Chapter 1481: Chapter 39: Siege (9)
[Southern Army Command]
On the second day after the battle on Magit Island began, the main forces of the “Rebels” arrived near the outskirts of Kingsfort.
Jansen Cornelius at the command center immediately received reports:
In the “Rebels”‘ ranks, scouts had seen flags with the Winged Lion emblem.
—————–
[The camp beneath Kingsfort]
“Is this Kingsfort?” Claude was utterly disappointed.
“No,” Houdel apathetically wiped his hands on his pants, spat into his palms, and picked up the pickaxe beside him, swinging it forcefully down, “It’s a latrine.”
“Can’t you be serious for once?”
“And what’s wrong with me? Didn’t you just ask something stupid?” Houdel retorted irritably, “It’s either Kingsfort or a latrine, isn’t it?”
“It’s not as big as they told me,” Claude sighed, picking up a shovel to move the loosened dirt to the sides, “Listening to those aristocrats brag, I thought it was a spectacular place!”
“Stop dawdling, dig faster,” Houdel gritted his teeth, swinging the pickaxe, “I want to be the first to relieve myself once it’s done.”
…
Houdel’s military school life unfolded in a way completely different from what he expected.
At first, upon hearing the principal of the “Second Academy” was a blind man named “John Jeska,” Houdel thought the person delivering the message was joking.
He had no idea where this person came from.
Reserve officers from other counties might not care, and could even welcome a principal with a background in the old army.
But to Houdel, Claude Lee, and other grassroots members of Iron Peak County’s “Righteous Army,” their principal could only be the “Blood Wolf.”
Until new information emerged, saying this “Brigadier Jeska” was no outsider but His Excellency Montaigne’s former superior, which quieted down the doubts among Iron Peak County’s reserve officers about the choice of principal.
Later, Houdel learned, although the Blood Wolf wasn’t the principal, he was appointed as a vice principal, and the Mason Commissioner also took on the role of general affairs manager for the Second Academy, which put his mind at ease.
“A blind man, what can he teach? What can he handle?” Houdel confidently stipulated, “The real head of the military school must be the Blood Wolf. At worst, there’s still Mason Commissioner to rely on.”
Thinking of this, Houdel would secretly laugh in his sleep.
This can’t blame him, as most reserve officers from Iron Peak County’s Righteous Army crave “entering military school” not due to rational thought, but more from an impulsive admiration and yearning for the “Blood of the Wolf.”
Things like career prospects—they certainly considered—but didn’t hold particularly dear.
This, they themselves probably haven’t realized.
So when Houdel discovered the Blood Wolf was merely a titular head, showing his face only on the opening ceremony day but was nowhere to be found afterward;
When he discovered Mason Commissioner was too busy with troop supplementation to pay attention to the military school;
He couldn’t help but cry foul.
The promised “Republic’s future,” why is it so “neglected and unloved”?
Yet what Houdel couldn’t accept was yet to come.
The New Republic’s army was in dire need of personnel everywhere, unable to fully staff teaching positions.
Even frontline command posts had huge personnel gaps, how could they dispatch precious officers to the Army Academy?
So the Second Army Academy had no choice but to hire many external personnel to teach ordinary subjects like grammar, arithmetic, and geometry—Kai Morland put in considerable effort for this.
While for military subjects, where external hires were impossible, the Second Academy had to rely on wounded officers unable to continue frontline duties.
Witnessing “uniformed colleagues” struggling with crutches, wheeling in chairs, barely moving on the podium, a hired teacher nearly driven mad by stupid students couldn’t help but lament:
“So the army’s school is ‘cripples teaching idiots’?”
His words reached another passing hired teacher, thus “cripples teaching idiots” quickly became Maplestone City’s trendiest joke.
Honestly speaking, though the phrase “cripples teaching idiots” was harsh, it accurately depicted the current plight of the New Republic’s army:
Originally, county reserve forces could barely sustain post-expansion structure by heavily employing delegated officers;
Once moving toward formalization, squeezing out the excess from officer ranks, command personnel—especially junior and mid-level commanders—became extremely scarce;
New Army officers were scarce to such an extent—only those who’ve lost legs, unable to ride horses, can return to rear teaching; other disabled commanders, even missing arms, eyes, must continue holding the frontline.
Therefore, the Army Committee indeed couldn’t allocate personnel to the Second Academy.
But military subjects aren’t things just anyone can teach or has the qualifications to teach.
Thus, someone naturally turned their gaze to prisoner camps.
To certain someone, it’s hardly something to hesitate over, making the best use of resources is their very nature.
Yet when Houdel saw Principal John Jeska, led by a baby-faced aide, walk into a classroom, bringing an embarrassed, thin officer with ink-stained hands to the podium, announcing “From today onward, terrain studies will be taught by Major Alder Felter,”
He was first shocked, then bewildered, and finally unable to accept, not hearing a word of what the principal or new terrain studies instructor lectured.