I, the prince in distress, send money

Chapter 403 Going Home
The gates of Tavitsky City became clearer in the field of vision, with colorful flags waving on the city walls and crowds of people.

Lawrence Darnell, with his slightly weary soldiers, stood in the vanguard of the Dirac Legion, and could clearly feel the barely suppressed excitement and a sense of relief among his comrades.

"Go home!"

Some people cheered softly.

"I'm going to have a really big drinking session when I get back, and get drunk for a whole day and night..."

A heavy sigh came from the side, the words revealing an undisguised craving for alcohol.

Lawrence didn't speak, but straightened his back and subconsciously licked his lips... Speaking of alcohol, he also felt a little thirsty.

The Blue Flag Army was good, but its military regulations were a bit strict. The warlord kept emphasizing that soldiers and officers were not allowed to drink alcohol during combat. If they did, they would be beaten with military sticks, and if they were hungover, they would be shot on the spot.

Lawrence, who had lofty aspirations, always restrained himself and his soldiers from alcohol. Even when alcohol was seized during a sweep, they would simply break the jars and pour it out.

However, soldiers cannot drink alcohol during combat, but they can drink honey water. According to military regulations, the Lawrence Hundreds were entitled to at least 120 bottles of honey water every day, one liter per bottle.

The honey water was sweet and tasted better than beer, so even though alcohol was banned in the army, the soldiers could still tolerate it.

As he approached home, Lawrence subconsciously looked down at himself. His military uniform was covered in dust, and the fresh scar on his cheek from the battle outside Suvano was still throbbing slightly.

The team he led, which started with a full complement of 120 men, now only... well, 118 are standing here.

Two people are missing. They were two unlucky guys. One of them was hit by a falling log while the hundred-man team was cutting wood and died on the spot.

The other was that during the siege, he was hit in the neck by a lead bullet... that was from a distance of 1,500 meters.

This incredibly unlucky guy didn't die on the spot. His own medics were very helpful, doing a great job in first aid and stopping the bleeding, and the doctors at the field hospital were also very skilled. However, he was still too unlucky and died from a bacterial infection after the surgery.

Thinking of this, Lawrence subconsciously touched his breast pocket, where he found two hard identification tags. He was going to hand them over to the quartermaster to register the two men on the list of the dead.

In this way, their families can receive compensation, but they will not receive land from the soldiers.

Soldiers of the Defense Force only receive farmland when they die in battle, while soldiers of the Blue Banner Army do not.

As the vanguard advanced and approached Tavitsky, the massive city gates slowly opened, and a deafening roar of cheers swept over him like a tsunami. Lawrence felt all his weariness, pain, and heaviness temporarily washed away by this enthusiastic wave.

The roadside was crowded with residents of Tavitsky, waving hastily made colorful flags, most of which were just torn strips of cloth dyed, and scattered not flower petals but dried wildflowers and confetti.

Children screamed and ran alongside the procession, women smiled through their tears, and men clapped loudly, shouting the names of familiar officers or unit numbers. The air was filled with the aroma of roasting meat, the scent of fresh bread, and… the rich, malty aroma of beer!

All of this still moved Lawrence and the other Blue Banner soldiers, and even made them feel a little ashamed... This expedition was so easy, the most tiring part was the march, and there were actually few casualties in the battle.

With mixed emotions, Lawrence walked into the city. His gaze swept across the roadside, where rows of makeshift tables were piled high with whole pigs and sheep roasted to a golden brown, sizzling sound.

Huge wooden barrels were open, filled with ale frothy white foam. Women in white aprons used large iron ladles to scoop the ale into bowls and even helmets handed to them by the soldiers.

There were mountains of white bread, and even rare pastries decorated with icing... This was clearly food that His Highness the Regent had specially purchased at a "huge" cost to reward the expeditionary force.

Lawrence couldn't help but slow his pace, reaching for the big elbow with his left hand and grabbing a piece of jujube cake with his right, then began to stuff himself with food.

Led by the centurion, the 118 Blue Banner soldiers behind him followed suit, filling their empty stomachs together... They had only eaten one meal from morning to afternoon before embarking on a forced march, so it would be strange if they weren't hungry.

"Centurion Darnell, over here... have a drink!"

A familiar local militia captain squeezed to the side of the road and, without saying a word, shoved a wooden cup filled to the brim into his hand.

Lawrence didn't stand on ceremony and immediately raised his glass. As the cold ale went down his throat, the rough malty sweetness and the stimulating sensation of the bubbles quickly chased away the thirst from his long journey.

"Great, another one!"

Surrounded by citizens, the procession moved slowly and solemnly toward the city center square, which had been transformed into a grand open-air banquet venue.

