Neo scooped up a little soup with a small spoon, blew on it gently, and tasted it for saltiness.
Judging by the expression on his face, he was satisfied. He then ladled out two bowls, placing one before himself and the other before the communication array—which meant before Karen.
He picked up a pair of silver chopsticks, paused, pulled out another pair, and stuck them upright into Karen's bowl.
"Taste it. The flavor is really good."
"All right. Take the chopsticks out."
"You need to trust my culinary skills."
"All right. Take the chopsticks out."
"You'll regret it if you don't try it."
"Heh."
Neo did not remove the chopsticks. He simply dug in on his own. He had witnessed the funeral Karen held for Head Bishop Wolflen; even now, Leon often went back to make a bowl of wontons to offer before his grandfather's memorial portrait. Neo had done it purely on purpose.
After finishing a large bowl, Neo let out a long breath, picked up Karen's bowl, and said, "You should be done with yours, so I'll eat it. Can't let it go to waste."
"It's fine. Watching you eat brings me great comfort."
"Oh, really?"
"You need to eat more so you can grow big and strong."
"Heh heh." Between bites, Neo asked, "You actually managed to snatch this post. How did you pull it off?"
"Played dumb."
"Oh?" Neo pondered for a moment, not probing any further. Instead, he asked, "When are you coming over?"
"Soon. Probably in the next few days, arriving with the main force."
"Once you get here, the fighting will officially kick off. Both sides should wrap up their war preparations around the same time. I'm really looking forward to it."
Karen said nothing.
Neo said, "Quick, say you are too."
Karen did not say that. Instead, he offered a deliberate smile. "What's there to look forward to? War is merely the continuation of politics."
"Tsk!"
Karen sighed, his tone turning serious. "I'll still have to rely on you."
He had secured the position, having turned in a blank exam paper with the slogan of obeying orders and acting as an obedient puppet. But in the end, it meant commanding a corps of tens of thousands against a coalition of churches. In his heart, Karen still felt somewhat ungrounded.
After all, he had begun things in the manner of a sycophant; he truly feared ending them in the same way.
"What are you worried about? No need to fret over that. Do you know what kind of battle is the easiest to fight?" Without keeping him guessing, Neo gave the answer straight away: "An affluent one."
Karen picked up the ice water in front of him and took a sip.
Neo continued, "After receiving reinforcements, the coalition is massive—in numbers, they even outnumber us by at least two to three times. But their main body consists of sixteen orthodox churches plus a large flock of large and medium-sized churches. An overinflated opponent like that is nothing to fear.
"Besides, the Church of Order really isn't lacking. Although we can't take on the entire ecclesiastical world single-handedly, right now this is just a war with a restricted battlefield and scale. The Church of Order truly lacks for nothing. On top of that, our logistical supplies, personnel rotations, and everything else are easily more than a tier above the coalition's.
"The reason you feel uneasy is simple: all along, you've been in the habit of doing your best in everything. When you suddenly take on unfamiliar affairs, it's easy to feel disoriented.
"Remember one thing: in war, there is never a 'best.'
"We aren't sitting in the High Priest's seat. He has to take the big picture into account to calculate gains and losses—philosophical dilemmas like losing yet winning, or winning being equivalent to losing, have nothing to do with us.
"On this test paper, you can never get a hundred points. Getting a passing score of sixty isn't hard, and often, the result of a sixty is better than a hundred."
Karen asked, "Isn't what you're doing right now also philosophical musing?"
"Ha, maybe so. I'm comforting you. If the people under you knew that their leader—the man they follow and hold as their faith—was actually suffering from cold feet and second-guessing himself at a time like this, their jaws would drop. But don't worry, I'll keep your secret. Heh heh."
"Get some rest early."
"I know. Hurry up, pack your things, and get over here. Reorganization and training can continue just fine once you reach the front lines."
"Transporting equipment and supplies takes time too."
"Oh, right, I almost forgot that. This time, the Whip-Wielder will probably shower us with plenty of good stuff." Neo set down his bowl, rubbing his hands together in excitement. "Maybe our militia corps will be outfitted no worse than regular troops converted from garrisons."
The Church of Order's military hierarchy was very clear now. The Knight Orders indisputably held the core, ace status. The second operational tier was the regular army formed by garrisons across the regions. The third operational tier consisted of the most numerous militia corps.
Below them were two more tiers. The fourth operational tier was the auxiliary forces, referring to affiliated churches and factions under the Church of Order. For example, the Church of the Crypt would dispatch combat forces to join; Augie's mother would personally lead dragons onto the field; Dark Moon Island would form a Dark Moon warrior unit to come over; even the Church of Pamires had to contribute craftsmen.
Weak strength was a practical reality, but failing to send troops was an attitude problem.
Even if these teacup dogs couldn't bite, they could at least bark around their master's feet to bolster morale and presence.
As for the fifth operational tier, the very bottom of the ladder, that was the Church of the Desert. In any era, a faction that invited foreign intervention due to foolish, short-sighted internal strife would basically be trampled to the very bottom.
The other dogs under the Church of Order's feet, though frequently beaten, were at least fed some dog food occasionally. But the Church of the Desert nowadays didn't just bring its own dog food; while serving as a dog, it even had to pay tribute to its master.
