our family is gone

"Boudica is a member of the Guards, Amanda is a friend of mine, and neither of them is in the military system.

And once the missions are carried out, they are all the most difficult tasks, which of course means the highest risks and frequent injuries. It is no exaggeration to say that they face death head-on. "

"I'm not weaker than them!" Margaret was confident in her own strength, "I can also join the Guards."

Lance looked at her like this and speculated that she liked hunting to some extent because she longed for fighting. She was a bit similar to Boudica. It seemed that bloodline in the extraordinary world should be really influential.

"Not everyone can join my personal guard. They are all experienced in battles, and each one has unique skills. What's more important is..."

Lance looked at Margaret and asked.

"Have you ever killed anyone?"

As expected, these words left Margaret speechless.

She has killed a lot of hunting animals, but she has never killed a human. Even if she encounters some situations, it is only to teach a lesson.

It can only be said that she alone raised the moral level of the entire empire's nobility.

"What are you most confident about?"

"I'm good at shooting, long and short guns." Margaret didn't know why Lance asked this suddenly.

"If I refuse like this, you will definitely not be convinced. Then I will let the Guards have a shooting competition with you. If you lose, forget it."

"Then what if I win?" Margaret's unwillingness to admit defeat came to her, and she directly added what Lance didn't say.

"If you win, then I will promise you." Lance agreed without hesitation.

There are so many people in the Guards who can play with guns, but they can't beat you?
Just as he said, Lance took Margaret directly to the training ground.

The training camp is now set aside to train new recruits, while the active soldiers are pulled out to train in the new military camp opened on the outskirts of the town.

These professional soldiers were completely out of work and relied on Lance to support them. The biggest difference from the serf soldiers and militiamen was the more exaggerated training intensity.

Basically, excluding sleeping, a day consists of training and studying, mixed with a small amount of rest time.

Soldiers trained in this way regardless of cost can transform from ordinary people into a truly elite division in a short period of time.

"The shooting range is over there." Lance led Margaret to walk there, with no intention of entering the military camp.

Margaret watched the training of some soldiers curiously.

I found them screaming and fighting with each other with bayonets, but the bayonets were sheathed, so it only hurt a little if they were poked.

There are also some who are poking at human-shaped targets, specifically targeting weak points. If a person is hit, they will be sent away directly.

"Hamlet's musket is different from other places, how come there is an extra part?"

"Of course, with just a small improvement, the fully loaded musket can no longer be a fire stick, but a stabbing gun. This is very practical in battle."

While Lance was explaining, he looked back and noticed that Margaret was just smiling and added.

"If you win, I'll give you a new gun."

"Really!" Margaret became interested now. No gunman can resist the temptation of a new gun.

Lance didn't care about this. The big pie like the bad check was handed out casually. As for cashing it out, wait until you win.

All the infantry in Hamlet's army have been equipped with muskets, some of them have bayonets, and some of them are the standard firearms bought by Totnes.

Guns are about metaphysics, and realistically speaking, they are all about feel, so it is true to say that "sharp shooters are fed bullets."

Although today's flintlock guns don't pay much attention to this, Lance will still arrange shooting training for them. The purpose is to develop the instinct of shooting, that is, muscle memory, so that they will not forget how to load in the battlefield.

Anyway, there is a guarantee that there is no loss. If you can train a few sharpshooters through this process, it will be as exciting as winning a gold card in a card drawing game.

Especially since I have been preparing for action recently, the training intensity during this period has been even greater, and there are many people at the shooting range.

"Hello Lord Lord!"

Lance often appeared in the army, so the soldiers didn't respond at all. At most, they could only say hello.

Normally, Lance wouldn't disturb their training progress, but today he didn't mind giving Margaret some strength and telling her what Hamlet's strength means!
"Come on, come on! Gather the top ten sharpshooters who are still in the military camp."

If you want to mobilize soldiers' enthusiasm for training, you cannot rely solely on material rewards. What is more important is to give them a platform to express themselves.

