Chapter 281 The Chosen Pope
After simply cleaning up the battlefield, Horn did not lead the Salvation Army to Jeanne d'Arc immediately, but stayed temporarily in a nearby noble manor.

After bandaging his wounds and settling the injured and dead war monks, Horn was finally able to rest.

After quickly taking two bites of bread and hot soup, he could no longer resist the deep sleepiness and fell headfirst into the bed, sleeping until almost noon the next day.

However, after waking up, Horn was surprised to find that he was unable to get out of bed due to muscle aches and a broken thigh.

In desperation, they could only call Jeanne, who carried Horn in her arms like a princess, put him in a wheelchair, and pushed him out.

"Jeanne, you are so quiet today."

Jeanne murmured a few words in a mosquito-like voice. Horn did not hear clearly, but he could roughly guess what they were.

He did not respond, but suddenly asked: "Jeanna, who do you think will be faster in a wheelchair sprint race between me and Shilov?"

"Ah?" Jeanna was stunned at first, then she tapped Horn's shoulder lightly in an angry tone, "Why do you always ask such disrespectful questions?"

"You laughed yourself, and you still blamed me."

"I don't!"

"You are obviously laughing now,"

The two of them joked for a while before Horn changed the subject: "I know what you're thinking, but the soldiers who died in the battle were not your fault. The fault is that we are too weak, and the fault is that the world is unreasonable."

"..."

“There is always death in war, and you and I must face it and remember it.”

"Hmph, I'll remember this." Jeanna snorted, "One day, I'll drive all those nobles out, and the people of Qianhe Valley will never have to go to the battlefield again."

"It will happen." Turning to face forward, Horn leaned on the back of his wheelchair and shouted, "Armand!"

As soon as Horn shouted, he felt a dull pain in the wound on his brow bone caused by the pulled muscles.

"Your Majesty, I am here."

"How much did we lose in this battle?"

The misty sunlight hovered in the dark corridor, and Horn's wheelchair rolled over the dusty ground.

"About 895 people were killed in the battle, more than 400 were seriously injured, and more than 1100 were slightly injured. Almost everyone was injured."

"So many?" Although he had expected it, Horn still felt heavy in his heart when he heard the number.

Having lived and eaten together for three months, Horn had become quite familiar with these good guys. It was no wonder that he was sad about the sudden loss of several of their relatives and friends.

Sensing Horn's slightly depressed mood, Armand quickly added: "But we have seized 788 war horses, 320 sets of knight's full body armor, 277 sets of ordinary breastplates, 489 sets of chain mail and leather armor, weapons such as armed swords, spears, maces, and other supplies, etc., and the statistics are still being counted."

After hearing Armand's words, Horn felt a little more encouraged. He knew that as the Pope, he was the one who could not be depressed.

With these weapons, the territory and resources of Jeanne d'Arc, at least they won't lose so many people next time.

These war monks died in the best years of their lives.

The average age of the war monks was less than 30 years old. It was this group of young people who defeated Leia's most powerful force - the Command Company.

Not to mention a farmer defeating the Imperial Order Company, even an example of a farmer defeating an Extraordinary Knight is extremely rare.

But the Savior Army did it. This was the first time in the history of Thousand River Valley, but not the last.

After getting rid of the depression in his heart, Horn calmed down and continued to ask, "How are the legion commanders doing?"

"Victor, the leader of the Black Hats, had his neck broken. He had three breathing techniques, and he was saved with the help of potions and the blessing of the forced monks. He is not paralyzed, but just needs to rest.

Coleman, the commander of the Second Black Hat Army, had his right foot amputated below the ankle.

The commander of the Black Hat Army, Rudilo, was shot in the skull by a crossbow arrow. He was rescued, but the arrowhead remained in his brain.

The commander of the Second Guards Army, Meng Seqingchuang, howled all night and just woke up.

The head of the Black Hat Army's third army commander, Woolley, has only been found. The Black Hat Army's fifth army commander, Chuck, had his sternum crushed by a horse's hoof and died of his injuries. The Black Hat Army's sixth army commander, Colton, had his heart pierced by a knight of the Imperial Order and died.

Of the eight legion commanders of the Salvation Army, three died and four were seriously injured in the battle. Only Das was slightly injured because he was commanding a gun-carrying team.

Even Horn had to use a wheelchair because of a broken right leg.

Horn was pushed to the dining table in a wheelchair, passing through the admiring and fanatical gazes of the war monks.

The four sick legion commanders, who were in strange shapes, sat at the dining table, looking at Horn sitting in a wheelchair and smiling bitterly at each other.

They are now stationed in Fort Joan of Arc. Those who know understand that they have won the battle, while those who don't think they have lost.

"The military judge should write a report as soon as possible, record the war history, and prepare for the recruitment and compensation matters." Horn picked up the bread on the table and gave instructions to Armand while eating.

