Ten days later, Art, accompanied by over a dozen robust men dressed in identical black cloaks and robes, swaggered into Tinietz City from the south.

Inside the Tinietz Municipal Hall, Viscount Pierre stood by the window of his office, observing the neatly arrayed Patrol Team Soldiers in their black cloaks and robes in the small square downstairs. He turned to Art, who was seated on a wooden stool, and said, "Fellow, you're more impressive than I imagined. You actually managed to assemble this Patrol Team in a single winter. Hmm, they look even more imposing than the city's Public Security Team Soldiers."

Art shifted his posture and replied to Viscount Pierre, "My Lord, these are all Patrol Team Soldiers I've carefully selected. They all possess the courage to slay bandits and suppress outlaws."

Viscount Pierre glanced at Art and Ron, who stood straight behind Art, and said, "Hmm, go to the Secretary and register the Patrol Team Soldiers as soon as possible. I will write a letter to the Court Minister of Public Security, reporting the completion of the Patrol Team's formation. Additionally, winter is about to end. Provence and Lombardy are still locked in fierce combat along the central front. Andermatt Fortress, a stronghold on the eastern front, was just recaptured by Duke Vladis last month, but it was reoccupied by Lombardy at the beginning of this month. Now, the eastern conflict is starting to spread north, and we will face even greater refugee pressure. The southern region of Tinietz will become even more chaotic, so you must do your part and lead your Patrol Team to maintain public security and stability in the southern border region."

Art nodded repeatedly in agreement, then tactfully requested funds and provisions, saying, "My Lord, the Patrol Team now has over a dozen mouths waiting for food. What do you think?"

Viscount Pierre sat back in his armchair, tapping the table with his right hand, interrupting Art. "Alright, I don't want to hear you complain about poverty, nor will I waste words with you. You haven't disappointed me, so I will allocate another five hundred pounds of provisions and twelve hundred fenny in military pay, plus three military tents."

Art was overjoyed and was about to express his gratitude when Viscount Pierre continued, "Don't get too happy too soon! My money and provisions won't be given for nothing! I need you to do something."

"Please speak, My Lord," Art said, straightening his posture.

"Last autumn, Ars Fortress on the southeastern border was captured by a group of bandits from Bore Mountain. If I hadn't caught a thief who escaped from Ars Fortress in Tinietz City last month, I wouldn't have even known such a thing had happened. That Bastard Antaias actually dared to conceal such a major loss of territory from me. However, I can't openly send troops to reclaim Ars Fortress right now, as that would let the Court and His Grace the Marquis know about it. So, I need you to go in my stead and help Baron Antayas clean up the mess."

When they emerged from Viscount Pierre's office, Ron expressed his confusion about Viscount Pierre's actions. "My Lord, since Lord Pierre already knows that Ars Fortress was captured by bandits, why doesn't he personally send troops to conquer them, or directly order Baron Antayas to conscript Soldiers to reclaim it? Why does he have to spend money to have us secretly assist Baron Antayas? Can this really hide it from the Court?"

Art, with his hands tucked into his leather belt at his waist, replied as he walked out of the Lord's Hall, "Lord Pierre is a shrewd man. Since Baron Antayas hasn't officially reported the matter of Ars Fortress, he won't proactively inquire about it. If the Court and His Grace the Marquis ever blame him in the future, he can always claim that Baron Antayas concealed it from him, and that he was unaware. Even if he gets implicated in the crime of losing territory, it's still much better than knowing and doing nothing. Moreover, he can't manage Ars Fortress right now; Ars Fortress is only nominally under his jurisdiction. The safety of Tinietz City is his most pressing concern, which is why he's bribing me to secretly help reclaim Ars Fortress."

"As for giving us so much food and pay, he's killing two birds with one stone. The more money and provisions we take from him, the more we have to risk our lives for him. And he will definitely report to the Court and Bishop Olov Hannes that Tinietz County provided immense support to the Patrol Officer without compensation under extremely difficult circumstances—"

"That's effing cunning! These noble lords' minds are more twisted than a woman's weaving loom..." Ron couldn't help but curse a few obscenities.

"Alright, Ron, at least we've gained something practical. As for helping Antaias reclaim Ars Fortress, that's something we were already planning to do. The fact that we can get some provisions and pay from Lord Pierre because of it is a bonus."

"Lord Pierre requires us to go to Andermatt Fortress before the end of spring plowing. I requested to be stationed in Tinietz City for half a month, citing the need for further training for the newly recruited Patrol Team Soldiers. During this half-month, our food supply will be handled by Tinietz. You go and store our own provisions and those allocated by the county in the warehouse, then notify Officer Odo to arrange for food and lodging."

