Cthulhu Gonfalon

In the winter military training of the Baron Keane Hill, an interesting thing occurred.

At the time of the second military training, a large group of farmers were lined up in the grain-filled ground and worked hard to practice the thrusting techniques under the guidance of the junior officer. Suddenly, the sentinel who was responsible for standing guard at the village watchtower screamed and rang the alarm bell.

Every village or town’s watchtower had an alarm bell, and once the sentinel found an emergency, he would ring the bell. When he rang the bell, the elderly, the weak, women and children should hide as soon as possible, and the young and strong must gather immediately, trying to resist the threat.

This was the common practice in every place of the Main Plane, so various settled races were similar in practice.

When the bell rang, the farmers immediately panicked. The last time the bell had rung had been when Crick’s brother, Geersan Keane, had been in charge. At that time, a terrible troll had come to the territory. When Geersan led a team to kill the monster, he had been seriously injured. He had already died before he was sent to the temple to receive the priest’s treatment.

That was already five years ago. For most people, five years was such a long period of time that many people had forgotten that horrible experience. However, at this moment, when the bell rang, the horrible memory of five years ago emerged from the hearts of the people who had seen the monster. Their legs could not help but shake, and they almost couldn’t stand still.

That horrible monster had had a gray-green body like a hill and had been covered with thick moss. It was powerful, but what had been even more frightening had been that it was almost impossible to kill. More than once, brave soldiers had pierced their sharp spears into his body, watching the green blood spurting out. However, in a time of a sentence, the spurting blood had stopped, and after a few more sentences, the wound had begun to heal. It was incredible.

The brave Baron Geersan had grief because of this. He had taken a group of people and tied up the monster with a strong rope. Then, he had knocked him down together with them and waved a big ax to chop it. Its head was cut off, and there was blood flowing all over on the ground.

At that time, everyone had thought that this guy was not completely dead. His head had been cut off, so how could he not die? As a result, the accident had happened on the way back to show his body in public.

The chopped-off head had reemerged, and the “corpse” resting on the plank cart had recovered its vitality. The resurrected monster had jumped up and slammed down with his fists. He had hit Baron Geersan who had been riding on the horse. The poor baron had been knocked off, rolling on the ground with his body almost changing into another shape.

With the joint effort of the soldiers and the hunters, the monster had been tied up again and then had been cut into pieces and burned to ashes. However, Baron Geersan had died because of his heavy injuries.

No one knew what the monster that came to attack this time would be. If it was the same as last time, that would be fine. After the last time, everyone had experience. They were afraid that if it were some other horrible thing, for example, a legendary dragon or something…

The farmers obviously thought too much. Of course, the Duchy of Thunder had a dragon. However, which dragon would be so bored to come to attack a small village?

Was there anything a dragon wanted here? Glittering gold coins? The gems used to decorate a cave? Food with strong vitality?

There was nothing here. For a dragon, it was a completely barren land!

After a while, under the leadership of the officer, the militiamen saw the incoming monsters.

They were two ogres running out of nowhere.

Using the height of a normal man as a reference, they were at least a little more than twice as high as him. Unlike trolls, they were smelly and powerful, using thick wooden sticks as weapons. They caught everything to eat, so people were naturally in their recipe.

These kinds of monsters were very dangerous because they often caused serious damage. Although they didn’t have undead bodies like trolls, their destructive power was stronger than trolls. Trolls often found a place to sleep when they were full, and sometimes they could sleep for three or five days after a meal. However, ogres must eat two meals every day, which resulted in an amazing gap in food intake. More importantly, trolls were omnivorous. If they couldn’t find any animals to eat, they could eat grass as well. Ogres were different. They had to eat meat, and they were keen on catching creatures with two legs that ran slowly and were short of fighting capacity. That was the origin of the name “ogre.”

If they followed the rules of the last time, the militiamen who attempted to use ropes to tie the ogres would suffer great losses. After all, ogres were more powerful than trolls, and they were also good at using big sticks, so their combat power was much stronger than trolls.

Fortunately, the junior officer who led the training had seen the ogres’ information while studying. As an elite of the new army, he had firmly remembered the information of the common or particularly dangerous monsters. The ogres were among them.

Therefore, he immediately began to make preparations, mainly to quickly convert spare spears into throwing spears. Then he had the hunters arrange in formation. Fortunately, the ogres were slow. When they reached outside the village, the hunters had finished the preparations.

It was a fierce battle.

The power of the ogres was unmatched in front of ordinary farmers. If the ogres attempted a melee attack, hundreds of people would be defeated in one swoop. However, relying on the two hunters in the village who attracted them with arrows, these two stupid big monsters were led to an open place, and what was waiting for them was more than a dozen throwing spears whistling towards them.

