Chapter 400 - 148: Commanding Respect

Chapter 400: Chapter 148: Commanding Respect

"General? Did you hear me?"

Seeing that Robson wasn’t replying, Noon asked again.

Robson came back to his senses. He looked at the undisciplined troop before him and fell into deep thought.

’Where did Noon get the confidence to think this army is ready for the battlefield?’

Before the war broke out, most armies of the Frank Kingdom and the Beastman Empire might not have been much better than this one.

But the war had been raging for nearly a year and a half now. What troops, having survived a year-long war, weren’t the best of the best?

To put it bluntly, if this unit were sent to the front lines, they wouldn’t even qualify as cannon fodder.

"Noon, perhaps you don’t yet understand the situation on the battlefield.

This unit... probably doesn’t meet my standards," Robson said bluntly.

"Huh? My lord, these Soldiers are the best of the best!"

As he spoke, Noon even leaned closer to Robson’s ear.

"Let me tell you a secret. Many of these men have killed before.

They’re all expert street fighters!" Noon said.

Robson looked at Noon in astonishment.

’Good heavens,’ Robson thought. ’It’s a gathering of troublemakers. This is a bigger problem than I expected.’

’Street fighting, taking lives... aren’t they just a bunch of thugs?’

War is about large-scale formation combat. Discipline is paramount.

Vicious and aggressive men like these are actually the worst candidates for the army. They’re wild and refuse to be disciplined.

In the ancient times of Robson’s past life, armies typically recruited from "good families"—men with no criminal records and clean backgrounds.

’Tsk, it seems the Marquis sent men without checking their quality.’

Robson’s heart suddenly ached. These guys cost five Gold Coins each.

And that was just the purchase price. Not counting the cost of transporting the new army and other expenses, how many Gold Coins was that in total?

"Vicious and aggressive Soldiers can only display momentary courage.

War isn’t just a contest of hot-bloodedness. It’s a contest of discipline," Robson said.

"General, how can you know without even testing them?" Noon retorted.

Robson was so taken aback he laughed.

’These sons of great families are the most difficult to deal with.’

’How could he know? He, Robson, had been fighting from the beginning of last year until today. Who could possibly know better than him?’

Knight Noon had clearly been pampered by his family. He’d never faced any setbacks, so after just a couple of rebuttals from Robson, he was already having a stress reaction.

’It’s not that he can’t understand the reasoning. He just doesn’t want to admit defeat.’

If it were anyone else, Robson would have told them to get lost. Did he, Lord Robson, need someone else telling him how to manage his army?

But Knight Noon was a foreign Officer, and Robson wasn’t clear on his background.

What Robson did know was that Marquis Oscillate, at the very least, was aware of this matter.

He didn’t believe it was a coincidence that those few dozen privileged sons, sent for a bit of glory, just so happened to be assigned to his, Lord Robson’s, army.

"You don’t believe me?" Robson asked with a smile.

Robson didn’t immediately refute him, instead posing a question back.

This gave Knight Noon time to think. Recalling his earlier attitude, he realized he had been somewhat defiant.

"That’s not it, I just..."

"It’s fine. Since you don’t believe me, why don’t we put it to the test?" Robson asked.

"Huh? How?" Noon asked.

Robson pointed behind him, where several dozen of his soldiers were following.

These were the men Robson had brought with him, ready to take command of the new army.

"You pick one hundred men, then choose twenty from my men here."

"And if the men I choose win, we get to go to the battlefield?" Noon asked.

Robson smiled.

"Win? If any of the men you pick are still standing after ten minutes, I’ll count it as my loss," Robson said.

The men Robson had with him were not from the Extraordinary Team.

One could bring some Soldiers into the Royal Capital, but not Extraordinary Soldiers. The royal authority was not to be challenged.

Although they weren’t Extraordinary Soldiers, they were basically all sixth-rank Frankish Watchers, the elite of the elite.

Knight Noon stared blankly for a moment, carefully studying Robson’s expression. He didn’t seem to be joking.

"Alright! General, you can’t go back on your word.

If I win, I’m taking these men to the battlefield!" Noon said resolutely.

At that moment, a sharp glint shone in Noon’s eyes.

"It’s a deal."

...

’For someone like Knight Noon, who’s likely studied the art of war since childhood but has never seen a real battle, the best way to shatter the confidence of these second-generation nobles is to have a head-on confrontation, destroying their preconceived notions.’

’Forcibly suppressing him isn’t out of the question, but it would likely lead to trouble down the road.’

Eager to prove himself, Noon immediately began the process of selecting his men.

He sifted through the thousand-plus men, finally picking one hundred who were tall, brawny, and had fierce, fleshy faces.

