The March spring breeze lted the snow, and the water level of the Nao'an River broke free from the ice and withered grass just like the green willows on both banks.
The flute-shaped boat was navigating the river channel of the Nao'an River, the hull undulating with the waves, and the chamber pot inside the cabin began to sway in the verdant waves, exuding a myriad of colors.
"Ugh——"
Thierry gagged but forcefully swallowed the vomit back down his throat.
Grabbing the wine pouch for a swig of beer, he looked up at the dim, light-leaking cabin, feeling indignant inside.
In the entire cabin, pairs of dull eyes blinked with only the weak sounds of dice rolling and card gas.
This cabin was packed with various supplies and personnel, all sticky with the sll of feet and feces.
To these noble youths from Falan, it was nothing short of the Fire Prison.
With the next counterattack being organized, a large quantity of materials and troops needed to be transported to the front line, leading to a strain on transport capacity.
Although Horn agreed to their request, a dedicated ship for them couldn't be spared.
Despite being a prestigious Falan mission, despite Thierry being a close associate of Pri Minister Lorenzo, he still had to stay in a cabin, mingling with these lower-class people.
This was because the Thousand River Valley People saw the strength of the Falan people, intentionally paying lip service to their requests.
But Thierry wouldn't give up; he insisted on seeing the front line and what the Malenpo victory was all about!
Leaning against the damp cabin wall, Thierry sat in a daze, feeling weak.
The other mbers of the observation team naturally were too weak to move, with only a few middle-aged nobles managing to speak a few words with the Defensive Army.
Ti seed to lose its aning, and it wasn't clear how long had passed. Just as Thierry was about to fall asleep, the cabin suddenly beca agitated.
Thierry awoke from his sleep as Abazi shook him, squinting from the glare of the sunlight.
The cabin door opened, a ladder dropped down, and a sailor poked his head out: "Go, go, go, we've reached the place. Quickly now, there are more supplies to unload."
With the crowded flow of people, the mbers of the Falan Military Observation Team climbed onto the deck one by one.
The spring breeze, still carrying the chill, blew across their faces, waking Thierry up considerably.
"Form a line, form a line!"
"Go one by one, don't rush."
"Move forward, don't stand still on the deck—hey, I'm talking to you!"
Having their sleeves pulled roughly by the Military Police, Thierry and the others hardly had ti to enjoy the fresh breeze before being squeezed into the sweaty ranks of the Defensive Army.
Walking off the pier and out of the fishing village, the confused military observation team followed the replenishnt troops of the Defensive Army towards the camp.
Having recovered from his dizziness and invigorated by the fresh air, Thierry imdiately engaged in his professional work.
Taking out a small notebook with a leather cover, he first offered a gift of beer to the Defensive Army before asking,
"Why did you decide to enlist? This is a dangerous front line."
"Money, a new recruit gets 60 dinars, the old soldiers get double, sergeants get double again, officers get even more, and Battle Commanders can double again."
"Plus, there's an allowance for dals!"
"Exactly, how much money is that... doubling and doubling again..."
Venice quickly calculated the answer: "Less than 100 gold pounds a year, average family inco, and that's for a Battle Commander?"
You should know, the Battle Group is the largest organization of the Holy Alliance.
Above a Battle Commander, there is only Horn as the Commander-in-chief, and yet such a rank equivalent to that of a general only earns 100 gold pounds a year?
Typically, the minimum requirent for a general of Falan is a Count or High-tier Knight, who already has obligations to serve in military positions with feudal inco.
The minimum inco of a Count is no less than 300 gold pounds.
Even if it's a landless aristocrat, regardless of their forr inco, the annual grant from the King would supplent it to exceed 300 gold pounds.
If these generals perform well, perhaps they could be recruited...
"But, it's different," one of the Defensive Army quickly rebutted, "I'm a commoner, and I can also beco a Battle Commander. If it was elsewhere, I would be lucky to beco a squad leader in my lifeti."
"Even His Majesty said that soldiers who don't aspire to beco Battle Commanders are not good soldiers!"
Abazi and others exchanged glances, realizing that the Saint's Grandson had a deep strategy.