"You still need to exercise some restraint," Karen reminded him.
"I know, I know. You know my steady and prudent nature."
Karen smiled and nodded. He suddenly realized his primary purpose in going to the front lines: someone had to keep a leash on this fun-seeking hound. At this thought, Karen felt instantly relieved and clear-minded.
Ending the communication, Neo shut down the array.
Just then, Ventura and Muri walked into the military tent.
"Ha! Eating good food without calling me!"
Ventura sat cross-legged and began eating. He recognized what the food was, but he never looked down on such things. In fact, if Neo hadn't stopped him, Little Stone, who couldn't bear to see waste under Karen's influence, would almost have launched a campaign to "eliminate pig-swill bucket waste."
Muri sat down and began to eat as well. In his heart he disliked it, but he wouldn't show it on his face.
Neo said, "I'm issuing two orders now."
Ventura and Muri immediately set down their utensils and sat up straight.
"First, starting today, grant the Church of the Desert semi-equal treatment. They won't need to go fishing in the swill buckets anymore."
Little Stone's eyes widened; his heart ached. The logistics of their militia corps were supplied by the Yorktown Region, and in his mind, that meant digging into their Regional Chief's pocket.
Muri asked, "The large corps is arriving soon, isn't it?"
Neo nodded. "Yes, arriving soon. When the time comes, logistics and supplies will be completely provided by the Whip of Order. Improving the Church of the Desert's treatment ahead of time means that when subsequent units arrive, these Desert priests used for menial labor will be in short supply. We'll attract them over first with slightly better conditions; this bit of stipend and food allowance really amounts to nothing."
Hearing this explanation, Ventura nodded in understanding.
Neo continued, "Inform each battalion commander to step up the training of assistants and mid-to-lower-level commanders to prepare for the upcoming personnel expansion."
"The Regional Chief is coming?" Ventura shouted excitedly.
"Yes, Karen is coming. So the upcoming expansion will use our Yorktown Militia Corps command structure as the backbone. Don't leave any positions for people from other sides."
Muri expressed some concern. "Won't that provoke dissatisfaction from the factions that join later? Are we really not going to leave a single officer position for the Senrol Militia Corps next door?"
"If we leave them positions, what will Karen do when he gets here?"
Muri praised admiringly, "You consider everything so thoroughly."
"Your Regional Chief understands management. Once he arrives, he'll be responsible for internal deterrence within the corps, weathering the pressure from higher-ups in the rear, and negotiating orders with the Knight Orders.
"As for fighting the battles, he won't be micromanaging for now, though I don't doubt your Regional Chief's terrifying 'Plunder' family sequence.
"In short:
"Even after he arrives, the corps' operation will continue as usual. He handles the interior; I handle the exterior."
...
"Hey, why are you here?"
Daina stood in the bedroom doorway, asking Karen, who was seated at the dining table eating.
Karen drank a spoonful of wonton soup and said, "First of all, this is my home. Second of all, put some clothes on."
"Heh, I didn't expect you to be shy."
Miss Daina had just gotten out of bed, wearing only her underwear.
During this period, Karen had rarely stayed home. The house was mostly occupied by women, so she was rather relaxed. Moreover, having grown up in the Knight Orders, she didn't have so many taboos or modesty habits, much like Peg and Fannie back then.
Karen said, "Find time to borrow some rations from Augie. Looking at an underdeveloped body is an eyesore."
Hearing this, Daina's facial muscles stiffened, but she forced a smile. "Oh, you really are terrible."
Augie also walked out of her room at this moment and asked, "Are you praising my figure?"
Perhaps when they first met, Augie would never have imagined asking Karen such a question. Suppressed by Karen, this frost dragon had become desperately starved for validation—if intelligence wasn't enough, she would make up for it with her figure.
Karen said nothing, lowering his head to continue eating his breakfast at one in the morning.
Ignoring IQ and racial factors, Augie's figure truly deserved praise. But with Karen, those factors couldn't simply be ignored.
"Oh-ho-ho-ho..."
Seeing his tacit agreement, Augie nearly let out a dragon roar of laughter.
Little Kanna, having finished washing up, walked out of the washroom, sniffed, and said, "Big dumb dragon, I smell the scent of a dragon in heat."
Augie immediately retorted, "What does that have to do with me? It's not necessarily me. Maybe you're precocious."
Little Kanna said, "Bone dragons don't mate and reproduce using traditional methods. I don't have an estrus function, so it can only be you."
Just like Little Kanna's birth, her life form was more like a "graft."
Augie curled her lip. "Heh, how could I ever permit my offspring to be an inferior sub-dragon?"
Sitting down at the table, Little Kanna said, "I'd find it even harder to accept Karen's children growing dragon scales. Disgusting and low-class."
"Hey, have you forgotten your own race?"
"I don't have dragon scales."
Augie: "..."
Miss Daina took a shower, put on armor, and sat at the table. Picking up a large basin of noodles in front of her, she asked, "Are you heading to the training grounds with me?"
"Yes."
