Farrow had been doing everything he could to suppress Rost ever since becoming legion commander.
Rost had grievances he could not voice. Whether in background or resources, he was far inferior to Farrow and could only watch helplessly as he was squeezed out of the center of power.
Recently, Rost had been drowning himself in drink and pleasure, never coming to the military headquarters. Farrow had nearly forgotten about him, never expecting him to suddenly throw his weight around and dare speak to him like this.
For a moment, he was stunned and unable to react.
Yet Rost pressed his advantage without yielding an inch. He stepped forward, his imposing presence giving Farrow no time to respond.
"Frontline reconnaissance intelligence shows that the probability of a beast tide forming exceeds eighty percent! As deputy commander, during combat readiness I am verifying the reserves of advanced weapons and reviewing files on the weaknesses of potentially threatening exotic beasts in preparation for formulating defense and counterattack plans. What is the problem with that?"
With every sentence, he advanced another step, his words pelting Farrow like a barrage of cannon fire.
"Or does Commander Farrow believe that I, the deputy commander, am not even qualified to perform my basic duties during combat readiness? That everything must wait for you... or the Loto Family behind you... to personally nod in approval?"
Farrow was caught off guard by his sudden forcefulness, his face alternating between green and white.
The personal guards behind him held their breath, sensing the drawn-sword tension between the two officers. The generals busy with military affairs also gathered around, all of them greatly shocked by what they saw.
"What's gotten into General Rost? He's so fierce—he actually dares go head-to-head with Commander Farrow?"
"Exactly! I feel like I don't even recognize