Chereads / The Pretender General / Chapter 3 - Chapter 3: If Shamelessness Is Already Present, What's the Point of Talking About Insult?

Chapter 3 - Chapter 3: If Shamelessness Is Already Present, What's the Point of Talking About Insult?

Touching the hard tiger token in his arms, the fat man sitting in the carriage had a strange expression on his face. He didn't understand why this tiger token was here.

The tiger tokens of the Great Ben Dynasty originated from the previous dynasty, the Great Xia Dynasty. The Great Xia Dynasty was a mysterious era. It was said that the ancestors of this dynasty were the war god Chiyou during the Great Battle of the Deer Chase.

And the Great Battle of the Deer Chase, that was already a myth. It was said that during that war, there were many strange and wondrous things. There were Yinglongs, about several hundred zhangs long, capable of spewing clouds and mist from their mouths. There were the Wind God and Rain God, who could control storms and drown entire armies. There was the Drought Demon, whose presence turned the land into a barren wasteland. There were also Chiyou's eighty-one brothers...

In short, it was an era filled with myths. Although the fat man had doubts about that battle, he didn't completely deny it.

The things recorded in history, no matter how mythical they may seem, also contain some truth.

"Could it be because of this tiger token that I've become a target?" The fat man said absently. The range of the catapult was fixed, and even though there might be some deviations at times, it wouldn't be that much. Five hundred zhangs, even if the catapult were improved ten more times, it would never exceed that range.

"Tiger token... Could there be some secret hidden within it?" The fat man's eyes suddenly turned bright green, staring at the tiger token in his hand like a ferocious wolf. But that gaze was fleeting. Now was not the time to study the tiger token. The biggest problem he faced now was the so-called examination.

Carriages were a symbol of status in the capital of the Al'Aas Empire. Only nobles and generals with meritorious service could ride in them. Usually, there were family crests on the carriages, such as the iron-blooded lion emblem on the outside of the carriage the fat man was now sitting in.

Lion Roselle, this was how the people of the capital respectfully addressed the Grand Marshal of the Empire, Roselle.

The fat man lay comfortably in the carriage. According to Qingyin, the entire Roselle family only had this one carriage because both the old duke and the earl preferred to ride horses. Riding in a carriage was a complete shame for soldiers. As for this "honor," the fat man was secretly pleased.

"Is riding a horse more comfortable than sitting in a carriage? That saddle looks smooth, but after sitting on it for a long time, doesn't it hurt down there? Huh..." The fat man glanced at the citizens outside who were pointing and whispering about the carriage.

There were two people sitting in the carriage, the fat man and Qingyin. Normally, Qingyin wouldn't be allowed to sit in the same carriage as a noble, but things were different in the Roselle family. More accurately, Qingyin was the "foster daughter" of Roselle, Heil, who was also the fat man's father. If Qingyin hadn't insisted on only being a maid, her status in the duke's mansion would even be higher than the fat man's.

Because Qingyin was a genius, an absolute genius. Not only did she have extraordinary magical talent, but her military strategy also far surpassed her peers.

Even Duke Roselle had said that if Qingyin were a man, she would definitely be among the top 100 generals in the continent in ten years.

"Young master, just follow my instructions during the exam," Qingyin said softly, her hands resting lightly on her pale, floral dress.

Looking at Qingyin, the fat man couldn't help but drool. At this moment, he finally took a good look at this "maid." Qingyin was beautiful, as pure and flawless as a white water lily. Coupled with her refined, unadulterated demeanor, she was far superior to any of the aristocratic young ladies he had seen in the Great Song Kingdom.

However, the fat man merely admired from afar. He was the type of person with a roving eye but no guts to act on it. Even when he was a general in his previous life, with the power to make it rain or shine, he was still like this.

"Young master..." Seeing the fat man's murky, slightly whitish saliva, Qingyin helplessly shook her head and called out.

"Hmm... What's wrong? Your instructions, what did you just say?" The fat man's eyes kept scanning Qingyin's body, but he still managed to sit up straight.