Turning his head, he looked at the dusty-faced legion commander and the war monks in front of him, and couldn't help laughing: "When we enter the city this afternoon, let everyone wash their heads and faces. We must enter the city with our heads held high."

…………On the sticky wet grass after the rain, a knight's sword shining with bright silver luster was stuck in the mud.

Bernardo bent down, stretched out his hand, tensed his muscles, and pulled out the knight's sword, but he was disappointed to find that only half of the sword was left.

Looking at the precious sword decorated with gold, jade and gems in his hand, Bernardo recognized that it was Bogliano's.

After staring blankly for a few seconds, he shook his head and threw the luxurious sword into the rattan basket behind him.

Carrying a wicker basket on his back, Bernardo walked laboriously on the muddy ground, surrounded by crusaders wielding shovels and digging the soil.

They were ordered to bury the bodies on the spot to prevent the spread of plague.

The fresh sunlight filtered through the leaves, turning the brown ground into a reddish brown.

Bushes, grass, rocks... there was blood everywhere.

The smell of mud and blood mixed together in the evaporation of water vapor, giving Bernardo a headache.

Broken armed swords were inserted into a fence on the roadside, and broken limbs were hung on the tattered red and white round shields, supported by a few human bones, swaying in the moist spring breeze.

After passing these bloody scenes, Bernardo joined up with other Crusader companions and dumped the broken weapons, which were still in good condition, into the carriage.

Bundles of spears, armor pieces and arrows lay quietly in the cart and slowly moved away under the control of the coachman.

"Bernardo, it's a good thing you're here. Our account books are wrong again. Three dinars are missing and we can't find them."

Before Bernardo could say anything, a strong man grabbed him by the neck and dragged him towards the tent.

"Didn't they send in a new accountant? How come there was another mistake?" Bernardo asked helplessly, wiping his muddy hands on his body.

The sturdy man stepped forward carelessly: "It was the new accountant's fault. Who can fix it? By the way, aren't you a groom? How come you are so good at arithmetic?"

"I wanted to be an accountant," Bernardo replied calmly, "but unfortunately, I only studied with an old accountant for two days before my father died of illness. I had to work as a groom."

"Tsk tsk tsk, it's okay. I heard that His Majesty is in great need of accounting talents and has specially opened a crash course in arithmetic. If you go and join it, it will definitely be better than being a groom."

"how about you?"

"I'm going to join the army. The priest of the Holy Fathers said that new recruits will be recruited from the original crusaders." The sturdy man tapped his chest, "I, Lefebvre, will become a marshal sooner or later."

Listening to Le Fay's sweaty bragging, Bernardo couldn't help but look not far away.

Since the morning, villagers from nearby areas have been arriving one after another.

They were wearing short clothes and stood at the edge of the battlefield, not daring to get close, just standing on the hillside and looking out.

But as time went by, they got closer and closer to the battlefield, and the Crusaders did not stop them. After all, most of the valuable things had been picked up.

Noticing that Bernardo's attention had been diverted, Le Fay looked in the direction he was looking at and laughed roughly: "Believe it or not, the first reaction would definitely be vomiting."

Before Le Fei finished speaking, several villagers who were close to the battlefield began to vomit violently while holding onto the trees nearby.

"Here."

After wiping their mouths, the villagers did not leave, but walked towards the pile of knights' corpses step by step.

They continued to identify the corpses, and when they recognized a familiar knight's body, they immediately burst into tears, as if they wanted to cry out all the grievances they had suffered before.

The priests of the Holy Fathers limped over to try to persuade the knight, but before they could even say a few words, they jumped up, their eyes red, and swung their fists wildly at the knight.

The villagers would not stop until the men were beaten beyond recognition and their fists were pierced by bone fragments.

The priests approached them gently and led them to one side, under a shed that had been set up long ago. Groups of villagers came to ask about the course and outcome of the battle.

The friars of the Order of the Holy Fathers kept repeating it over and over again, but they still couldn't get enough, until someone shouted:

"It's the Holy Grandson! The Pope, the Pope is here!"

At the end of the road, the Salvation Army and Sun flags appeared in everyone's sight.

The villagers present immediately abandoned the preaching Holy Fathers monks and rushed towards the marching Salvation Army.

Bernardo swore that he had never seen a Pope so popular with the people in his life.

They were so enthusiastic that they raised their hands crazily, kept shouting Horn's name, jumped and danced on the side of the road, and threw flowers and cheers crazily at the Salvation Army.

After seeing the knight's body, recalling Horn's promise, and remembering the pain they had suffered in the past, all the villagers knew who the young man sitting there was.

He was the Pope who killed the Duke, the Pope who exposed the Blue Bloods, the Pope who defeated the Knights, the Pope who stood on the side of the common people, the Pope of the Thousand Valley people themselves.

The Chosen Pope!

(End of this chapter)