Marquis Dirac, riding a white horse, and his officers had already arrived and were standing on the makeshift platform.

The cheers of the crowd reached their peak when the main force of the expeditionary force entered the square.

Lawrence and his 100-man team were seated near the podium, with a long table in front of them laden with a sumptuous meal.

Large chunks of roasted meat, tender stewed beans, fragrant broth, and baskets of bread and fruit.

The sight left the Blue Banner soldiers, who had just finished their meal, speechless. Everyone knew that a troop-warming ceremony would be held upon arrival in Tavitsky, but none of them had expected the food to be so plentiful and delicious.

The ceremony to reward the troops officially began, and the Marquis of Dirac delivered a brief speech, affirming the bravery and loyalty of the expeditionary soldiers and emphasizing that they had successfully completed their mission of accompanying the attack, thus buying valuable time and space for the main force of the kingdom to achieve its strategic objectives.

His words were met with enthusiastic applause and cheers from the soldiers.

Next came the most important part...recognition and promotion.

A military judge in a brown military affairs uniform, holding a long parchment scroll, began to loudly read out the list of those being honored and the promotion orders.

Each time a name was called out, it would elicit cheers from the soldiers.

Lawrence looked around and suddenly realized that the defense force didn't seem to be here... Had they gone back to their camp?

"Lawrence Darnell, former centurion!!!"

The military judge's loud voice clearly reached Lawrence's ears, interrupting his thoughts and causing him to jump up abruptly.

"During the siege of Suvana, he distinguished himself in logging, personally killing three enemy soldiers. The hundred-man unit performed its combat and civil engineering tasks admirably, achieving outstanding merit in this battle. After review by the corps command and approval by His Highness Chris..."

The military judge paused, then raised his voice even higher.

"Promoted to centurion and awarded the Guardian of Tavitsky, Third Class, in recognition of his merits!"

The enormous roar instantly engulfed Lawrence. Hearing clearly and understanding what the military judge meant, he felt his heart pounding. His comrades around him patted his shoulders and back forcefully, and the cheers almost knocked him over.

"Commander Darnell, please step forward to receive your medal!"

The military judge's voice rang out again.

Lawrence took a deep breath, trying to calm his excited emotions. He tidied his dusty appearance and walked onto the stage with the most steady steps he could muster, under the watchful eyes of the crowd.

Marquis Dirac personally pinned a heavy medal on his head, made of fine steel with a small piece of brass inlaid in the center... the Tavitsky Guardian Medal.

When the cool touch pressed against his chest, Lawrence felt a heavy weight on his chest... It was the weight of honor, and the supplies he could receive for free from the supply and marketing cooperative every month.

Then, an aide-de-camp stepped forward carrying a tray covered with dark blue velvet, on which lay a brand-new, well-tailored light blue officer's uniform.

This color was the insignia of officers of the rank of centurion and above in the Baghnia army, symbolizing higher status and responsibility. The fabric was of superior quality, far superior to the coarse linen worn by ordinary soldiers.

Secondly, on the tray was a command sword in a black leather scabbard.

The handle is wrapped in non-slip leather, and the counterweight ball is engraved with the griffin emblem of the Bagnian royal family.

This command sword is not only a weapon, but also a symbol of status.

"Commander Darnell, this is your new rank insignia and sword."

Marquis Dirac's voice carried an air of authority.

"I hope you will continue to perform your duties diligently and serve the kingdom!"

"I swear to serve the kingdom to the death, and to His Highness Chris!!!"

Lawrence straightened his chest, clenched his right fist and slammed it heavily on his left chest over his heart, giving a standard military salute. His voice was loud and firm, echoing clearly in the noisy square.

As Lawrence stepped off the podium, he felt his steps were a little unsteady.

He returned to his unit, carrying the light blue uniform that symbolized his status as a centurion and the heavy command sword, where he was greeted with even more enthusiastic cheers and congratulations.

Surrounded by his subordinates, Lawrence finally showed a long-lost, genuine smile.

He picked up the light blue uniform, his fingers tracing the smooth, delicate fabric. The color, the texture, the rank insignia, and the sword symbolizing command... all of this clearly told him that he was now the kingdom's official centurion, a mid-level commander leading thousands of troops.

Am I a nobleman again?!

Lawrence was unaware that, having drunk a lot of alcohol, he felt somewhat tipsy and unclear-headed, yet exceptionally happy.

Serving as Prince Chris's soldier isn't so bad, is it?
Even when serving in the Blue Banner Army, managing a thousand soldiers, and possessing a vast expanse of fertile land capable of supporting a thousand families, even the Baron of the Kingdom of Minicia would not possess such strength.

(End of this chapter)