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Of course, Karl wasn't arrogant enough to launch a full-scale attack on the Sauron.

He knew perfectly well that the main force of the Sauron was brave and skilled in battle, and a head-on confrontation would only result in heavy losses for his own army, which would be suicidal. However, small-scale counterinsurgency warfare was entirely feasible.

The Sauron strongholds scattered in the mountains and forests were mostly guarded by only a few dozen or a hundred people, and their defenses were lax, making them perfect targets for training.

It can both plunder property to alleviate financial pressure and allow soldiers to accumulate experience and hone their skills in actual combat.

Karl's eyes grew brighter and brighter, and the gloom in his chest vanished.

He clenched his fist tightly. The plan to take the initiative had taken root and sprouted in his heart like a seed. It was time to let the Sauron taste the bitterness of being plundered.

As the sun gradually set in the west, casting long shadows on the training ground, the two-hour high-intensity tactical exercise finally came to an end.

Karl stood with his hands behind his back on the high platform, his gaze sweeping over the neatly lined soldiers below. Their armor was covered in dust, and beads of sweat slid down their foreheads, soaking the lining of their collars, yet each of them stood ramrod straight, their eyes showing no sign of fatigue, but rather a sharp, invigorating intensity.

Karl was very satisfied with this performance. He raised his hand to signal the messenger beside him to be quiet, and then said loudly, "You all performed exceptionally well in today's drill!"

As soon as he finished speaking, a suppressed murmur arose in the ranks, and the soldiers straightened their backs even more.

Karl's gaze swept over the officers standing at the front of the ranks, nodding to each one with approval in his voice. "Swift formation changes, accurate command transmission—you all demonstrate excellent military leadership and deserve recognition!"

The officers whose names were called raised their hands in salute, their faces revealing an undisguised pride.

Karl abruptly changed the subject, his voice carrying through the wind to every soldier's ears. "Tomorrow is a day off. All training missions are canceled!"

Upon hearing this, the soldiers let out a low cheer.

Karl smiled and waved, silencing the crowd's excitement. "Listen to me! Soldiers are free to rest within the camp, but are strictly prohibited from leaving without permission; officers may go home for a day to reunite with their families."

"There's one more thing," Karl's voice rang out again, and the room quickly fell silent.

"Today's drill will undoubtedly have its strengths and weaknesses. After you all return, you should all prepare a detailed summary." He paused, then added, "Whether it's strengths, weaknesses, or tactical details that need improvement, please speak frankly."

"The summary is first compiled by the Platoon Leader within the platoon, then reported up the chain of command to the company commander, and so on, until finally it is submitted to me for personal review."

His sharp gaze swept over the crowd. "Anyone whose suggestion is adopted, regardless of their official rank, will be rewarded!"

"I obey Your Lord's command!"

The resounding response echoed across the training ground. After receiving their orders, the officers led their respective units away in an orderly fashion.

Otto returned to the musketeer company, stood before the chaotic ranks, his brow furrowed slightly, but he wasn't particularly annoyed.

During the drill, the Musketeers lined up at the front of their formation and fired in unison as instructed. After a round of fire, they retreated, but somehow got tangled up with the spearmen company next to them.

At this moment, some Musketeers were mixed in with the pikemen, frantically trying to explain; others were holding their muskets, looking around in the crowd for their comrades; and a few young soldiers were taking advantage of the chaos to chat and joke with their familiar comrades.

Otto didn't yell at him; he simply crossed his arms and watched the chaos unfold before him.

An army is never a perfectly precise machine; what army is infallible?

Rather than blindly pursuing superficial perfection, the true path to growth for an army lies in constantly correcting and refining itself amidst chaos.

Excessive criticism will only wear down the soldiers' morale, resulting in more harm than good.

Once the commotion subsided, Otto cleared his throat, his deep voice carrying an undeniable authority. "Had enough? Get back to your teams! Any further dawdling and your day off tomorrow is canceled!"

These words were more effective than any reprimand, and the chaotic group instantly quieted down.

The soldiers dared not delay any longer and quickly ran back to their ranks. In no time, the previously scattered musket company stood in neat rows again.

Otto nodded in satisfaction and announced loudly, "Everyone heard that! There are no training exercises tomorrow. The entire army will have a day of rest!"

The soldiers let out a low, suppressed cheer, afraid that if they were too loud, their superiors would change their minds. The cheer quickly subsided.

Otto continued, "Rest is limited to the barracks; no one is allowed to leave. After returning to camp, each Platoon Leader leader should organize the soldiers to summarize the gains and losses of this exercise. Both the good and the bad must be clearly written down. Those who write fair and detailed summaries will be rewarded!"

The soldiers responded in unison, and then, led by their respective Platoon Leader leaders, carried their muskets back to the barracks.

According to custom, the first thing they did upon entering was to hand over their muskets to the weapon rack in the barracks, carefully wipe them clean, and then remove their leather or Chain Mail and change into light civilian clothes.

Otto stayed until the very end, personally going to the armory to count the number of muskets.

In the dimly lit storeroom, rows of muskets were neatly arranged. He counted them one by one, checked the records in the book, and only after confirming that the quantity was correct did he pick up a charcoal pencil and solemnly put a checkmark in the book.

Only after doing all this did Otto breathe a sigh of relief.

He also took off his armor, revealing a thick cotton-padded military uniform underneath. The collar of the uniform was worn, but it was clean.

He then went to each of the barracks and confirmed the duty arrangements for tomorrow with the platoon Platoon Leader one by one before he was finally at ease.

He's a military officer and has a one-day leave to go home. Counting the days, he hasn't been home for a month.

The thought of his wife and children at home softened Otto's tense face, which had been tense all day.

Marissa gave birth to a daughter last month.

The little one is exquisitely beautiful, with features exactly like Marissa's; she's as pretty as a porcelain doll.

Otto had originally hoped to have a son, after all, he was a soldier and sincerely hoped that one day a boy would follow in his footsteps and become a warrior who would fight on the battlefield.

But when he first held that soft little one in his arms, listening to her babbling and seeing her little fists clenched around her fingers, the regret in his heart instantly vanished.

He couldn't help but think to himself, "My daughter is good too. I'll spoil her and make sure no one can bully her."

Filled with joy, Otto strode towards home.

When he encountered familiar colleagues and soldiers on the road, he greeted them with a smile and a nod, his steps light as if he were walking on clouds.

The afterglow of the setting sun shone on him, casting a long, long shadow that stretched towards his home, where there were warm lights, soft blankets, and his beloved family.