Qingyin was completely helpless. She had already said it once, but this young master hadn't paid attention. After shaking her head in frustration, she continued, "The exam will be conducted using war games, and the examiners at the Royal Academy will definitely not follow the normal exam content to accommodate you. So, following the usual custom of accommodating aristocratic children from previous years, they will use the questions from the previous exam. Last time, there were three war game setups. The first was the Battle of the Holy Moon City, the second was the Wild Wolf Gorge, and the third was the Battle of the Lionheart Plains. Among these three setups, the examiners will definitely use the third one, the Battle of the Lionheart Plains, to test you. Lionheart..."

Qingyin was about to continue, but the fat man interrupted her, "Hold on, hold on, why would they use the third battle?"

The first time Qingyin said it, the fat man had been too busy admiring the beautiful "scenery" in the capital, only nodding absentmindedly with "Okay, hmm." But now that he was listening carefully, he naturally asked the question that puzzled him.

However, Qingyin regarded this question as foolish. Her crescent-shaped eyebrows furrowed slightly. She knew the fat man was slow and had a poor memory, but she never expected him to be this slow.

Then, Qingyin let out a long sigh, unwilling to scold him. She spoke to him in an unusually gentle voice, "The Battle of the Lionheart Plains was the last battle led by Duke Roselle on the battlefield thirty years ago."

Listening to Qingyin's explanation, the fat man finally understood why she had such a strange expression. Such a victorious battle would be remembered by the entire capital, even the entire Al'Aas Empire. Yet, surprisingly, this future heir didn't know about it, so he was not only foolish but also extremely foolish.

The fat man was innocent. How would he know about this battle? After all, he had only been in this world for two days.

"The Battle of the Lionheart Plains was the last battle led by Duke Roselle before his retirement. Although this battle was famous, it was because it firmly established the Al'Aas Empire's dominant position among the surrounding countries. In reality, it was a simple battle, or rather, a battle destined to be won. Five hundred thousand troops faced ten thousand troops whose morale had already plummeted and were led by no famous generals. Any general with even a little military knowledge would have won in the end," Qingyin explained to the fat man.

"Hmm, hmm..." The fat man nodded like a chick pecking at rice, like an obedient student.

Qingyin closed her eyes for a moment, her snow-white hands clasped together as if she were hesitating whether to say the next part or how to tell the fat man.

Ultimately, Qingyin opened her pearly white teeth, let out a gentle sigh, and decided to omit some unnecessary words for the "fat man": "What you need to do is simple. Just don't move when the war game starts."

"Just don't move?" The fat man's eyes suddenly lit up. Anything that saved effort was the best for him. Seeing the gleam in the fat man's eyes, Qingyin's delicate eyebrows tightened together, as if she wanted to slap him a few times but ultimately gave up. In a very gentle voice, like the murmuring of a stream, she said, "Yes, just don't move. In the Battle of the Lionheart Plains, those ten thousand remaining troops were forced to retreat close to the Alure River..."

Here, Qingyin suddenly shook her head and a self-deprecating smile appeared at the corner of her mouth. Could the fat man understand any of this? As for the fat man, he had no idea what Qingyin was thinking. He turned his head and once again used his chubby right hand to lift the gauze on the carriage window, continuing to look outside.

The Royal Academy was the most prestigious among the many academies in the Al'Aas Empire. It had over a dozen departments, including Magic, Martial Arts, Politics, Military Strategy... and even Pet Breeding. Yes, you heard it right, Pet Breeding. But the pets here referred to magical beasts that could be used as mounts or charge into battle on the battlefield.

 

Among the dozens of departments, the one hailed as the "pearl" is the Department of Military Strategy. Graduating from the Royal Academy smoothly guarantees you a position in the military. On the other hand, the most desolate department undoubtedly belongs to the "Pet Cultivation Department." It's not that this department lacks distinction; rather, it's incredibly challenging to raise magical beasts that can make a difference on the battlefield. Currently, the Pet Cultivation Department comprises merely three individuals, including the teacher.

"Qingyin, what's this?" After disembarking from the carriage, the fat man briefly surveyed the magnificent gates of the Royal Academy before focusing his gaze on a stone monument in front of them.

The monument was a pale golden hue, adorned with a cluster of blossoming thorny vines. Carved above the vines were unfamiliar alien script that the fat man couldn't decipher. However, judging from their neatly arranged order, he could tell they were likely names.