Ron took his leave.

In an open space on the military camp square in Tinietz City, several candles illuminated a military tent large enough for three people. Art sat cross-legged on a felt mat at the head of the tent, while Officer Odo, Ron, Bas, and Kazak sat at the foot.

"Are the Soldiers all settled?" Art asked.

Ron replied, "My Lord, everyone is asleep except for the rotating sentries."

"Hmm, I called you all here tonight for this military meeting because I'm going to the Secretary tomorrow to register everyone. Once the registration is complete, our Patrol Team will be officially established. I plan to list you all as officers. Currently, the Court won't care about your so-called 'officers,' and you won't gain any benefits from the Court for this nominal title. After all, even I, the Patrol Officer, am only in a temporary position. But if the Court grants promotions in the future, as 'officers' recorded in the registry, you might also benefit."

"You all were the first to follow me. Just last winter alone, we brushed with death twice. The Patrol Team is about to be formed. From now on, we must always be ready to fight desperately against bandits, marauders, and mountain outlaws. Your heads, like mine, are already hanging on spear tips."

Art paused, then continued, "Working with your lives on the line should yield rewards worth risking your lives for. When my strength grows in the future, I naturally won't treat any of you unfairly. But for now, we are few and weak. I can only ensure you are well-fed and receive your pay on time each month."

Officer Odo and the others listened quietly, knowing that Art was about to assign temporary positions and salaries to everyone.

"Now, let me explain my temporary Soldier organization for the Patrol Team: The Patrol Team will temporarily be divided into three levels: combat groups, squads, and teams. A combat group consists of three men, two combat groups form a squad, and two squads form a team. I will serve as the Team Leader. For now, I will not appoint group leaders or squad leaders. Excluding myself, the entire team has fourteen members. Officer Odo, Bas, Kazak, you three will each select three new recruits and divide them into three groups for training: Officer Odo's first group, Bas's second group, and Kazak's third group. The remaining new recruit will temporarily serve as my guard and be led and trained by Ron. In half a month, the Soldiers from all four groups will compete, and I will then appoint you based on your results in training the Soldiers and your usual performance. Regarding pay, the ten new recruits will temporarily receive ten fenny per week, and you four will temporarily receive fifteen fenny per week. After the training competition results are out in half a month, I will adjust your pay according to your positions."

"For these two weeks, you will train in three areas: individual combat skills, three-man battle formations, and shield-and-spear line formations. These are all the drills you've practiced daily in Valley Wood Fort throughout the past winter, especially the shield-and-spear line formation, which is our primary battle formation. You've all basically mastered the essentials, and now it's up to you to see if you can teach what you've learned to the new recruits."

"Officer Odo, in addition to training the new recruits, you will also temporarily be responsible for all logistical matters for the entire team. You will arrange sentry rotations and manage provisions and supplies."

"Bas, you are temporarily responsible for military discipline. Furthermore, no one is allowed to enter or leave the Patrol Team camp without my permission, especially don't provoke the city guard Soldiers. We're occupying their camp, and they're looking for trouble; but if any outsiders dare to force their way into the camp, apprehend them all."

"Do any of you have anything else to say?" Art scanned the few people in the tent.

Ron shifted his rear a few times, about to speak, but Art directly interrupted him, saying, "Ron, I know what you want to say. We only have this many new recruits for now, and you are slightly inferior to them in both individual combat skills and battle formation training. So, I'll give you one new recruit to train first. If you can train this new recruit well, I can still appoint you as a squad leader."

Upon hearing this, Ron could only swallow his grievances.

The next day, Art brought the Secretary and his assistant to the Patrol Team's station. One by one, the officers and Soldiers of the Patrol Team were registered and had their thumbprints pressed next to a cross. Art signed his name, Art Wood Wells, at the end of the registration document. Finally, as the Secretary stamped the parchment with a bronze seal bearing Viscount Pierre's ram crest, the Burgundy County Tinietz Border Security Patrol Team was officially established. This document would be sent along with Viscount Pierre's wax-sealed letter to the Court Minister of Public Security's office.

For the next period, the corner of the military camp square in Tinietz echoed daily with the dull thuds of new recruits sparring and the sound of Officer Odo and the others beating new recruits with sticks. All the beatings Art had given them during their training were now inflicted upon the new recruits.

