Chapter 40: The Talkative Aristocrat and My Wretched Self

A sausage downed with softened black bread, followed by a generous portion of thoroughly stewed and flavorful potatoes, and finally, a cup of equally unpalatable coffee.

"Ah, splendid."

Morin finally felt like he was truly alive.

Yet, the faint unease in his heart never quite dissipated.

He wiped his mouth and found Sergeant Claus and his own orderly, Hans.

"Come with me."

......

Accompanied by the two men, Morin borrowed three bicycles from the quartermaster corps and rode straight toward the city's only grand cathedral.

It was also the highest vantage point in the entire city.

He intended to climb the bell tower and witness the situation outside the city with his own eyes.

The cathedral had escaped damage during the earlier battles, appearing solemn and majestic.

After explaining their purpose to a visibly nervous priest at the entrance, the priest, who spoke Saxon, hesitated for a moment before leading them to the foot of the bell tower's stairs.

"Claus, Hans, chat with this priest, get a general sense of the situation in the city, and see if there are any anomalies."

With that instruction, Morin stepped alone onto the spiral staircase leading to the top of the bell tower.

The stairs were narrow, steep, and dim.

When he pushed open the small door leading to the top floor, he discovered someone was already there.

Lieutenant Ludwig of the Teuton Knights, along with another armored knight pilot he did not recognize.

The former was holding a pair of binoculars, apparently also observing the movement outside the city.

Seeing Morin come up, Ludwig lowered his binoculars and said something to his companion.

The pilot, named William, cast a somewhat surprised glance at Morin, then nodded and turned to head down the stairs.

At the top of the bell tower, only Morin and Ludwig remained.

Morin remained silent, saluted Ludwig, and walked over to the wooden railing, raising his own binoculars to gaze toward the northeastern direction of the city of Sevilla.

Cities of this era lacked skyscrapers, and the cathedral bell tower, serving as the highest vantage point, offered an incomparably expansive view.

The plains, woods, and roads outside the city were clearly laid out before his eyes.

Yet, he saw no signs of a large-scale concentration of the Royal Army; everything appeared far too tranquil.

"Their retreat is very orderly, without any signs of chaos."

Ludwig's voice sounded from beside him.

"It doesn't look like a rout, but rather like clenching a fist, preparing to deliver a heavier blow... Your worries are indeed justified."

Morin lowered his binoculars and turned to look at him.

Ludwig was also looking at him, a gaze tinged with inquiry and curiosity.

"To be honest, I really find it hard to connect the Morin of today with the Morin I saw at the reception in Stuttgart."

Hearing this, Morin was slightly taken aback.

Was this another acquaintance?

"You seem surprised?"

Seeing Morin's unfamiliar expression, Ludwig smiled.

"Not surprising, really, considering you spent the entire reception mingling among various noble young ladies rather than paying any attention to me."

"My apologies then, Lieutenant Ludwig. Next time, I will certainly pay more attention to you."

"..."

Ludwig genuinely had not expected Morin to reply in such a manner, swallowing back a bellyful of words, but he still stared closely at Morin and continued:

"Still, I simply cannot understand how someone like that could display such bravery and sharpness on the battlefield."

Is he probing my background? Or is it mere curiosity?

Morin's brain raced, yet he realized he had no way to explain.

Although he had gradually recalled quite a bit of the original body owner's past, vast blanks remained in his memory.

Thus, he chose the safest course of action—silence is golden.

Ludwig did not seem to expect an answer either. He leaned against the railing and, acting much like a chatterbox, began to speak on his own.

"Well, no matter. The Empire's army needs warriors like you, not useless wastrels who only know how to boast at banquets..."

"Oh, and Lady Cecilia. I wonder what her reaction will be when she learns you've transformed into someone like this~"

"I heard she sent a telegram directly to General Mackensen's headquarters, flying the old general into a furious rage..."

He chattered on, completely indifferent to whether Morin responded or not.

Morin, meanwhile, was astonished by how much Lieutenant Ludwig seemed to know.

Yet, he refrained from conversing, simply listening quietly beside him and engraving every piece of information about the original owner into his heart.

The most crucial piece was learning that the 'noble lady' who sent the telegram was named Cecilia, though the exact relationship between the original owner and this lady remained unclear for now.

"By the way, it seems my rather self-important sister misjudged things this time around as well."

"You have a sister?"

"..."

The expression on Ludwig's face shifted rapidly for a moment before finally settling into calmness.

"It seems Second Lieutenant Morin has recovered rather quickly from the shadow of being rejected on the spot. I didn't expect you to forget Patricia so soon."

At the mention of Patricia's name, a vague shadow of a blonde-haired maiden flashed through Morin's mind. True to Ludwig's words, she seemed to have had some connection to him.

However, Ludwig did not dwell on the topic, quickly steering their conversation to other matters, which led Morin to realize that this noble pilot was quite the chatterbox.

The two lingered on the bell tower for a long time, only leaving one after the other once they confirmed there were truly no unusual movements outside the city.

When Morin returned to the peripheral district where his unit was stationed, he found that the scene here had changed drastically.

The residents of Sevilla, having confirmed that those entering the city were the National Army and their allies, emerged from their homes in droves.

It was evident that the National Army and the International Brigades enjoyed a remarkably favorable reputation among the common folk of the Kingdom of Aragon.

At least in Sevilla, that was the case.

Enthusiastic citizens spontaneously brought out the modest amounts of bread, cheese, and wine they had at home to reward the soldiers who had 'liberated' them from the rule of the Royal Army.

By extension, these 'allies' from the Saxon Empire also shared in the bounty.

The soldiers of the National Army and International Brigades accepted the food handed to them by the citizens with a touch of shyness, their faces beaming with simple smiles. The entire square was filled with laughter and cheers, bathed in a peaceful and joyous atmosphere.

The Saxon soldiers, however, remained somewhat guarded. After all, to them, this was a foreign country, and the Royal Army soldiers they had fought against earlier were essentially composed of the common citizens of the Kingdom of Aragon.

Thus, Morin fully understood their reaction. In the military history classes of his past life, he had read about how the German army during World War I fell into a state of extreme paranoia due to attacks by partisans and some Belgian civilians.

Combined with the pressure from several defeats at the beginning of the war, some German units resorted to attacking civilians and violating military discipline upon entering towns.

Just as Morin was pondering whether he should pay attention to maintaining troop discipline to prevent similar incidents, the very thing he feared finally happened.

A commotion suddenly erupted in a distant street; civilians fled with screams, while soldiers began to gather around the area.

Upon rushing to the scene, Morin felt convinced that some metaphysical curse must be lingering around him.

Otherwise, why else would his worst fears immediately materialize?

Several Saxon Empire soldiers stood at the doorway of a residential house, raising their rifles in a standoff with the surrounding National Army and International Brigade soldiers.

Draped over their bodies were strings of cheese and cured meat, evidently scavenged just moments before from this very dwelling......