Led by the legendary alumnus of Mennonite Kuhoun, a textbook figure, the officers began to put aside their fears and actively engage in the discussion of 'how to use the military against an oversized individual'.

"You can always use the number of people to die!" An officer swore by this, "How much strength do we have?" Anyway, those scattered northerners don't even dare to think about it. ”

"We have not only regular troops, but also servant armies transferred from subordinate countries, and slave armies! No matter how powerful he is, fill in these worthless human lives, and he can always fill in the results! ”

The other young officer was much more sensible.

"The main question is: if he wants to run, how can we stop him? And what is the principle of his tracking of our command? Killing people is not terrible for us, not even killing a division. The scary thing is that he can find our command! ”

"When he finds us, what else can we do to retreat from under his hands?"

Menno Kuhoun was sure that the young man had wanted to use the word that was not the neutral word 'retreat'.

"Magic!" A staff officer pinched his chin and said loudly.

"Don't even think about it, it is impossible for such a powerful individual to have nothing to do with magic! His power comes from magic, and presumably the method of tracking down our command is also magic. Maybe we should have a lot of gold on hand. ”

A claim that at first glance sounded somewhat plausible, but was quickly refuted.

"Put away this stupid idea. Are you going to make us dispense with the help of magic in our wars? ”

"We're out of magic, but the Yankees still have. The Demon Blocking Gold can protect us from direct damage from magic, but as long as the warlocks of the north join forces to change the local weather, can this armor still be worn? Is there any need to fight without armor? ”

"If you want me to see, why don't we mobilize some more warlocks from the country and let them monitor the magic on the battlefield, so as to determine what is going on with that person, and if necessary, we can also carry out magic countermeasures!"

In this tent, the elite and top handful of people from the Imperial Military Academy gathered for several years.

Their wits collide under the new demands of warfare, exploding sparks of inspiration.

Magic, a power that transcends its time, is often limited to rough turrets on the battlefield. But today, these staff officers and commanders are beginning to look at this magical power from a new applied perspective.

"Excellent! That's the answer I wanted, boys! ”

Menno Kuhoun patted the shoulders of those around him vigorously, and his encouraging eyes looked around and looked at each officer.

"We have many outstanding people who have received elite education, and many brilliant minds born after training, study, drawing on experience, and familiarizing themselves with war cases. Your sense of smell on the battlefield will allow you to spot the flaws of your enemies, like a wolf! ”

"Your wonderful discussion today is enough to even hold a class in the Military Academy!"

The marshal pointed to the map on the table.

"And we still have plenty of troops, the Servant Army, the Slave Army, they will be the experimental equipment for you to test your ideas! Let's find that person, force him to the limits of his strength, drag him down, consume him! ”

"He's just a person, that means he only has one life! One chance! And we have countless opportunities! ”

In the end, the marshal couldn't help but clench his fists, and the corners of his mouth hooked the arc of victory.

"Let's hunt 'heroes', gentlemen!"

"Yes!"

The tent was resounded with a chorus of answers.

——

Near the border of Sintra, a stalwart army under a black background and a yellow sun sparkles in the winter sun.

A group of people escorted a convoy full of grain and grass, and walked noisily on the forest road.

"It's as obvious as the fisherman is making a nest, isn't it, Lincoln?"

In the distance, in the woods, Lan stood on the thick branches of a large tree, looking in the direction of the convoy.

At the same time, he said to the bottom of the tree without looking.

"Yes, sir. Under your sharp eyes, the actions of the Nilfgaard are superficial. ”

The half-grown former clerk flattered like a hymn under the tree.

This tone made Lan En, who was standing on the branch, shiver, but when he opened his mouth, he couldn't say anything.

He's still the character who doesn't fit in after being praised by others, but the problem is. Lincoln's flattery was not a joke between friends, nor was it a deliberate attempt to keep him from getting off the stage.

But it's true! Really speaking to him in the spirit of singing hymns to the gods!

Now, this boy, worship him as God!

In fact, not only him, but basically since the day of the crater fire, these more than sixty warriors who have been left behind by Haxel are facing him in this mental state.

When he returned to meet them that day, they fell down on one knee before him.

On the raised head, the complex emotions contained in those excited, excited, grateful eyes almost overwhelmed him.

They acted with the idea that even if they were to survive, they would have to go out with Haxoel's war record.

Needless to say, the excitement of putting life and death aside.

But Lan turned and left, and came back again in half a day, and told them: You were originally burdened with the blood debt of the entire refugee group, but I have already finished the account by myself.

From that moment on, everyone, including Lincoln, looked at him with a kind of . Singularity.

Later, he said that he would stay and fight guerrillas, and the sixty wounded fighters did not frown a single brow, and all followed.

And then, victory after victory!

Victory, the word seems to carry a demonic nature.

Soldiers on the battlefield, able to abandon everything for the sake of this word! Throughout the ages, as long as you can continue to win, then the image of the leader will be constantly raised and elevated in the eyes of the led soldiers!

And the record that Lan En led them to fight, these people probably don't even dare to think about it in their lives.

So now, the worship of victory, the worship of Lan's personal charm, and the worship of strength

Although they can even talk and laugh on weekdays, when Lan En casually looks at them, the look in their eyes that has almost turned into a frenzy seems to be there forever.

This state of affairs made Lan En uncomfortable, he had always been indifferent to the cult of personality.

"Can you speak properly, Lincoln?"

Lan En crouched down on the branch, looking down helplessly at the half-grown boy who was looking up at him.

"Is my tone bothering you? I'm sorry below."

"You don't need to apologize so solemnly, just be casual."

Finally, Lann pursed his lips, and Lincoln just smiled and didn't speak.

This is a silent refusal.

Refusing a request from a person you are fanatical about may not sound like 'fanatical'.

But for Lincoln, what made them fanatical was the qualities that Lenn himself exhibited.

Fanatical reverence for these qualities is a decision made deep in their own hearts and has nothing to do with anyone else. So Lan En's own opposition was like a breeze on their faces—

If you like to say it, you can say it, and we won't change it anyway.

With a 'snap', Lan En patted his forehead helplessly.

Take a deep breath so that you don't get by this group of subordinates who are sometimes obedient to the point of being too obedient and sometimes rebellious to the point of being too rebellious.

Opening his eyes again, the cat's eyes, which had changed slightly, were sharpened.

After the details, now, let's see how to 'get things done'.

Ask for a commuter pass! Ask for a subscription!

(End of chapter)