The sound of war drums echoed, and all units throughout the main camp immediately halted their training tasks, donned their armor with the utmost speed, grabbed their supplies, and headed to the parade ground to assemble.
Just as the troops across the entire camp were assembling, Velin arrived at the logistics camp.
Inside the camp area, which spanned less than a thousand square meters, thirteen iron cauldrons with a diameter of three meters were set up.
At the edge of each iron cauldron, three stout men held seven-meter-long iron spoons, stirring the food within.
"How many soldiers can this single cauldron provide food for at one time?" Velin looked at the nearest iron cauldron and asked Rayat.
Hearing this, Rayat froze for a moment, looked at the churning chunks of meat in the pot, and then glanced at the nearby quartermaster, temporarily at a loss for how to answer.
"You don't know?"
"I don't know." Hearing this, Rayat replied.
"You lad probably don't pay much attention to these things normally."
Rayat's face flushed slightly, and he lowered his head to answer, "Y... yes, Uncle Velin."
"As a lord, you should understand these things, otherwise people beneath you might embezzle, and you wouldn't even know it."
"From my experience, the black pork cooked in this pot weighs about ten thousand catties. If it's supplied to low-rank Bronze warriors undergoing full-load training, the meat in one cauldron can feed a thousand soldiers."
"If expanded to the entire tier of Bronze-tier warriors, the meat in this cauldron can supply six hundred to eight hundred soldiers, which is just about the size of a brigade."
With that, Velin turned to look at the quartermaster and spoke, "Is what I said correct?"
The quartermaster wiped the sweat from his forehead and hurriedly replied, "Count Sir,