Chapter 297: Achievement Unlocked

Morin never expected that he would end up resembling a certain “Medal Fanatic” in his lifetime.

Opposite him, Albert II obviously hadn’t expected to pin so many medals on Morin in one go either.

To boost morale, Albert II and the big shots of the Army finally decided to award Morin the medals on the spot.

Under normal circumstances, except for medals of the level of the Blue Max and the Grand Cross of the Iron Cross, other medals were simply handed out in boxes.

Their decision reflected the importance they attached to Morin and the instruction unit.

Although the act of hanging a bunch of medals on Morin all at once indeed made the surrounding soldiers look on with envy, it also caused beads of fine sweat to appear on the forehead of His Majesty Albert II.

As he kept pinning, he discovered that there seemed to be no more room for new medals on Morin’s relatively crisp lieutenant’s uniform.

Moreover, for some newly established medals, such as the glittering “Gold Spellbreaker Medal,” he himself was somewhat unclear about the specific wearing regulations.

“Ahem—” His Majesty coughed lightly, trying to hide his embarrassment.

Fortunately, a sharp-eyed attendant nearby noticed Albert II’s awkwardness.

He quickly stepped forward and, with an extremely professional and polite attitude, whispered a few reminders in the Emperor’s ear, then assisted him in completing the wearing of the remaining medals and commemorative medals.

As for Morin, he felt like he was madly unlocking achievements in a game.

Whenever a piece of cold metal touched his chest, a relevant message would immediately update in the [Information] tab in his mind.

[Gold Spellbreaker Medal: This combatant has killed 5 or more enemy formal spellcasters]

[Gold Infantry Assault Medal: This combatant has participated in 10 or more infantry assault operations, counter-assault operations, armed reconnaissance, close-quarters combat, or position retaking battles]

[Bronze Close Combat Clasp: This combatant has cumulatively participated in 15 close-quarters combats]

[Air Assault Medal: This combatant has participated in one air assault battle (vehicle unlimited)]

[Black Wound Badge: This combatant or civil servant has been injured once or twice due to official duties or combat]

As for the three commemorative medals for the Battle of Liège, Battle of Charleroi, and Battle of Arras, there was no need to mention them.

Proper “out-of-print achievements”; miss this village, and there’s no such shop anymore.

When the last commemorative medal was pinned on his arm, Morin felt his upper body become much heavier, and his chest jingled with every slight movement.

“The commemorative medals for the battles of Amiens, Creil, and Paris are still being designed and produced,” Minister of War Falkenhayn stepped forward and added.

“Once completed, they will be issued together.”

“Good, very good!”

Albert II looked at the young officer in front of him, covered in medals, and the smile on his face became even brighter.

He patted Morin’s shoulder, his voice full of praise.

“Lieutenant Colonel Morin, you are the first Imperial officer to wear these newly established medals. You are the pride of our Saxon noble youth. I hope you will continue to work hard and establish even greater merits for the Empire!”

“Your Majesty overpraises me.”

Morin thought to himself—A few more times, and whether I’ll be alive to take them is a question—but said with utmost sincerity: “All this is the glory of the Empire and Your Majesty. I only did what I should have done.”

Albert II nodded with satisfaction.

As the Emperor, he would naturally only personally award medals to Morin alone today, so the remaining process was much faster.

After his ceremony ended, the medals for other officers and soldiers were distributed by the attendants along with exquisite small boxes and certificates.

The Emperor spoke a few words of encouragement to all officers and soldiers of the Instruction Assault Battalion, nothing more than “the Empire will not forget any meritorious official,” “your sacrifice and dedication will be remembered,” and so on.

Morin naturally knew that at such times, he must provide enough emotional value to his “top boss.”

He immediately turned to face his troops and roared with all his strength: “For the Empire! For His Majesty the Emperor!”

“For the Empire! For His Majesty the Emperor!”

The soldiers, who had just received their medals and promotion orders, were at the peak of their morale.

They responded to their commander with roars. The killing intent honed from mountains of corpses and seas of blood, mixed with the high fighting spirit at this moment, shot straight into the sky.