While the ogres were roaring because of the pain caused by their injuries, the officer led his team to get close. They threw cables and fishing nets temporarily trapping them, and then they threw their spears again.

Finally, the brave officer led several villagers with great strength to end the battle with spears.

The battle was not long, but the result was great. Only one officer and dozens of militiamen, as well as two hunters, had killed two horrible ogres with simple weapons. Such military gains were splendid even in those brave areas where even children could use weapons. Moreover, Baron Keane Hill was not the kind of place where brave people appeared one after another. What was popular here was culture and art, and even farmers liked to sing and dance in their leisure time instead of fighting.

But it was this group of scholars or artists that had done what ordinary warriors couldn’t do!

For this reason, Crick commended the officer named York greatly, giving him a bonus as well as a medal. As a hero who had led a group of farmers to kill two ogres, he deserved this honor.

Interestingly, York himself also benefited greatly from this battle. His professional level increased another sergeant level on the basis of his original soldier level of four.

With a combat level of five, he was enough to qualify as a professional. More importantly, “sergeant’ was a profession which belonged to commanders. York could comprehend this profession in the battle, which meant he had this talent.

Commanding was a very rare talent. A person who had not been specially trained but could comprehend the commanding profession relying only on last-minute planning and battle experience deserved great cultivation!

Therefore, after the commending, York’s job was mobilized. Crick contacted Mr. Gerald, the legendary strongman “Steel Giant,” the head of the Knights of the Church of Void Mask through Archbishop Miramon. He sent Mr. Gerald a lavish gift, asking him to let York learn officer knowledge in the Void Mask Knights.

Unlike the fierce appearance, Mr. Gerald was a very easy-going person. He didn’t want to accept the gift, but he couldn’t stand Crick’s repeated pleading. When he finally accepted the carefully prepared gift, he was actually a little flustered.

This made Crick feel a bit weird but also more assured of the character of the legendary strongman. He believed that York would be able to succeed while learning from the knights.

Baron Keane Hill could confer titles of knights on three people, and there was still a seat empty. If York could become a good commander, then perhaps he would be the last knight of Baron Hill.

“Keane Hill is still too small after all, and the people are still too few here…” After sending away York, Crick sat in his chair, thinking for a long time. Then he couldn’t help but sigh deeply.

He had already detected them with his own ability. Among the civilians on Keane Hill, there were no more people with great talents or high qualifications. If he wanted to find such talents, he could only search elsewhere.

Fortunately, in the past few years, the management of the territory had also formed a virtuous cycle. When the fruit trees were strong, the herbs could be picked, and the workshops for brewing fruit wines were built. Everything should be all right.

When he wrote it down, he felt a little painful and stuffy in his chest. He put down the charcoal pen that was used to record his own piecemeal ideas and gently tapped his chest. He coughed a lot.

“This illness seems to be worse…” This time, he coughed for a long time before it gradually subsided. He took the therapeutic potion with honey inside it next to his hand, took a sip and then let out a low sigh.

He had investigated his physical condition in detail, and he had also looked for several priests to help him. The conclusion had basically been the same: although he had come back from the battlefield of “Sun’s Death Day” alive, he had been involved in a fierce battle with a mortal body. Therefore, he had been infused with a variety of Divine Powers, and it had formed around him like a curse.

The priests could dispel the curse on him with prayers even if the curse came from the infusion of Divine Powers. A master like Archbishop Miramon could help him dispel it, too. However, because all kinds of Divine Powers in his body faintly formed a balance, even if Archbishop Miramon didn’t dare to act rashly, fearing that if the balance was destroyed, some magical powers would burst out. At that time, Archbishop Miramon would probably be able to withstand it, but he was afraid that Crick’s soul might be destroyed. It may even be impossible to resurrect.

Therefore, Crick could only tolerate these Divine Powers fighting against each other, which seemed to use his body as a battlefield. In the course of the battle, his body was of course deeply affected. Even though he kept maintaining it, often taking therapeutic potions, he could barely stand it.

Now he spent more than 100 gold coins every month on taking therapeutic potions. Fortunately, Priest Morton pastor helped treat it, otherwise he wouldn’t know how much it would cost!

“It’s a bottomless pit!”

Crick sighed inwardly. He only hoped that these Divine Powers would soon determine a winner. No matter which side won, it would be good. Even if he got a serious illness, it wouldn’t matter. It was better to have a short, sharp pain than long, dull pain. A serious illness would at least spare the later troubles!