The fast and urgent Principality language came from the front, and the loud curses stung his ears. Looking at the two groups of people who were about to engage in in-depth fighting exchanges, Parsifal sighed, turned around and asked:
"Do we often encounter this kind of 'little trouble' here?"
"That's pretty much it. Sometimes there's no words in the scene. After all, the folk customs here are not about adhering to the law and discipline. If there is anything, call the police or lawyers."
Murat replied with a wry smile.
In fact, the orcs are not as backward and barbaric as intuitive images and legends say, otherwise they would not have established a country that can compete with the human camp for thousands of years. However, the beast factor in the blood of the orcs is too strong. Not only is this
This is reflected in their appearance and physical fitness, as well as their intense personalities with strong emotions and joys.
At best, he is bold and straightforward. At worst, he likes to solve problems with his fists and knives instead of his mind. He is the type who can't open doors and doesn't like to find keys, but prefers axes.
For a group of villagers who move their fists faster than their brains, it is only natural that they make full use of surrounding resources to improve their lives when life is difficult. As for whether robbing the army violates royal law, that is not a matter of concern to the villagers.
"20 poods of sugar! 10 poods of tea! 30 poods of vodka! Don't even think about anything less!"
"Asshole! This is the asset of His Majesty's army! Do you want to rebel?!"
"Who cares about you! Don't even think about passing by if you don't leave anything behind!"
"That is, all the men have gone to serve as soldiers, and the elderly and children at home are too hungry to move. It is impossible to survive this day! Even if the 'little daddy' comes in person, we still have to give us a way to survive!"
"Yeah yeah!!"
The villagers waved their weapons and shouted together. The Centurion Babayev who led the team blushed and remained silent for a long time.
Although he had hundreds of soldiers and more than a dozen Behemoths under his command, it seemed that it would not be difficult to break through the defense line composed of dozens of villagers, but he did not do that.
It wasn't that the centurion had a conscience and couldn't bear the villagers to die at the feet of the giant beast, but that he couldn't do it.
Looking at the left and right sides, you can see sharp wooden piles protruding from the swamp everywhere. These things are there. Not to mention the detour will be a waste of time. No one can guarantee that there are no invisible hidden piles buried in the detoured place. Once you carry ten
Behemoth carrying multi-ton cargo stepped on a hidden pile and was either unable to move or died. In this season of mud, losing a heavyweight beast of burden is unbearable for anyone.
Rushing over from the front? This is not a wise decision. Look at those grinning aunts. Look at them on their shoulders and in their arms. They are 8 meters thicker than Centurion.
A long log... Anyone can foresee the outcome of an armed conflict.
"'The strongest combat power of the father-in-law is the aunt'... right?"
"Oh? You've read it."
"Please don't underestimate the juniors who originally volunteered to be librarians. No matter what, until the notice of registration comes from the logistics department, I will just do that and earn a stable salary."
"Turns out to be a salary thief volunteer."
"Please call me a clerical worker."
Closing the booklet with a snap, Parsifal stood up.
"I'll leave for a moment. I'll leave it to you, senior, to keep an eye on me."
"……where are you going?"
"Before the materials are officially signed and handed over to the government of Brest Fortress, all goods are managed under the Logistics Department Headquarters. Currently, I am the only on-site person in charge of the Logistics Department Headquarters, and I have the responsibility and obligation to ensure the safety of the goods.
"
Subconsciously, he stretched his hand to the top of his head, but failed to grasp the brim of the hat. Then he remembered that he was wearing a Cossack-style tall leather hat, not a military cap of the defense army. In his panic, he happened to catch Murat's eyes looking at rare animals.
, Parsifal's face turned red instantly.
"What...what happened?"
Pfft——
Murat covered his mouth and arched his back, trying desperately to keep his voice from leaking out. As a result, his body was shaking non-stop, making people think that this guy was suffering from epilepsy and might just lie down and be unable to get up.
Until finally the saliva flowed into the trachea, and after a violent cough, the young captain stopped.
"Ah, Parsifal."
"yes."
"You should be very aware of the fighting power of those aunts?"
"If it's the part in the book, it should be...but looking at the scene, it feels like it's even more exaggerated than the written record."
"Yes, they are that strong. If we calculate their combat effectiveness based on physical strength alone, it would be around 200. So, Parsifal, can you estimate what your own combat effectiveness is under the same conditions?"
"6...or 5."
Elves have never been a race known for their physical strength. Even if there is an outlier like Lieutenant General Thor, after years of promoting national fitness sports, the overall level is only the same as that of humans. Parsifal's body has always been in the military academy.
Those at the bottom of the list have lacked exercise since entering the logistics department, and their physical fitness may be even worse than before.
Compared with the aunts who pull up big trees with their bare hands, break big rocks with their bare hands, and use logs thicker than furry bears as sticks, Parsifal, who has a combat power of only 5 at most, is afraid of being deceived by someone with just a slight push.
God called me by grace.
"It doesn't matter whether their combat power is different or not. What's more - do you think they seem to be able to communicate easily?"
Murat curled his lips, and a flurry of expletives came flying over him. His faces were filled with words such as "Come on, fight until it hurts", "One shot goes to the soul", "Coach, I want to hit 10". The aunts danced around the logs.
The wind must be blown.
"No problem. Negotiation is also part of the logistics department's business. Whether it's complaining or scolding, we have long been used to it."
Swallowing his saliva, Parsifal responded decisively.
Even I couldn't believe these words, but I just blurted it out.
Because, that's all I can say.
Unlike Roland, Caspar, and Tristan, they are the type who act for their ideals. Parsifal has been an inconspicuous existence since the military academy. He just wants to do his best to complete the work assigned to him and spend every day in an ordinary way.
Apart from this, there is nothing that can be called lofty ambitions and goals.
Because of this, he felt that he could not escape from his responsibility.
That's right, it's just a sense of responsibility.
"——Maybe, a guy like you can be admired by others."
Facing Parsifal's back, Murat muttered strange words.
The closer I got to the front, the heavier my anxiety became, and my clenched fists couldn't help but tremble slightly.
(Ah, I actually said that, but I said it so confidently...)
Enduring the bursts of pain in his temples, Parsifal asked himself. (To be continued...)