"Young Master, have you forgotten this as well?" Qingyin asked the fat man in surprise.

The fat man chuckled sheepishly; it wasn't that he forgot; he'd never seen it before.

"This is the Hall of Fame of the Star-Moon Continent, recording the top hundred outstanding generals," Qingyin gently explained to the fat man. Her eyes, resembling autumn waters, gazed at the names on the monument with an underlying eightfold respect, while the remaining twofold was eagerness to try.

"Hall of Fame?" The fat man's eyes lit up again, and his black pupils intently fixed on the first name inscribed on the monument.

"Huo Qing, if there were a Hall of Fame in that world, you'd be in this position, wouldn't you? ... And what about me?" As he gazed, the fat man suddenly grew excited and began searching the Hall of Fame, much like candidates in his previous life eagerly scanning the imperial examination results for their names.

Seeing the fat man's behavior, Qingyin momentarily stunned, taking a moment to react. After shaking her head in amusement, she gently said to him, "Young Master, the exam is about to start; let's hurry."

"Oh..." The fat man reluctantly averted his gaze.

"Huo Qing, damn it, if it weren't for that damn catapult fueled by aphrodisiacs, I'd be the military god right now," the fat man suddenly exclaimed angrily.

But soon, he seemed to remember something, deflating like a double-hit eggplant. "Alright, I admit it, luck is also a crucial part of warfare."

"Young Master Heil, I heard you didn't participate in the exam yesterday. Did you give up because you knew you couldn't pass? I admire you; few people in this world can see themselves clearly...," a suave young man in light blue military attire suddenly appeared before the fat man, speaking with utmost politeness.

The young man had golden hair and an enchanting face that rivaled even the beauty of the ladies in the imperial capital the fat man had seen earlier. Coupled with his elegant demeanor and impeccable gentlemanly manners, he shone like a star.

The light blue military uniform further accentuated his heroic aura.

"Dammit, you really think I'm stupid?" The fat man's anger flared up suddenly. The young man's words had deeply wounded his fragile ego. Moreover, the fat man noticed that the gentlemanly young man's gaze kept lingering on Qingyin.

"Excuse me, who are you...?" The fat man's eyes darted, inquiring the young man.

"Buyaolian, Silver Sword," the young man replied, bowing gracefully and extending his right hand in a perfectly executed gentlemanly gesture.

Of course, the gesture wasn't intended for the fat man.

"Shameless, lewd?" The fat man couldn't help but gape in disbelief.

At the fat man's slightly distorted words, Qingyin smiled faintly, her smile resembling a daffodil under the sun, radiating a subtle aura of sanctity.

"Young Master Heil, you're insulting the noble surname of Buyaolian. I challenge you to a duel," Silver Sword's expression darkened, addressing the fat man.

"If you're already shameless, what's the point of fearing insult?" The fat man looked at Silver Sword with some ambivalence. However, he didn't continue to provoke "Lewd," knowing that he wouldn't take any risks without assessing their respective strengths.

"Goodbye, Lewd Young Master," the fat man said with a charming smile, turning and walking ahead. Qingyin followed suit, smiling softly behind him.

Silver Sword's face darkened further, resembling a stormy sky. Aristocrats usually uphold their dignity and honor. Once challenged, a dignified aristocrat would undoubtedly accept the duel.

This was precisely Silver Sword's intention. If the fat man accepted the challenge, the Rossel family wouldn't openly complain, even if he were severely injured, as long as he didn't die.

What Silver Sword didn't anticipate was that, despite his challenge, the fat man could still laugh and dismiss the matter with a casual remark.

This put him in an awkward position, akin to the fat man slapping him hard on the face, only for the latter to apologize with a charming smile when Silver Sword sought revenge, forcing him to suppress his anger.

"Pfft, he's truly a fool. What's the point of arguing with a fool?" After a long while, "Lewd" finally spat out the words.

The fat man had a keen eye for character; he could discern a person's nature at first glance. Although "Lewd" appeared to be a noble gentleman with the cunning expected of aristocratic heirs, beneath his polished exterior lay a hollow heart.

Discussing dignity and honor with a fool? What else could it be but foolishness?