"Is this who you've brought in?" Roland looked at the ragged group of commoners before him, an urge to turn around and leave rising within him.

"Your Highness, they were selected according to your requirements," Carter said, counting on his fingers, "Male, non-criminal, over ten years old, under forty, no physical disabilities... I checked them very carefully."

Well, he knew he shouldn't have had too many expectations. After all, the productivity of this world was so low that it was difficult to even eat one's fill, so it was even more normal to be poorly dressed. His princely status had made him overlook this point. As soon as he stepped out of the castle, he could see vagrants everywhere, barely clothed and begging for a living. In fact, even Greycastle, the capital of the kingdom, had corpse collectors – their job was to drag away and cremate those who had died of starvation on the streets every day.

So, what was the combat mode of this world? Roland closed his eyes and carefully recalled it, um... it was probably a bit more advanced than a street brawl. Generally speaking, when a lord decided to launch a war (or a brawl – Roland didn't think this kind of fighting could be related to the word war at all), he would summon the enfeoffed nobles in his jurisdiction, and the enfeoffed nobles would then summon the lower-level enfeoffed nobles in their respective territories, such as a duke summoning his earls, and earls summoning viscounts and barons, and so on.

Most of these nobles possessed a group of knights and mercenaries as their personal strength. They were the main force in combat, generally well-equipped with armor and weapons. At the same time, they would also conscript commoners and farmers from their territories to cooperate in combat – in reality, they were just transporting food and fodder for the army, and rushing to the front line when cannon fodder was needed to fill the gaps. The most tragic casualties in battle were these cannon fodder. As for the battles between nobles, as long as they didn't die on the battlefield, they would generally be captured and treated well in exchange for ransom.

Roland naturally wouldn't expect the nobles of Border Town to help him fight. In fact, they had nothing to do with Border Town. Most of them were barons enfeoffed by the lord of Longsong Stronghold, and their territories were also within the jurisdiction of the stronghold.

An army entirely composed of commoners was an extremely imaginative thing in this era. They were foolish and ignorant, couldn't read or understand orders, and hadn't undergone professional combat training. How could they compare to knights who had been practicing swordsmanship since the age of ten?

Carter approached Roland and whispered, "Your Highness, this matter is inherently impossible. Look at them, who can hold a sword? They'll probably scatter in all directions when they encounter evil beasts, which will affect the stability of the defense line. I suggest hiring professional mercenaries from Willow Town or other places to guard the city walls. These people can be kept to do odd jobs."

"No, I'll use them," Roland refused. He had no good feelings for the mercenaries who worked for money. Besides, his purpose in forming an army was not only to deal with evil beasts – throughout history, a strong and vibrant team must have members from the people, whether it was a feudal army, a modern army, or a contemporary army, this rule had been verified countless times.

"Alright, it's your call," the knight shrugged. "Then I'll start training them how to hold a sword tomorrow? Although it may not be of much use..."

"Use a sword? No, first you take them to form ranks and run –" Roland suddenly realized that the chief knight himself might not have experienced these training contents, so he had to change his words, "You call the hunter you found last time, and you guys watch me do it together first."

*******************

The unbelievable things Vanna experienced today were probably more than in the previous twenty years combined.

He actually saw the Fourth Prince of the kingdom – Roland Wimbledon, at close range. He walked past him and even smiled at him. Good heavens, was the prince drunk?

Three days ago, when the Fourth Prince gave a speech in the square, he knew that this winter would be different from the past. They would not go to Longsong Stronghold, but would spend the long winter here. He didn't understand most of the principles the prince said, but he wholeheartedly agreed with this decision. Vanna's younger brother had died in the slums of the stronghold two years ago. There was no food supply for a whole month. He relied on the few copper coins he earned from unloading goods at the dock to buy some black bread and share it with his brother. But that winter was too cold, and the shack in the slum leaked wind everywhere. This little bit of food couldn't even maintain body temperature. After his brother fell ill and went into a coma, he never woke up again.

In Border Town, he at least had a house made of earth bricks, without having to fear the heavy snow that lasted for days. He also saw the dock piled high with wheat transported from other places, which was being moved into the castle in batches. Therefore, when Vanna heard the Fourth Prince's announcement to recruit militiamen, he came over as soon as possible.

Of course, the temptation that made him give up his stone-breaking work and rush to apply was the salary of 10 silver wolves per month. This was comparable to that of a skilled mud craftsman! He was not young anymore. He planned to marry Sheryl, the tavern waitress, next spring. How could he not save more money now?

As for what the militiaman was supposed to do according to the notice, he didn't pay any attention to it at all. Anyway, it was either carrying things for those noble masters, or helping the patrol soldiers, surely they wouldn't let them climb the city walls to fight the crazy evil beasts.

The selection process was quite strict, and the knight in shining armor made Vanna a little scared. Fortunately, his sturdy body passed the review, and many skinny guys were pulled out of the team by the knight. In the end, only about a hundred people remained among those who came to apply.

But Vanna never expected that the one training them would actually be Prince Roland himself!

Those who passed were taken to the meadow on the west side of Border Town. Behind them was the city wall under construction, and in front of them was the endless Misty Forest.

The prince ordered everyone to stand in line, and then went to rest aside. It had just rained a few days ago, and the ground was still wet mud, with water seeping into the soles of his feet along the seams of his shoes, making him feel uncomfortable all over. Not to mention that the prince's required standing posture was not ordinary. His hands had to be vertically attached to his thighs, and his back had to be straightened.

Vanna felt exhausted after standing for only a quarter of an hour. It was even harder than swinging a sledgehammer to break stones. But he gritted his teeth and tried his best to persevere. Because the prince had said before that anyone who moved would have one less egg for lunch. Good heavens, he hadn't tasted eggs in a long time. Obviously, the people around him thought the same way. Although they were swaying, most of them persevered.

It wasn't until the prince announced a rest that Vanna realized that he was covered in sweat, and the entire standing time was not long, at most two quarters of an hour. Those who didn't persevere to the end were all annoyed, as if they saw the round eggs were moving away from them.

But Vanna didn't quite understand, what was the use of practicing this? Could standing make them carry a few more bags of dry food?

If it wasn't for the respected Prince training them, he would have shouted already.

Unexpectedly, after a short rest, the second order announced by the prince was even stranger. He required everyone to continue standing in line, and this time, if no one moved, they would all get an extra egg for lunch. As long as one person gave up, everyone would lose the chance to get the new egg.

Vanna heard a sound of swallowing saliva.

Damn it, was this a trick popular among the kingdom's aristocracy? Using a carrot dangling pole to make everyone spin around, he was not a stupid donkey!

... But what if, what if everyone could do it, wouldn't they have two eggs to eat later?

It was simply a devil's temptation. Vanna wiped the saliva from the corner of his mouth. For the sake of eggs, he would go all out!

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