Warhammer Divine Throne

Lorne’s analysis is clearly very sensible. The most feared issue during a military campaign is when the front lines are fighting while logistics encounter problems. After hearing Lorne’s explanation, everyone in the tent nodded in agreement.

"Now the question is, do we need to train these peasants to grasp some basic combat skills, like the long spear thrust?" Duke Hagen continued, not quite understanding. In his view, since these peasants are not yet useful, why not take this opportunity to train them well?

The tent fell silent; Duke Hagen was somewhat puzzled. He continued to ask, "Why is no one speaking? I know these refugees are not all strong and robust, but can’t we select those who are strong and smart?"

Neither Lorne, Aldred, Fulcard, nor any other great noble uttered a word, especially the Quartermaster managing logistics, who opened his mouth, looked up at Duke Hagen, then lowered his head without daring to speak.

Duke Hagen, nearing eighty this year, was not only a duke but also a Holy Grail Knight at the legendary peak, with a wealth of experience. Few dared to challenge his words, especially as this duke was particularly unfamiliar with internal affairs, prompting a silence where no one dared speak or wished to speak.

Lord Kaled glanced left and right, seeing no one willing to speak up, felt genuinely disappointed as a Holy Sanctuary Holy Grail Knight.

When he fought alongside Laine and others, the southern knightly nobles were outspoken; both Laine and Francois were people of great strategic thinking and ideas.

After some thought, Lord Kaled spoke. Instead of directly answering Duke Hagen, he asked the Quartermaster: "What is the allocation for these refugee infantry corps in the camp now?"

"It’s all thin," the Quartermaster respectfully answered.

"Yes, it’s all thin," Lord Kaled couldn’t help himself. He continued, "If we’re merely trying to stabilize them, all thin rations might barely suffice. But if we want to train these refugees to grasp some basic combat abilities, shouldn’t we mix one substantial meal a day with the thin one at least?"

The tent again lapsed into silence.

What Lord Kaled referred to as substantial and thin was about the food rations, not any form of human excretion. Substantial meant black bread, while thin referred to a porridge mixed with small amounts of cereals and wild vegetables.

Currently, these 17,000 refugees are living day by day on porridge, making it a joke to train them to fight.

"But... I’ve seen Count Laine’s peasant infantry fight," Duke Hagen rebutted Lord Kaled defiantly: "Count Laine’s trained peasant infantry corps is quite combat-effective. Why can’t we train the same? These refugees have earned our compassion; they cannot survive without us, and we provide them with two meals a day! These people are still dissatisfied. I’ve seen unrest erupt in the camp. Is this how peasants repay our compassion? We’ve imported grain from the Empire to fill their stomachs, and this is how these peasants repay our grace? They should fight for the knightly spirit!"

"That’s because you don’t understand how Laine and Francois trained their soldiers!" Lord Kaled retorted with a cold smile toward Duke Hagen, shooting back, "The peasant infantry corps under Laine has both meals substantial! There’s vegetable allocation every day! Every three days, they receive a meat soup or roast, and every Sunday, they eat baked pies!"

"If war breaks out, these soldiers have solid rations daily—one kilogram of bread, half a kilogram of vegetables and fruits, 100 grams of meat, and 100 grams of mixed meat (animal offal). They receive a weekly salary of twelve copper coins reliably, ensuring full disbursement. When fully fed on the front, these peasant soldiers naturally fight unto death, without complaint, as they find no reason to hold back! Moreover, achieving military merit earns them the status of Free People!" Lord Kaled stood up, his face flushed with anger: "Laine issuing some military pay is a special case, which we won’t discuss, but when training peasants they’re not even fed properly—how can they possibly fight willingly?"

After finishing, Lord Kaled couldn’t hold back adding: "Are we relying entirely on the Lady’s Divine Grace to encourage peasants to fight to the death on an empty stomach?"

"Kaled, you’re mad! You dare use the Lady as an analogy!" Duke Hagen also stood up, equally angry, feeling his brain was a mess: "Do you realize what you’re actually saying? I think you’re..."

"Am I wrong in any way? As Laine would say, you expect the warhorse to fight desperately yet don’t feed it beans and carrots—how is that possible?!" Lord Kaled also refused to back down, confronting like that with the Duke face to face.

Everyone hurriedly interceded.

At that moment, the statue of the Lake Fairy behind Lorne suddenly radiated light. The Goddess merely hummed softly, and before everyone could react, the sacred light faded away, leaving the serene countenance and unfathomable smile crafted by the sculptor on the stone statue.

Led by Lorne, all the knights in the tent immediately knelt. Nobody knew what the Goddess meant, but she clearly did not wish for everyone to continue quarreling.

"Well, I’ll just say one thing, that southern folks are really wealthy," Duke Hagen, being a devout believer of the Lake Fairy himself, immediately abandoned the dispute: "I apologize for my irrationality to you, Lord Kaled."