Chapter 241: The Musketeers and the Imminent War
Unconsciously, summer arrived, the scorching sun hung high in the sky, roasting the three thousand soldiers standing on the training ground. Beads of sweat dripped incessantly from their foreheads, soaking into their collars, leaving their whole bodies uncomfortably damp, yet no one dared to move.
Old York had been standing on the training ground for a full two hours. Every inch of his body ached, but he gritted his teeth and persevered until the noon bell rang for their break.
But he barely had time to rest. He hurriedly dashed, joining the long queue to collect today's lunch—two pieces of white bread, a small bowl of vegetable soup, along with a palm-sized grilled fish or an equivalent portion of camel meat.
For Old York, this was a luxurious delight. Despite earning a monthly salary of twenty silver coins by joining the Musketeers, they couldn't afford such extravagance on ordinary days.
Only here did they have three meals a day, each with meat. Normally, they'd have only one or even two meals.
"Old York, do you think the Lord suddenly gathering so many for training means we're going to war?" During the break, a burly man tapped his shoulder, unable to hold back his inquiry.
This was the gossip spreading wildly throughout Iyeta Harbor recently. Almost anyone with a bit of intellect could sense an impending war.
After all, Iyeta had previously relied on some security teams for management, but now, the sudden recruitment of three thousand, forming this Musketeer squad, made the intentions pretty clear.
"Probably," Old York muttered while chewing his bread, feeling a bit uneasy himself.
In the wizard's land, they hadn't experienced what could be termed as war. Yet, every Monday, the sailors arriving at Iyeta from the outside world would squander their copper coins in the taverns, lamenting their hardships elsewhere.
In the Sekas Empire, whether farming or laboring, the meager rewards obtained had to be partly surrendered to the local church for repentance for their year-long wrongdoings. Then they had to pay taxes to the so-called nobles, leaving only a small portion truly theirs.
This notion further convinced the residents of the harbor town that the outside world was a barbaric hell. If they lost this war, their families would be cruelly slaughtered, their lands seized, and their properties looted.
Having glimpsed some hope for a better life, Old York was unwilling to toil only to lose everything, so their daily training became especially earnest.
The guards of the Musketeers were thrilled, their hands trembling, yet within a half-hour, they had a rudimentary grasp of how to use it.
"First three hundred, stand forth, load the ammunition, aim at the target ahead, maintain body balance, and pull the trigger!" Robin shouted loudly.
Old York stepped forward, somewhat awkwardly inserting round lead bullets into the gun's barrel. Then, aiming about ten meters away, he followed Robin's instructions and pulled the trigger.
Immediately, a thunderous explosion reverberated, catching Old York completely off guard. His ears buzzed, and due to the powerful recoil, he fell flat on the ground.
"Thunderstorm... Thunderstorm!"
Accompanied by a series of thunderous gunshots, the neat formation of the three hundred on the training ground turned chaotic. Roughly a quarter of them were knocked down due to being unprepared for the recoil, several even startled and dazed by the sudden explosion, repeatedly yelling, "Thunderstorm!"
Robin's expression soured. He blew the whistle, instantly calming the previously chaotic group. Old York and others instinctively jumped up, returning to their positions.
It was only then that Old York noticed the target ahead was shattered, even the sturdy armor pierced through. The incredible power left everyone speechless.
Many now remembered Lynn mentioning earlier that this device was a creation from the alchemy workshop, suggesting it possibly contained the wizards' magic, like concentrating the power of thunder and flames within these firearms, explaining their formidable might!
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