For this reason, Lance publicly listed the results of outstanding people in different events. At first, there were ten, then thirty, and now fifty. As the number of troops increased, the number of places on the list also increased.

But this does not weaken its gold content, because the competition in the second half is very fierce, and those who can make the list are those with unique skills.

Lance also often holds army-wide competitions, confrontations between different teams, and competitions in different events to motivate them through competition.

In an army where the idea of ​​​​honor prevails, if your brigade loses to another brigade, it will be pushed down. If you want to raise your head, train with all your strength and try to win back next time.

Under Lance's call, three of the top ten who stood out for their marksmanship soon came, excluding those who were on vacation and assigned abroad.

Each of them looks ordinary, even a little rustic, but those who know their records know that these are ruthless people.

The cumulative number of kills in all battles was not less than ten, but nine. The cold look in his eyes when he picked up the gun can make people shudder.

"This sharpshooter wants to challenge our Hamlet. Don't embarrass me if you go out to fight now, you know?"

"Yes!" The soldier stood at attention with his gun on his shoulder, straightening his chest, showing a full spirit.

"Good! Very energetic!" Lance was very satisfied with his soldiers, and turned to Margaret and signaled, "Come on, it's not that easy to join my personal guard."

Margaret's aura born from her aristocratic status was completely fearless, "Let's get started."

Everyone likes to watch the fun, and Lance doesn't mind letting everyone take a break from the heavy training, so more and more soldiers gathered around.

There is no plot where Hamlet's soldiers scream about misogyny, and then Margaret slaps her in the face pretending to be so.

Because the three sharpshooters were as cold as machines, there was no unnecessary nonsense at all, the target was right in front of them, and the game started instantly.

Then things started to go wrong after one round of shooting.

Everyone hit the [-]-yard target, but Margaret hit the bull's-eye accurately. This shot shocked everyone, and the other contestants felt the pressure.

In the second round, one person was eliminated in the fifty-yard static target, but what was shocking was that Margaret still scored the highest.

At this time, Lance felt something was wrong. His shooting skills were not very good.

If you continue like this, you will lose!

But Lance didn't panic at all. He also had two generals, Disma and Barrett.

"Go find..." Lance secretly ordered a soldier beside him.

And the game goes on.

Then in the third round, only Margaret hit the target at a distance of [-] yards, and the remaining two were eliminated.

It can't even compete with the most basic stationary targets, let alone moving targets, rapid fire and other projects.

The three soldiers looked a little ugly when they heard the results reported. Although they usually got three out of ten shots in the [-]-yard distance training event, but now they lost to an outsider on behalf of Hamlet, which made them feel ashamed of their lord's trust.

The other soldiers who came to watch also showed varying degrees of attitude. Originally, everyone came to watch the show, but they did not expect to be killed immediately.

In order to weaken their fear of the nobles, Lance instilled in them confidence. These guys have been invincible and victorious during this period, and their self-confidence has gradually begun to become arrogant, and now it seems to be backlash.Lance noticed their reactions but made no comment.

If we can take this opportunity to suppress their arrogance, it will be good for their growth.

After all, any mistake on the battlefield can be fatal, and the enemy doesn't care about you.

"I'm coming!"

"It's Instructor Disma and Barrett!"

"..."

The two men rushed over in anticipation of the soldiers. They were still on vacation, but they came over immediately after hearing the lord's call.

"Drinking again?" Lance smelled the alcohol on Disma's body. He probably just came out of the pub.

Disma could only grin awkwardly when he heard this.

Lance couldn't help but frown slightly, but he didn't say anything and instead briefly introduced the situation.

"You two, don't underestimate the enemy. Margaret can easily eliminate three of our top ten musketeers." Lance reminded the two of them, and then gestured: "Disma, compete with her in the pistol competition."

"Look at me, sir."

The lord's warning made Disma put away his careless manner and stepped forward.

Most of these musketeers were brought out by him, and he knew what level they were, but they were eliminated before even finishing the first event. This opponent was not easy.

