaze and said a few words to the messenger before asking him to leave.

Then he looked Neymar straight in the face and spoke, his hoarse voice, characteristic of an old man, echoing strangely in the tent.

"Adjutant Neymar, I've already asked the captain to prepare. Just leave the minimum number of soldiers here, and take everyone else with you."

Time to practice, Old Jed said as he reached out to the pottery and dipped his tongue in the wine.

Neymar's lips were about to spit fire again, but suddenly, his eyebrows twitched.

Are you ready? What's going on?

The commander's inexplicable words instantly weakened Neymar's momentum. Old Jed seemed not to see it and continued slowly.

"Don't expect to defeat them with just one army. All teams must be fully staffed. We just need to show the new recruits what the battlefield is like. You don't have much practical experience, do you? Get used to it."

The moment he heard that sentence, the bell rang outside the tent, announcing that preparations for battle were complete. Neymar felt as if a cold hand was crawling across his back.

It was strange, apparently, too fast.

Although the position has been established, everyone except the defense forces should be resting now.

It is not surprising that it would take time for several centurions to be prepared, because the news that the volunteers were looting had just arrived.

But... why was the team ready so quickly? Neymar had a bad feeling in his heart.

She opened her eyes wide and forced herself to open her throat to speak.

"Captain Gerard, you... knew the volunteers would plunder, so you had the soldiers prepare in advance, right?"

Neymar didn't know what to ask. He just uttered those words.

Old Jed answered the question calmly as he placed the crockery on the table.

"Of course, what else is there besides that? Well, it was really good training."

The commander's words made Neymar's mind go white with paralysis, and her eyelids trembled as if in spasm.

This commander, in other words, fully understood that the militia would attack the village, condoned such behavior, and then used it to train the new recruits.

Is there such a ridiculous thing?

Neymar's thoughts were still wavering, and she couldn't put her words together. Still, she felt an obligation to say something, so she spoke up.

“…will lose the public’s trust.”

Neymar said in a trembling voice, in stark contrast to his usual tough tone, and the old Jed answered the question without hesitation.

"Don't worry. We've already notified the surrounding villages several times that a group of Heraldry troops claiming to be volunteers have appeared. Furthermore, the Volunteers' attire is nothing like ours, so they won't mistake us for the same group."

The veteran's tone was relaxed, as if he was just doing what was supposed to be done naturally, and even seemed to be asking Neymar: Is there anything strange?

Old Jed added in a hoarse voice, "Even if we bring them to the battlefield, they will only be in the way."

Neymar bit his lip so hard that his canine teeth dug into the flesh and blood oozed out.

Of course she knew about such things. Bringing volunteers who only knew how to act recklessly into the battlefield would not produce any results. Instead, they would cowardly flee everywhere and even affect their own morale.

Neymar agrees that they have to part ways somewhere.

However, there are clearly better ways...but they choose to use this method that hurts people.

At the moment when Neymar was about to utter some hot words, Old Jade continued as if he wanted to punch her nose flat.

"Listen, Neymar, this is a profitable approach. If you want to conduct a campaign, it's best to establish good relations with the surrounding villages. Ah, of course there will be exceptions."

When Neymar heard what old Jade said, she opened her eyes wide and raised her head. She herself didn't know what expression was on her face.

"Ignoring the volunteers from the outset will only create unnecessary resentment. What's more important is how to handle them properly. This way, we can gain the goodwill of the village, train the new recruits, and handle the volunteers, achieving three goals at once."

The veteran poured the wine down his throat while continuing, "I think this is a good idea. Compared to losing the battle due to not being able to train, the loss will be much less."

Neymar wanted to make some sound, and he wanted to vent the fear and throbbing emotions in his heart to the commander in front of him.

But she couldn't find the words to say, only worthless tears welled up in her pupils.

Neymar didn't like what Jade Sr. said at all and she wanted to flick that hand away, to argue back, however, she didn't have the knowledge or experience to do so.

Therefore, he could only say one word to Old Jed tremblingly.

"Captain Gerard."

"What's wrong?" Old Jed answered roughly, as if he had said everything he needed to say, without even turning his eyes to Neymar.

It doesn't matter, Neymar tried his best to make noise.