Dangling such a carrot before these untraveled commoners naturally made them race madly forward.
Thierry, however, had a stern look on his face as he quickly calculated in his mind.
Based on current information, a Battle Group's monthly salary expenditure is between 3400 gold pounds to 4200 gold pounds.
As for logistical expenses, from observations and collected intelligence along the journey, the logistics of each Legion cost between 1000 and 1200 gold pounds per month.
Damn, they are even providing ordinary soldiers with at, mules, and surgeons.
Even if a Battle Group spends 5000 gold pounds a month, expanding it to six units would cost at least 30,000 gold pounds.
Further expansion by two more battle groups will increase the military budget to 40,000 gold pounds per month.
Even with Falan's support, the Thousand River Valley finances can only sustain for about six months.
If it were Leia's nobility or Falan's land aristocrats, they might not notice.
But Thierry, as a newly minted aristocrat, is particularly sensitive to cash flow.
He imdiately saw the problem—the army's expenditures are too high, too much cash is entering the soldiers' hands.
But the soldiers on the front line evidently have no ti for investnt or consumption, to keep it circulating, this money must be taken from the soldiers.
But this would cause the soldiers to lose trust in the army, while not taking it would stall the circulation of gold pounds.
How are the Holy Alliance people solving this problem?
"Not only that, there's more," the Defensive Army mbers said with grins, "If you can't beco an officer, at least in the military you learn literacy for free."
"Yes, when reaching retirent, the Battle Group's base will invite people to teach you skills, such as carpentry, hairdressing, tailoring, and cooking."
"If slightly injured and literate, you'll be employed by schools and the Priestly Order, and heavily injured can join the Veterans' Ho, supported by the Saint's Grandson for life."
"Once the three or five years of service are completed, there will be a lump sum retirent fund. With literacy and a skill, plus start-up funds, what work couldn't make money?"
Thierry suddenly rembered passing by towns around Rapids City, where there were veteran restaurants, veteran barber shops, veteran tailor shops everywhere.
At that ti, he wondered what this ant—could it be industry belonging to military families? It turns out that's where it ca from?
This ans the military is not only training soldiers but also nurturing citizens, artisans, and intellectuals.
These are precious comrcial and industrial populations.
No wonder farrs are so eager to enlist; they are aiming for city residency.
The army, besides making money, is also a ladder of class ascension.
"If only we can beco officers, that's even better." Thierry and others posed the question that instead revived the low morale of the Defensive Army.
Amidst the pine forest, the mixed cold and warm spring breeze blew intermittently, and the long queue of a hundred advanced with both feet sinking now and then.
Even wearing tattered clothes, stepping on mucus mixed with dung, when discussing future prospects, everyone's eyes glimred brightly.
"Mid-level and senior officers, besides continuing to develop in the military, can also go to university for further study and take positions in the Holy Alliance governnt afterward."
"Aren't there various monasteries recently, which are actually state-owned chambers of comrce where officers can transfer into?"
"Officers also have inco from spoils of war. After retiring, investing in mines, plantations, and textile workshops can earn profits!"
"Can you Falan people do the sa?" Seeing Venice about to speak, the Defensive Army imdiately added, "I an commoners."
Venice was at a loss for words, he hesitated for a long ti before finally saying: "Excellent commoners may marry into the minor nobility..."
The surrounding Defensive Army snickered, refraining from responding to Venice.
Instead, Abazi sensed sothing amiss, and with a sincere smile, he asked, "Where did you hear about all these things?"
"The Hundred Households Captain read the public notice."
"Our Captain of the Church Protection Army told us."
"Every day at the dock, there are literate people reading the headlines from the 'Truth Newspaper' aloud..."
"Even without the Hundred Households Captain saying, my cousin's brother is a veteran, I've seen it with my own eyes."
With the conversation continuing, when Thierry closed the small notebook, the camp erged in sight.
Trenches, walls, chevaux-de-frise, breastworks, all equipped, must admit the Salvation Army's engineering capability is quite impressive.
However, as Thierry's gaze shifted, he couldn't help but be startled.
Pointing to the flat land outside the camp, he turned to the leading Military Police and asked, "Excuse , is that a fight over there?"
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