Ironvine Territory (Seventy-Two)

However, James was also a little worried. They had lost their bearings, and if he kept trudging forward with his head down only to return to the camp they had set out from, Ron and Victor would laugh him to death.

Fortunately, none of that happened. After James led his men onward for a while longer and turned past a pitch-black forest, a squad of soldiers suddenly appeared ahead of them.

Both sides were startled by the other. James hurriedly waved the torch in his hand and shouted, "Who goes there? Password!"

"Men keep their weapons sheathed!"

"Horses keep their hooves wrapped!"

Once the passwords matched, James immediately asked, "I'm James, Regimental Commander of the First Regiment. Which unit are you from?"

"Regimental Commander James? I'm Buffons of the Fourth Detachment!"

The officer leading the squad also came over. James took a close look and recognized Buffons, the commander of the Fourth Detachment under his command.

James immediately grew anxious. He remembered that Buffons's unit had been behind him, so how had it ended up ahead of him? Had they really been heading back? Was James, Regimental Commander of the First Regiment of the Southern Marching Legion, about to become a laughingstock?

Fortunately, after James questioned Buffons carefully, he learned that their current position was not somewhere they had already passed. The main army was simply not far ahead.

James had probably moved too quickly at the beginning, failed to find the markers, and taken a detour.

"Regimental Commander, my unit has been following at the very rear of the main army, so we didn't light many torches. We couldn't tell which way we were going at all, and it was too dark to make out the road. We didn't dare ride at a gallop, either.

"We just followed the