Several hours later.
Prayed Frank rode north along the road with his twelve squad members.
All around him were the rest of the densely packed Silver Cross Mixed Regiment, both infantry and cavalry. The regiment commander, clad head to toe in silver armor, led his personal guards at the very front to clear the way, while battalion commander Hayman, whom he greatly disliked, was not far ahead to the side.
Frank blinked as he looked at Hayman's back, wondering how to keep farther away from him so the man would not notice him and make trouble for him.
Who knew Hayman would sense it and turn around? Sitting atop his horse, he glared at him and scolded him with practiced ease. "Frank Dais, what's wrong with you?! You're the captain of a cavalry squad. Why are you so slow? You're practically falling behind the entire formation, worse than the other infantry squads. What have you been doing? Did you eat all the horse feed and leave the horses starving?"
As he spoke, the fat around his neck jiggled along with him, making him look both ridiculous and detestable.
You're the one who eats horse feed. No, you eat pig feed—that's why you look like such a pig... Frank cursed inwardly, but he did not dare show it. He put on a broad smile and said, "Battalion Commander, how could I eat horse feed? I'm only a little slow because I left a bit late."
"Don't tell me you're afraid of battle?" Battalion commander Hayman rolled his eyes dramatically.
You're the one afraid of battle. I'm just worried some low-probability bad thing will happen again, so I kept my squad in the rear half of the formation. That way, we can deal with danger if it comes... Frank thought, but he