Chapter 40: The Talkative Nobleman and the Downtrodden Me

One whole sausage, some thoroughly simmered potatoes in the softened black bread, and finally, a cup of the still-awful coffee.

“This is good!”

Morin finally felt alive.

But the subtle unease in his heart never fully dissipated.

He wiped his mouth and found Platoon Sergeant Klaus and his orderly Hans. “Come on, let’s go somewhere.”

Morin took the two men, borrowed three bicycles from the Baggage Train, and rode straight toward the city’s only large cathedral. That was the highest point in the entire city. He planned to climb the bell tower to see the situation outside the city with his own eyes.

The cathedral had been untouched by the previous fighting, appearing solemn and dignified. After explaining his purpose to a nervous-looking priest at the door, the priest, who spoke Saxon (German), hesitated but led them to the staircase beneath the bell tower.

“Klaus, Hans, you two talk to the priest. Find out the general situation in the city and see if there’s anything unusual.”

Morin gave the instruction and ascended the spiral staircase leading to the top of the bell tower alone. The stairs were narrow, steep, and dimly lit.

When he pushed open the small door to the top floor, he found someone was already there: Lieutenant Colonel Ludwig of the Teutonic Knights, and another Armored Knight pilot he didn’t recognize. Ludwig was holding binoculars, seemingly observing the activity outside the city.

Seeing Morin arrive, Ludwig lowered his binoculars and said something to his companion. The pilot named Wilhelm gave Morin a surprised look, then nodded and went down the stairs.

Only Morin and Ludwig remained at the top of the bell tower. Morin said nothing, saluted Ludwig, and then walked to the wooden railing, raising his own binoculars toward the northeast of Seville. In this era without skyscrapers, the cathedral bell tower, as the highest point, offered an unparalleled view. The plain, woods, and roads outside the city were clearly visible. However, he saw no sign of a large-scale Royal Army assembly; everything was too calm.

“Their retreat was orderly, with no signs of panic,” Ludwig’s voice sounded next to him. “It wasn’t a rout; it was more like clenching a fist, preparing to deliver a heavier blow… Your concern is indeed valid.”

Morin lowered his binoculars and turned to look at him. Ludwig was also looking at him, his gaze filled with scrutiny and curiosity.

“Honestly, I find it very difficult to connect the Morin I see now with the one I saw at the Stuttgart wine party.”

Hearing this, Morin was startled.

Is this another acquaintance?

“You seem surprised?” Seeing Morin’s unfamiliar look, Ludwig smiled. “It’s not surprising. After all, you were always circling the noble ladies at the parties and wouldn’t have paid attention to me.”

“My apologies then, Lieutenant Colonel Ludwig. I’ll be sure to notice you more next time.”

“…” Ludwig was genuinely caught off guard by Morin’s reply. He swallowed the words he had planned to say, but still scrutinized Morin before continuing: “However, I simply cannot understand how a person like that could display such a brave and sharp mind on the battlefield.”

Was he probing my background? Or was he genuinely curious?

Morin’s mind raced, but he found he had no explanation to offer. Although he had recalled many fragments of the original owner’s past, there were still many blanks. He chose the safest course of action: silence is golden.

Ludwig didn’t seem to expect an answer anyway. He leaned on the railing and, like a chatterbox, began speaking on his own. “But this is for the best. The Empire’s army needs brave men like you, not useless talkers who only thrive at social functions.”

“Ah, and what about Lady Cecilia? I wonder what her reaction will be when she sees the man you’ve become now.”

“I heard she sent a telegram directly to General Mackensen’s command post, which enraged the old General…” He rambled on, completely unconcerned whether Morin responded.

Morin was surprised that Lieutenant Colonel Ludwig knew so much. He didn’t interrupt, listening quietly and committing every piece of information about the original owner to memory. Most importantly, he now knew the ‘noblewoman’ who sent the telegram was a Lady Cecilia, though their relationship remained unclear.

“Oh, right. It seems my arrogant sister was wrong about you this time.”

“You have a sister?”

“…” Ludwig’s expression flickered momentarily before settling down. “It seems Second Lieutenant Morin got over the rejection quickly; I didn’t think you would forget Patrizia so soon.” Hearing the name Patrizia, a blurred image of a blonde girl flashed through Morin’s mind. As Ludwig said, she seemed to have some connection to him.

However, Ludwig didn’t dwell on the topic, quickly moving on to other subjects. Morin confirmed that the noble pilot was indeed a chatterbox. The two stayed in the bell tower for a long time, only leaving after confirming that there was genuinely no unusual activity outside the city.

When Morin returned to the unit’s position on the city’s edge, he found the scene had transformed. The residents of Seville, after confirming that the National Army and their allies had entered the city, began emerging from their homes. It was clear that the National Army and the International Brigades had a good reputation among the public in the Kingdom of Aragon, at least in Seville.

The enthusiastic citizens spontaneously brought out what little bread, cheese, and wine they had to reward the soldiers who had ‘liberated’ them from the Royal Army’s rule. By association, the Saxon Empire’s ‘allies’ also benefited from the goodwill.

The National Army and International Brigades soldiers humbly accepted the food offered by the citizens, their faces beaming with genuine smiles. The entire square was filled with laughter and a peaceful, joyous atmosphere.

However, the Saxon soldiers remained somewhat wary. After all, this was a foreign country to them, and the Royal Army soldiers they had just fought were essentially made up of Aragon civilians. Morin understood their reaction. In his previous life’s military history classes, he had learned that after the German invasion of Belgium in WWI, the German troops grew paranoid due to attacks by guerrillas and some Belgian citizens. Coupled with the pressure from early war losses, some German units resorted to attacking civilians and breaking military discipline upon entering towns.

Just as Morin was considering whether he needed to reinforce discipline in his unit to prevent a similar incident, his fears were realized.

A sudden commotion erupted down a nearby street. Civilians screamed and scattered, and soldiers converged on the area. When Morin arrived at the scene, he felt that some kind of cosmic irony must be following him.

Why did what he fear most always happen?

He saw several Saxon Empire soldiers standing at the entrance of a residence, pointing their rifles at a crowd of surrounding National Army and International Brigades soldiers. They had cheese and smoked meat strung on ropes across their bodies, clearly having just scavenged them from the residence…

(End of Chapter 40)