The Loen soldiers stationed on the border, apart from their daily training and patrols, spent the vast majority of their time sleeping, in taverns, and in the beds of women.
To be honest, the Kingdom of Loen was not harsh on its border garrison soldiers. Many children from ordinary families, as long as they met the conditions, would be sent into the army by their families.
This was not only because the state funded the upbringing of these soldiers, but also because if they died in battle, the state would also give the fallen soldier's family a sum of compensation.
Even if this compensation was not generous, perhaps only a week's worth of food for a family of three, it could still give many families a bit of respite, so they didn't have to constantly keep that string in their minds taut...
But there were those who couldn't even feed themselves, yet persistently gave birth to children. It was helpless, pitiful, yet realistic.
If one performed meritorious service on the battlefield and gained honors, becoming a knight of honor and receiving a title, this was also one of the few ways for these ordinary lower-class soldiers to cross social classes, where one person's success could elevate their entire family.
As long as one person received a knighthood, the entire family would be enough to cross a certain social stratum, no longer living like corpses, at least having some semblance of being human.
But such people were few and far between.
There were many people in the army who wanted to climb the ranks, but ordinary people were just ordinary people. Without background, opportunity, or extraordinary ability, in an army with strict internal class divisions, power flowed to power, wealth flowed to wealth. The various privileges that Loen nobles naturally enjoyed, which ordinary people could hardly reach, meant that without outstanding talent, the nobles still firmly controlled these channels, limiting the possibility of upward mobility for the vast majority of people.
Those who remained were mediocre, perhaps one day leaving the army because they couldn't lift their swords and guns anymore. But many more wouldn't even make it to that day, dying in some conflict or assassination, their bodies settled in border churches, never returning to their hometowns.
Fort Saga, as Loen's frontline fortress in the Orkney Highlands, had the most taverns, inns, and various shops selling food and cloth, in addition to military buildings.
Soldiers would send a portion of their savings back to their families in their distant hometowns through the state, and the rest would be spent in these places.
After all, no one knew which would come first, the future or tomorrow.
Inside Fort Saga, a relatively remote tavern.
The tavern was one of the favorite spots for many Loen soldiers, bards, passing merchants, and night ladies. Cheap liquor numbed people's nerves, and through brief pleasures, they could also temporarily forget the unhappy things of daily life.
Excessive pressure, yet no way to relieve it, easily led to the lower classes exploding completely at some point. Small-scale brawls were not uncommon in Fort Saga. As long as there were no overly serious consequences, the military high-ups wouldn't care.
And this remote tavern was also one of the many in Fort Saga that was cheap and catered to the lower-ranking soldiers.
Here, the smell of foot odor and sweat mingled with the smell of alcohol and some indescribable things, forming a unique aroma in the not-so-large, unventilated tavern.
Amidst the clinking of cups, men in longswords and armor laughed and joked with each other, bards and merchants drank and made merry together, and some ladies occasionally moved among the tables, playfully offering the special liquor of this region, occasionally being invited by drunken men to spend the night on the second floor of the tavern.
Among them, a man in the corner with solid, knotted muscles, short black hair, and brown eyes, bronze skin, tall stature, and carrying a broadsword on his back, stood out particularly.
"Hey, Lamdre, if you keep refusing like this, you'll really break that young lady's heart."
A companion beside him picked up a jug of wine, laughing as he took a big gulp.
"Be careful that young lady really runs off with someone, and then you won't even have a place to cry." Someone teased.
Having ability, decent looks, and being appreciated by superiors, in a border area with not much entertainment, would more or less attract the attention of the military and some forces stationed behind Fort Saga.
The appearance of such a person, although not attracting universal attention, was still a one-in-a-hundred talent.
There was no lack of discerning people in the Loen military forces, and other soldiers were also happy to befriend such people, after all, having one more friend was much better than having one more enemy.
Moreover, there might also be a chance to catch a ride on their coattails. Such things had more advantages than disadvantages, and no one would be foolish enough to offend them.
"Look, Miss Liliana is here to find you again."
Following the not-so-pure gazes of a group of drunken soldiers, Owen looked towards the tavern door. A woman in a linen dress, with beautiful long hair pulled up, excessively pure and excessively beautiful, was standing outside the door, looking at him shyly and timidly.
In the chaotic tavern, she was like a butterfly falling into the ocean, making it difficult to suppress the desires in one's heart.
Such an appearance, in this place, was quite dangerous.
The surrounding soldiers made a commotion, signaling Owen to hurry forward, but Owen only felt a headache.
"Honestly, if you catch Colonel Bernstein's eye, the path you want to take will be much smoother. After all, the number of promotions is limited, isn't it, Lamdre?" Someone beside him kindly advised him. Owen frowned, just about to say something, when he felt his spirit thread move.
Owen: ??
Master of Marionettes?
In this kind of place, encountering a Sequence Five powerhouse of the Seer pathway?
He subconsciously became alert, feeling that this might be a test from the military, or that his enemies wanted to get rid of him... Feeling his spirit thread being grabbed, his body about to stiffen and be controlled—damn it, he hadn't brought out that demigod-level armor today!
But after a while, he didn't feel himself being marionetted... Wait, this feeling, this casual attempt to tie a dead knot in his spirit thread, to be honest, he wasn't unfamiliar with it...
Owen's mouth twitched. He stood up and walked outside.
Ignoring the jeering and laughter behind him, he walked out of the tavern. His overly tall stature always gave people a sense of oppression, but the girl in front of him raised her head, her eyes sparkling with brilliant light, seemingly focusing all her attention on the man in front of her, without showing any timidity or fear.
"Too beautiful..." Owen sighed silently in his heart.
Then, with a righteous and stern expression, he communicated with the few bodyguards who had followed behind the girl.
"Miss Bernstein, you should go back. Staying here so late will worry your father."
Owen: She's so beautiful...
Tang: Haha, dying of laughter.
(End of this chapter)