Chapter 76 Relief

Ludwig hummed a familiar Saxon tune and poured himself half a glass more of the liquor. The level of the gin in the bottle was visibly dropping quickly.

“That’s enough, enough, Lieutenant Colonel. If you drink any more, the medical sergeants are definitely going to come after me tomorrow.”

Morin grabbed the bottle and twisted the cap shut.

Although it originated in Flanders and was popularized in Britannia, this liquor, also known as ‘Gin,’ was also very popular in Saxony… especially in the northern regions.

It was one of the choices available for an officer’s liquor quota, along with brandy and Korn.

It was just that Morin himself didn’t much care for the taste of the stuff.

“Hmph, stingy.”

Ludwig pouted, drained the remaining liquor in his cup, and smacked his lips, seeming still unsatisfied.

He stood up and stretched his limbs. The wound on his ribs seemed to be aching again, causing him to wince.

“Morin, you… you really opened my eyes this time.”

Ludwig walked to the door, turned back, and winked at Morin.

“Your future is truly limitless now.”

“I can’t even see the shadow of it yet, Lieutenant Colonel,” Morin said, smiling wryly and waving his hand.

“It’s only a matter of time, I guarantee it!”

Ludwig threw down this statement, then pulled open the door and cautiously peered outside.

After confirming no one was there, he limped off into the night.

Morin watched his retreating figure and shook his head, yet he felt much more assured because of the other man’s words.

At least the matter of him becoming a spellcaster didn’t seem dangerous at all, but rather like a nice lottery ticket in life.

---

Early the next morning, Morin carried the three spell manuals, which had already been ‘drained’ of experience, and headed to the brigade headquarters to submit them.

He had just passed the tent area of the field hospital when he witnessed a scene that made him burst out laughing.

Several medical sergeants were surrounding Ludwig, all with stern faces, spittle flying as they lectured him.

Perhaps due to some special requirement, the medical sergeants in the Saxon Army were all physically strong, tall, and imposing.

Ludwig, surrounded by them, couldn’t move an inch…

“Lieutenant Colonel! We are concerned for your health!”

“Did you sneak a drink again last night, sir? We can all smell the alcohol on you!”

“If this continues, we will have no choice but to tie you to the bed!”

Ludwig was being scolded like a fresh recruit, his head bowed, not daring to utter a sound.

When he saw Morin walking past, trying to stifle his laughter, he glared fiercely at Morin, causing a few of the medical sergeants to turn their attention toward him as well.

Seeing this, Morin quickly sped up and made a hasty escape.

He didn’t want to incur the wrath of those medical sergeants, who looked capable of tearing an enemy apart with their bare hands, and who were, after all, some of the most essential low-ranking officers not to offend.

---

The temporary headquarters of the 16th Brigade had been located inside the relatively intact City Hall building since the street fighting began.

After registering at the entrance, Morin was led to a staff officer.

When he placed the three manuals, which still emitted a faint arcane aura, onto the table, the staff officer—who had been somewhat confused upon hearing that Morin had important items to submit—nearly had his eyes pop out.

“These… these are High-Level Mage spell notes?”

The staff officer clearly recognized their value. He carefully picked one up, flipping through a few pages, his hands trembling slightly.

“And three of them?! We thought those High-Level Mages hadn’t left anything behind…”

“My apologies. I haven’t confiscated things like this before, so I didn’t know I had to hand them over.”

Morin scratched his head awkwardly, giving an innocent smile:

“I only brought these over to submit after hearing others mention it.”

The matter of Morin capturing the High-Level Mage’s notes was quickly reported up the chain of command.

Soon, the entire brigade headquarters learned that he had become a spellcaster on the battlefield. Major General Paul even requested a private meeting with him.

After realizing that Morin was not joking, Major General Paul’s reaction was similar to Ludwig’s, equally lamenting Morin’s limitless potential.

The news spread like wildfire, circulating throughout the 16th Brigade’s garrison in a single day, even reaching the adjacent National Army allies who were resting.

“A spellcaster appeared in the Saxon unit!”

“I heard he’s a Second Lieutenant and performed great deeds in the Battle of Seville!”

“Is that true? Aren’t the Saxon mages all in the rear or part of the Royal Guard?”

“Absolutely true. I saw him fly with my own eyes!”

“Yeah, yeah, and he can breathe fire! He was incredibly powerful!”

In an instant, Friedrich Morin became the most discussed name among the combined forces stationed in Seville.

His actions in the previous battles were connected and embellished, ultimately evolving into multiple versions.

Among these versions, the most outrageous was the one where ‘Morin single-handedly took down three High-Level Mages by throwing grenades at them from the sky.’

Almost every day, people came to the 3rd Company’s garrison under various pretexts, curious to ‘visit’ him.

Some were genuinely curious, wanting to see a Mage up close, as spellcasters were quite rare for both the Saxons and the International Brigade volunteers.

According to the entries Morin updated through the 【Intelligence】 tab, the Saxon Empire’s Mage population was far inferior to that of the Britannians in both number and level…

The main issue was the lack of high-level spellcasters.

In addition to those curious to see the spectacle, there were also some surviving Saxon officers who wanted to befriend this future ‘potential star.’

The entrance to the 3rd Company’s temporary garrison suddenly became a bustling hub, busier than the Battalion Headquarters.

This forced Klaus and Bowman to temporarily act as door guards, their throats going dry just from constantly turning people away.

Morin, meanwhile, was left smiling wryly at this sudden ‘enthusiasm.’

He felt less like he had become a Mage and more like a giant panda being viewed in a zoo…

---

During these few days when Morin was being observed like a rare animal, the overall situation in the Kingdom of Aragon finally took a turn for the better.

This time, Morin’s ‘jinx’ seemed to have lost its effect, and the battle situation did not spiral further downward.

As General August von Mackensen personally commanded twelve fully equipped Saxon infantry divisions to rush from the Imperial border toward Cuenca and Valencia.

The Kingdom Army and the Britannian Expeditionary Force, who had previously been advancing triumphantly all the way to the sea, instantly felt the immense pressure of a mountain bearing down on them.

The enemy forces attacking Cuenca and Valencia totaled only five divisions at most, and over half of those were the less effective Kingdom Army troops.

These forces were adequate for fighting the National Army with a numerical advantage, but going up against the regular army of the Saxon Empire was like hitting a rock with an egg.

With almost no fierce resistance, the enemy forces occupying the two provinces began a large- scale retreat.

Their commanders knew very well that if they didn’t run now, their fate would be to be crushed into powder by the massive Saxon army.

In this process, the Britannian Expeditionary Force displayed extremely sophisticated tactical discipline.

Although scattered across different parts of the front line, they still quickly disengaged and retreated to defend Madrid.

However, many of the slower, less-organized Kingdom Army troops became sacrificial lambs…

With the enemy’s retreat, the severed railway line was reopened, and the Saxon Expeditionary Force, trapped deep in the heart of Aragon, was finally relieved of the siege.

When the news reached Seville, the entire Saxon garrison was jubilant.

The tension and despair that had lingered for days were swept away, replaced by the ecstasy of surviving against all odds.

Soldiers cheered, hugged each other, and tossed their spiked helmets into the air.

And this time, no one tried to stop their celebration.

Although the officers maintained their composure, their flushed cheeks and bright eyes betrayed their inner excitement.

Morin also let out a long sigh of relief. The massive stone that had weighed on his heart for days had finally been put down.

It was truly good to be alive.

(End of this Chapter)