As for Robson’s side, he deliberately chose the shortest and most feeble-looking men.

"General, I’ve made my selection. Don’t you regret it," Knight Noon said with a smile.

"I’ll say it again: a deal’s a deal!

But if you lose, you’ll have to follow my orders obediently from now on," Robson replied.

Noon was taken aback. After a moment of thought, he returned to the group of brawny men he had chosen and discussed some tactics with them.

"Alright, then! If I lose, I’ll follow your orders on the battlefield!"

Seeming a little embarrassed, Noon added.

"General, aren’t you going to give your Soldiers some instructions?

Let us broaden our horizons and see just how the ever-victorious Kingdom Warlord commands his army."

As his voice carried, Robson’s Soldiers all turned to look at their commander.

They didn’t have much experience fighting their own kind and weren’t sure how much force to use.

Robson glanced around and softly spoke three words.

"Do not retreat."

Hearing the command, the Soldiers turned back, their sharp gazes fixed on the enemy before them.

Noon clicked his tongue, thinking Robson wasn’t appreciating his gesture.

"Then let’s begin."

...

To prevent Noon from complaining later, Robson chose not to interfere with the fight. After giving his brief order, he simply stood back and watched Noon’s maneuvers.

At Noon’s command, the match officially began.

Robson’s soldiers formed a simple single line. The brawny men on the other side, however, were a flashy mess, charging forward in a formation Robson couldn’t comprehend, baring their teeth and yelling chaotically.

Robson glanced at Noon, who was still full of confidence, as if victory were already in his grasp.

One of the brawny men charged out. He was nearly two meters tall and incredibly muscular, rushing straight for the single-line formation.

On a real battlefield, if a man like that wasn’t Extraordinary, his large size would make him an easy target. Robson’s Watchers would have already picked him off. Even if he made it to close range, he’d be cut down in two or three strikes.

But this wasn’t a battlefield; it was a brawl.

The giant charged up to the line, but the soldiers in the formation strictly adhered to their orders, acting as if they didn’t even see him.

The giant tackled one of the soldiers to the ground.

"Beautiful!" Noon couldn’t help but exclaim, shooting a provocative glance at Robson.

Robson just smiled.

"ARGH!"

Confused, Noon heard a cry of pain. He turned his head to see the giant, who had been lifted clean over a soldier’s head and thrown into the onrushing crowd.

Seeing the giant’s plight, the crowd, which had been in high spirits, suddenly hesitated for a moment.

"Advance!"

Just then, a voice called out from within the line formation.

Immediately, the soldiers broke into pairs and charged toward the crowd ahead.

In no time, the air was filled with flying Algerian soldiers, and two or three of the Peasants on the ground were knocked down on the spot.

The moment Robson’s soldiers made their move, the men Noon had picked began to scatter and dodge.

When faced with an attack from Noon’s men, Robson’s soldiers didn’t even bat an eye. Even with a fist about to hit them, they remained focused on the enemy in front of them.

The fight didn’t last long. The men Noon had chosen were either fleeing or lying on the ground.

"One minute. I thought they could finish the fight in under thirty seconds.

Well, Noon? What do you think?" Robson said with a smile.

Knight Noon was dumbfounded, unable to believe what he was seeing.

"This! How is this possible?

It would take ten minutes just to catch a hundred pigs!

Is it because this isn’t a life-or-death battle?" Knight Noon exclaimed.

"Pigs don’t flee in organized routs.

In fact, if this were a life-or-death battle, these men would never have had the chance to engage my army in close combat.

By the time they closed to within two hundred paces, most of them would have already run away."

"What, are you thinking of going back on your word?" Robson asked with a smile.

"If I follow you, can I learn discipline?"

To Robson’s surprise, Noon wasn’t angry at all. Instead, his eyes shone with excitement as he looked at Robson expectantly.

"That’s up to you. So, Knight, whose method is better for managing an army?" Robson asked with a grin.

Noon didn’t answer. He simply placed a hand over his chest.

’Is this a Frank Kingdom military salute?’

"General, please forgive my previous ignorance. Allow me to reintroduce myself.

My name is Noon. Noon Kantlis."

Kantlis. From the Cantelis City State of the city-state era, one of the Twelve Golden Families of the First Empire.

They were also great nobles during the Second Empire. In the era of the Third Empire, they even participated in the formation of the Dragon Knight Order. Because they received a blessing from the Pope, they are also known as a Divine Favor Clan.

Today, House Kantlis is one of the six ruling Silver Clans in the Senate of the Algeria Kingdom, and its patriarch holds the title of Duke.

Robson’s expression didn’t change, but inwardly, he sucked in a sharp breath of cold air.

’A truly distinguished and noble house that has persisted throughout the history of the Human Race.’