Ron watched Officer Odo and the others already training their respective three-man battle formations, while the fellow in front of him hadn't even learned the basic movements of holding a spear and shield. A wave of anxiety washed over him, and he yelled at the new recruit in front of him, "Jason, remember to hold your round shield in front of your chest! It's to protect your chest and abdomen, not to block your big head! Your eyes need to see your opponent!! Your short spear should be held level, resting on the upper right edge of the round shield! Level! Level, I said!"

"Ow!"

Ron hit Jason on the shoulder with a stick. Jason, struck by the blow, became even more flustered, completely forgetting the spear and shield techniques Ron had taught him—

So Ron had to shout and start teaching the clumsy fellow, who was a year older than him, all over again…

On the first Sunday after the Patrol Team was officially formed, Art distributed their pay and allowed everyone half a day of rest. Apart from Officer Odo and one sentry who remained on duty, everyone else left the Patrol Team camp.

In a lean-to shack built against the city wall in the southeastern Free Buffalo of Tinietz City, a large clay pot was simmering with a full pot of animal organs and assorted meats. Four men in black cloaks and robes sat at a rickety wooden table inside the shack. The tavern owner brought four large bowls of offal stew to the wooden table and poured several large cups of homemade apple wine from a nearby wooden barrel.

A dark-skinned, burly fellow raised his wooden wine cup and gulped down the fruit wine in one go. Then he reached directly into the wooden bowl in front of him, grabbed a piece of boiled fatty intestine, and stuffed it into his mouth, chewing loudly. He then mumbled indistinctly to a gloomy young fellow beside him, "Ja—Jason, I—say—you're lucky. Little Officer Ron doesn't hit too hard—"

A red-faced fellow across from the burly man, who had also been drinking and was slightly flushed, chimed in, "That's right, Jason. You saw how hard Officer Odo hit Tuba and me these past few days. Look at Tuba's arm, it's all bruised..." As he spoke, he stood up and rolled up Tuba's sleeve, revealing the marks left by the wooden stick on his forearm.

The fellow named Jason glanced at the bluish-black bruises on Tuba's arm, then rubbed his own shoulder. It seemed his own grievances were nothing compared to Tuba's. His frown eased, and he changed the subject, asking, "Where did the other fellows go?"

The red-faced man chuckled, saying mischievously, "Them? They went to the pauper's shacks in the northeast of the city to have some fun. Those big-chested girls—"

The red-faced man spoke with great excitement, and Jason listened, blushing furiously.

The Soldiers of the Patrol Team's first new recruit group and the guard group were drinking in the dilapidated shack tavern. Prices were high in Tinietz City at the moment; a pint of wheat beer in a slightly better tavern cost half a fenny, and a portion of roasted pork with rye bread and a bowl of pea and meat soup cost four fenny. These new recruits only received ten fenny in weekly pay, so they were reluctant to spend it all on drinks. Thus, they found this dilapidated shack tavern in the southeastern Free Buffalo. Each of them spent less than two and a half fenny to buy half a barrel of homemade apple wine and several large bowls of greasy offal stew. They had already drunk several large bowls of fruit wine and were all a bit tipsy.

While the new recruits were drinking fruit wine in the Free Buffalo, Art was hosting the Tinietz Armory Steward at a tavern (which also served as an inn) called the Free Buffalo in the southwest of the city, accompanied by Bas, Ron, and Kazak.

The fat-headed, big-eared Armory Steward was already red-faced from drinking under the combined assault of Bas and Ron. He raised his wine glass and loudly declared to Art, "No problem, Lord Art! From now on, any weapons and supplies allocated to you, I will make sure to save the best for you."

Art raised his wine glass for a toast, then leaned in and whispered to the stout Steward, "Steward Pete, do you think it would be cheaper if I ordered weapons and armor from the Tinietz blacksmiths and armories through the armory?"

The stout Steward looked at Art with hazy eyes and replied, "Lord Art, Lord Pierre personally reviews the armory's order list. That... would be a bit difficult—" With that, he swirled his wine glass and drained it.

Art gave Kazak a look. Kazak picked up the small wine barrel from the table and refilled the stout Steward's cup, flattering him, "Who in Tinietz City doesn't know Steward Pete's capabilities? As long as you want to do something, there's nothing you can't accomplish."

The stout Steward greatly enjoyed Kazak's flattery. He laughed, raised his wine glass, and took another big gulp, saying, "Haha, you're exaggerating, exaggerating, but there really isn't anything in Tinietz City that I, Pete, can't handle, as long as you can offer a reasonable price..."

The stout Steward, who was dead drunk that night, did not go home. Art paid the hotel owner an additional six fenny for the room and instructed the owner to find a thoughtful girl to "take good care" of the stout Steward.

Art and the others also hiccuped their way back to the camp…