The soldiers of the Imperial Guard Honor Guard standing on the red carpet, although standing straight, turned somewhat pale under the impact of this momentum.

Each of them felt that the ceremonial rifles in their hands were light and weightless.

After all the procedures were over, the supreme ruler of the Empire left the station contentedly under the escort of Little Moltke, Falkenhayn, and a large number of attendants and Imperial Guards.

Morin breathed a heavy sigh of relief, feeling more tired than fighting a battle.

Then he turned around and asked the companies to form up, leading this unit that had just experienced a moment of glory to the temporary camp specially opened for them by the fortification troops in the suburbs.

Upon arriving at the temporary camp, Morin let the officers of each company and platoon lead their troops away, allowing them to start their first “carnival” after arriving in the rear.

Of course, this “carnival” meant nothing more than taking a hot bath, lying on a clean camp cot without worrying about shells falling the next second, and having a good sleep…

But Morin, Kleist, and Manstein did not rest.

Because the Army Department soon sent officers to deliver the official documents regarding the unit’s expansion.

When the three saw the word “regiment-level” on the document, even though they were mentally prepared before, they were still somewhat surprised.

“My God, really expanding into a regiment?”

Kleist looked at the document, his brows furrowed into a knot: “A battalion and a regiment are completely different concepts. Just the newly added soldiers and officers at all levels are enough for us to deal with! And the command system, logistics supply, staff work—everything has to be rebuilt from scratch.”

“It is indeed a huge challenge.”

Excitement flashed in Manstein’s eyes.

“But this is also a huge opportunity! An assault instruction regiment formed completely according to the Lieutenant Colonel’s vision! We can truly verify and perfect the ‘Stormtrooper Tactics’ on a regiment scale!”

Morin didn’t speak; he just silently looked at the document.

Jumping directly from a battalion commander to the commander of a reinforced regiment, the span was undeniably large, and he knew it well.

Behind this was not only an increase in troops but also a “super doubling” of responsibilities as a commander, which was obviously somewhat beyond his syllabus.

Fortunately, he was not just standing on the shoulders of one giant, but had countless giants standing behind him…

Morin browsed the document like this, and when he saw one of the contents, he breathed a sigh of relief.

That was, the troops used for expansion would be drawn from various main forces that had participated in the Western Front campaign, ensuring at least half of the personnel were veterans with combat experience.

The newly replenished officers at all levels would be interviewed and assessed uniformly by Morin’s command group under the organization of the Army Department.

“That’s good, that’s good—”

Morin muttered in his heart.

“At least they gave us the power to pick people ourselves. If they forcefully stuffed a bunch of gilded idiots in, that would be troublesome.”

The three of them faced the documents and began preliminary planning for the future unit organization until the afternoon, when the sound of a car engine came from the camp gate again.

A middle-aged man wearing the badge of a Royal Attendant, accompanied by several Army Department officers and entourages, walked into this temporary camp.

“Good afternoon, Lieutenant Colonel Morin.”

The leading Royal Attendant had a professional smile on his face and saluted impeccably first.

“I am His Majesty’s attendant, ordered to bring some things for you and your subordinates.”

The attendant turned sideways, and several entourages behind him immediately moved several large boxes in.

The boxes opened, revealing several sets of brand-new, crisp field officer and company officer uniforms.

“This is—” Morin looked at the new uniforms, somewhat surprised.

The attendant smiled and explained: “The uniforms of officers of the Saxon Imperial Army are traditionally purchased or custom-made by themselves… His Majesty considered that you and your subordinates just returned from the front line and might not have time to prepare, so he specially instructed us to urgently make new uniforms for you.”

Kleist and Manstein looked at each other, seeing surprise in each other’s eyes.

“Thank His Majesty for his generosity!” Kleist said sincerely, “This really solves a big problem for us.”

Manstein nodded in agreement: “Yes, wearing these clothes brought back from the front line is indeed somewhat improper… His Majesty’s concern is truly meticulous.”

Morin maintained a polite smile, but he knew Albert II’s intention very well.