"I despise you. But... I follow orders."

Apart from that, Neymar had nothing to say.

I can't believe Gerrard from the bottom of my heart, so I despise him.

However, I don't have the power to correct it, so I obey.

It's so outrageous, so powerless that I can't even express in words what I think is right.

Neymar felt an urge to strangle himself, and left the tent with his back to the commander. There was glowing liquid in his eyes, and his expression contained several emotions.

Old Jed looked at her back, narrowed his eyes slightly, and after a while, he sighed slightly.

At this moment, Old Jed no longer had any thoughts about the group of hopeless volunteers in his mind. He was only thinking about the letter that had to be sent out later.

Letters to the autonomous city of Filos and to former disciples in the Armorial Church.

Chapter 22 His Evil Habit (5000)

No matter how successful a military envoy's work was during wartime, his achievements would not be recognized, nor would they become the subject of stories told by poets.

Despite this, the danger of this job is far higher than that of normal soldiers entering and leaving the battlefield. If you say the wrong thing by accident, your life may be in danger. It is a very unprofitable job.

Because the job of a military envoy not only requires delivering information to friendly forces, but also requires breaking into the enemy's position alone with bare hands and accurately conveying one's own intentions.

If you are not careful, you may be beheaded immediately. There are even cases where you simply send a letter, but the other party regards it as a demonstration and angers the other party, which eventually leads to your death.

In that case, it would be better to wield your weapon openly on the battlefield, at least your allies are by your side.

It's the same to die on the battlefield, but if you sacrifice your life for your country or fight for your friends, then you can die willingly.

But wouldn't it be stupid to die just for delivering a letter?

On this day, the envoy from the Cathedral Army who came to the Armorial Army with a letter kept muttering these words.

It's really not worth it. Although I can get some extra compensation, I won't be able to enjoy it if I die.

If you still have family, you can be more open-minded about leaving your money to them after your death. However, those who choose to do high-risk jobs like military envoys are always lonely people like you, without family or lovers.

It's really not worth it, I can't stand it, and this time I was unlucky enough to draw a death sign.

The military envoy's thoughts began to boil over in his heart the moment he stepped into the Heraldry Church's camp.

Because in the Heraldry camp, he saw a group of beings with long ears and faces different from humans - elves wandering around.

Although the military envoy heard that the elves had formed an alliance with the Church of Heraldry, he did not expect that the elves would move around so freely.

The soldier's toes couldn't help but feel cold when he thought of the rumors he had heard before, that the elves loved to eat humans, liked human hearts, and would even curse humans, making them unable to move forever.

But what is even more terrifying than that is where I have to send the letter.

In an instant, the military envoy felt his heart become heavier.

That's where Murphy, the traitor and the one who loves doing evil, is.

According to rumors, he is ranked alongside the Witch Madia, the leader of the Cult of Heraldry. As a symbol of evil, he possesses a massive body capable of single-handedly slaying large monsters, and there is always a glint of green flame in the corners of his eyes.

Now, I can already see the future where he will be enraged by the contents of the letter and will swing the blade at himself.

The man who was sent as a military envoy prayed to the God of the Cathedral in his heart, hoping that the wrath would not be directed towards him.

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— I hope we can have a conversation; it would be beneficial to both sides. Captain of the Grand Templar Army: Gerard Kaliba.

The signature scribbled at the end of the letter made Murphy doubt his own eyes. He narrowed his eyes with a sharp look and stared at the ink mark over and over again.

Is it a spelling mistake, or someone with the same name, or simply separated brothers?

All sorts of silly fantasies ran through Murphy's mind as he stared at the signature as if chewing on every word.

However, no matter how he deceived himself, he still felt that this messy signature method was familiar - the way those words were written was simply saying: As long as you know what I am writing, it will be fine.

And among the people he knew who liked to write in this way, there was only one named Gerard.

But he had hated his last name for a long time, and had hated it to the very end in the past, so why would it change now?

"Mr. Gerald, it's a nostalgic name to see."

In the big tent, Murphy was talking to herself, not to anyone else.

Because none of the generals spoke, but simply looked at Murphy who received the letter, his voice sounded particularly clear in the quiet tent.