"Stop shooting at the ten-yard target, just go to the thirty-yard target." Disma opened his mouth and directly raised the difficulty level. Since he knew he was a master, he shouldn't waste time at this entry-level level.

This kind of flintlock short-barreled pistol generally has an effective range of only ten yards. Beyond that, it is very biased and has little power.

Thirty yards is almost the limit, and being able to control it speaks volumes about your ability.

Margaret naturally didn't care, so she pulled out the pistol from her waist and loaded it.

Although they are both experienced, Disma must have finished loading faster with fixed ammunition.

Disma raised his gun and aimed it at the target, and pulled the trigger without even taking too much aim.

There was a "bang" and the fire suddenly appeared. Disma confidently put away the gun, and his flowing posture showed what it means to be confident.

Then the referee over there ran over to check it and shouted.

"Off target!"

As soon as this was said, everyone was dumbfounded.

Even Lance couldn't help but be stunned for a moment.

This...isn't right...

Call out a thirty-yard target at the beginning, and everyone is waiting to see you perform, but the first shot misses the target?

Match-fixing, right?
Trading, right?

Disma How many did you buy to win the opponent?
But Lance soon noticed something. The gun in Disma's hand was not the gun he was used to, but was taken from Fat Francis.

I'm afraid Disma has never used it once. It is inevitable for this new gun to make mistakes without running in, let alone a thirty-yard target.

But the problem is that this gun was given to him by himself.

Oops!It’s me who is in charge...

Lance had mixed emotions. He was quite proud at the time, but he didn't expect that the "bullet" would hit him from behind after flying for so many days.

Disma himself was dumbfounded. The shout immediately made him break into a cold sweat. A little bit of drunkenness was also expelled with the sweat, and he woke up.

He stared blankly at the target in the distance, his expression indescribably dull.

Did I...miss the target?

"boom!"

Margaret on the other side was finally loaded, and the sound of a gunshot drew everyone's attention back. Everyone couldn't wait to hear the results.

"On target! Eight points."

This sound immediately ignited the scene, and there was a lot of discussion. You must know that the Disma spear may be average, but the handjob is very powerful.

His personal record shows that he can hit wherever he can within ten yards. Even if it is a thirty-yard target that challenges the limit, he can have a stable dispersion, at least he will not miss the target.

But now he actually lost to that person, and he missed the target most directly. This couldn't help but arouse many people's doubts.

Disma naturally heard this result and felt the eyes of everyone. Even if his character was indifferent, he couldn't help but feel ashamed. The pressure rose crazily and the hand holding the gun couldn't help but tremble.

Disma's heart was filled with complicated emotions, and he looked down at his hands. Or had he fallen to such an extent?

Have you forgotten why you live?

Disma's will is being tested...

He did not forget!
The oath on the old road seemed to be engraved in his brain, and he would never forget it!

Disma tightened his hands suddenly, and his knuckles even turned a little white from the force.

Silently, he inserted the new gun back into his waist, then took out the original gun from his waist and quickly reloaded it.

Disma chose to face failure head-on, raised his head to meet those tangled, disappointed, and even angry eyes, and shouted loudly.

"Did you see that? This is the consequences of underestimating the enemy. You are ashamed of me."

He raised his hand and fired without even taking aim.

"boom!"

This sudden gunshot made the restless people fall silent again.

And everyone's attention couldn't help but be attracted to it.

"very!"

Someone went over to test the target and shouted loudly.

Margaret couldn't help but be a little surprised when she heard this. This man was really powerful, and he relied on instinct to shoot.

So what was the shot just now?
Not only did she have such doubts, but others also did.

As a result, many people called for the game to restart, but Disma directly refused.

"If you lose, you lose. There is no chance for a second shot on the battlefield."

After saying that, Disma turned and left without saying a word, and there was not much reaction on his face, but only determination.

I will be on the road to redemption again.

Starting today – quit drinking! (End of chapter)