This wasn’t simply giving uniforms; this was clearly the Emperor bestowing favors, using this method to further win over him and others, binding the instruction unit and the interests of the royal family tighter.

However, having new clothes to wear was a good thing after all, so he naturally thanked them repeatedly.

At the same time, he wondered if this counted as Albert II “NTR-ing” Crown Prince Georg?

The attendant completed the task, exchanged a few pleasantries with Morin, and then stepped aside.

The officers from the Army Department came forward.

“Lieutenant Colonel Morin, we have one more thing to notify you.”

One of the officers took out an invitation from his briefcase and handed it over.

“The Army Department will hold a banquet tomorrow night. General Falkenhayn specially instructed me to invite you, the hero of the Empire, to attend.”

Banquet?

Morin’s brow furrowed subconsciously.

His mind was full of the unit expansion, wishing he could split one day into two. How could he be in the mood to attend any banquet?

He wanted to find an excuse to decline, such as “busy with unit affairs,” but when he saw General Falkenhayn’s signature on the invitation, he swallowed his words.

This was his direct superior, the top boss of the Army Department.

His invitation… calling it an invitation was actually no different from an order.

As a Lieutenant Colonel who had just been exceptionally promoted, he naturally couldn’t reject the Minister’s face at this time.

“I understand.” Morin took the invitation and forced a smile, “Please tell the Minister that I will be there on time.”

“Very good.”

The officer nodded with satisfaction, gave some instructions on the banquet, and left with his people.

“Banquet?” After the attendant left, Kleist leaned over, “It seems, Lieutenant Colonel, you are about to enter the social circle.”

Manstein also joked with a smile: “Can’t help it, who let our commander be the Empire’s big celebrity now? I’m afraid such occasions will be indispensable in the future.”

“Come on… don’t tease me. How about I take you two with me?”

Morin waved his hand helplessly, then said: “I’d rather run ten kilometers on the training ground than deal with those big shots.”

Although he said so, Morin knew in his heart that this was a step he had to take.

To gain greater power, he must enter that circle and become familiar with their game rules.

He casually placed the invitation on the table and said to Kleist and Manstein: “Let’s not talk about this. The unit just came back, everyone must be exhausted… Kleist, make arrangements. Starting tonight, the unit will go on leave in batches.”

“Let them visit the places they should visit in Koblenz and relax… If the money isn’t enough, withdraw from me.”

“Yes, sir!” Kleist responded immediately, a smile appearing on his face.

“Manstein, you’ll have to work hard. Based on our discussion this afternoon, draft the staff team and the organization of each battalion and company first. We’ll discuss it in detail tomorrow.”

“No problem, sir.”

Manstein nodded. Even if Morin hadn’t assigned this task, he would have actively applied to do it.

For no other reason than he liked organizing units~

The next evening, after Morin finished handling the affairs at hand and toured the various camp areas to confirm that the soldiers on leave were emotionally stable, he returned to his barracks.

He changed into the brand-new M1910 Field Grey field officer uniform.

The tailored cut made his already upright figure appear even more martial, and the brand-new Lieutenant Colonel shoulder boards reflected a soft light under the lamp.

He meticulously pinned the large row of medals according to regulations. Especially the Blue Max in the center of his collar made him exude a majesty inconsistent with his age.

Morin looked at himself in the mirror, an Army Lieutenant Colonel who was only twenty-two years old but already covered in medals.

An absurd sense of unreality surged in his heart.

“Going to deal with the Empire’s high society again—” he muttered in a low voice, then took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

A black Radiant Crystal Car with an Army Department license plate was waiting quietly at the door.

The driver opened the door for him, and Morin bent down and sat in.

With the low roar of the engine, the car smoothly left the military camp and headed towards a brightly lit manor in the suburbs.

Outside the car window, the city lights gradually became sparse, replaced by the quiet night of the suburbs.

Morin leaned back in the soft seat, closed his eyes, and began to rehearse various situations he might encounter tonight and the rhetoric to deal with them in his mind.

He had a premonition that tonight’s banquet would be another completely different battlefield for him.