"To accommodate the newly arrived Whip of Order priests, the training grounds were expanded a lot, but it's still three shifts around the clock."
"I know."
"You're certainly busy. But once we march to the front, you can relax, heh."
"I'll have to disappoint you. I'm going to the front too."
Hearing this, Daina seemed to realize something. She immediately put down her fork, stood up, stepped back from her seat, snapped her legs together, threw her chest out, and raised her fist to Karen in salute:
"Lord Corps Commander!"
The willful and unruly adopted daughter of the High Priest was, at least regarding Knight Order protocol, always beyond reproach.
Karen put down his spoon and urged, "Hurry up and eat."
"Yes, Lord Commander!"
After breakfast, Karen drove personally, taking Daina to the training grounds, accompanied by the two dragons as bodyguards.
Upon entering the training grounds, Daina conscientiously headed to her designated area to prepare for training. She had asked Karen for preferential treatment before, but Karen had refused, so she was still just an ordinary militiaman, assigned to the melee axe-and-blade infantry.
In the battle formation, they were positioned behind the shieldbearers and spearmen, wielding melee weapons to maintain the line's stability. The casualty rate was very high.
Karen's arrival prompted the training officer on duty and his deputies to come over to receive him. These instructors had been recommended by Bern, former instructors from the garrison.
Accompanied by them, Karen inspected the training and reorganization. Afterward, the instructors waited for Karen's instructions.
Karen had nothing to instruct. Although an outsider to this, he could still appreciate the precision of the training process.
Militia corps in other regions might just be beefed up through simple filler, but not here. The daily regimen of these "recruits" included not only squad-level exercises, but multi-squad coordination drills.
Training in three shifts meant he was only seeing a third of the force before him, yet during joint exercises, it gave Karen the impression of a complete militia corps.
This meant that once these recruits were sent to the front lines, they could be easily disassembled and slotted into their designated squads with virtually no coordination rustiness or command disruption.
Because they had already been modularized.
Karen praised, "You've done an excellent job."
Training Officer Senis immediately replied, "Actually, we've merely been training according to the training manual left by the former training officer. The results are indeed astonishingly good."
"Oh?"
The former training officer—wasn't that Neo?
"Lord Regional Chief, this training model has very obvious strengths and weaknesses. The advantage is maximizing combat efficiency and minimizing the friction of integration, facilitating better command and adaptation to varying battlefield situations. The downside is... the requirements for equipment and personnel quality are relatively high."
To give every squad strong combat capability and adaptability for rapid joint maneuvers, each squad's equipment had to be top-tier across the board. That was an extraordinarily high cost. Fortunately, with the Whip of Order branches in each region sharing the burden now, that wasn't an issue.
Next was personnel quality. It required veterans and elites; otherwise, the system couldn't function. But that wasn't a problem either, since a large number of Whip of Order squads from opened spaces had been supplemented, all genuine elites.
Because each squad had limited complement, they maintained clear specialization to adapt to different missions—the more comprehensive, the better. This made disassembly and recombination during recruit training seamless.
Seen this way, Neo's training model was truly custom-tailored for the Whip of Order.
Just as Karen finished his inspection, he received a report that Head Bishop Bern had also arrived. The two met once again on the training grounds.
"Congratulations," Bern said with a smile.
"Haha." Karen nodded; in front of Bern, there was no need for false modesty.
"When do you depart?"
"Soon. As soon as the equipment is ready on that end, I'll head over."
"Mm. Be careful on the front lines."
"That doesn't sound like something you would say."
"It wasn't easy to see a rising star shoot up so quickly; I don't want to see him crash down into obscurity just yet."
"I will."
"You don't need to worry about matters back home. Go to the front with peace of mind."
"Does what you mean by that amount to: since the financial crisis is right in front of us, whether I'm home or not makes no difference anyway?"
"Your words, not mine."
"Then please keep pressing your son."
"Rest assured, I terrorize him daily."
"Heh." Karen couldn't help laughing. "There's really no need for that. You're getting up in years, and your health isn't good."
"I know what you mean. I'll arrange a marriage alliance for him, someone within the church. It's impossible for me to ever form an emotional bond with Derius again—I won't allow myself to do so. But a grandson or granddaughter might be a different story."
"I suggest you'd best not mention that idea in front of your son. I'm afraid he might be pushed far enough to fight you to the death."
"He won't. He's a coward to his bones. He'll agonize inside, but his actions will inevitably follow the tide. A man who could switch his faith is destined never to dare flip the table and go to extremes. In the future, just manipulate and pressure him however you like; don't give him room to breathe. The more breathing room he has, the more ideas he'll hatch."
"All right, understood."
As the two chatted and walked out of the barrier toward their respective cars, Bern suddenly spoke: "Karen, I'm quite looking forward to seeing just how far you can go."
"I don't know either."
"That won't do. Your goal must be clear."
"Perhaps I've moved too fast. So fast that right now I feel as if I'm straining to rock climb, and my footing is feeling less and less secure."
"If anyone else said that, I'd think they were bragging. But I know you aren't. Do you need some advice from me?"
"No need for that."
"No need?"
"When I get back, I'll just flip through the Code of Order a few more times."
Chapter 776