"Dad, look! That's the White Lion Guard!" The boy trembled with excitement. "I heard they're Count Tonigell's personal guards!"
The middle-aged hunter's expression turned strange, as if he wanted to say something, but in the end he couldn't get the words out. He could only stare blankly as the White Lion Guard's Heavy Infantry marched in perfect formation, row after row descending the enormous vines stretching down to the ground. Throughout the entire process, there wasn't a single unnecessary sound apart from the dull, uniform thudding of their metal greaves.
No one whispered to one another. Nor did they have the casual laughter, curses, whistles, or booming laughter of the Noble Private Soldiers or even knights he had seen elsewhere. Almost everyone passed by them without so much as glancing sideways. There had been no unnecessary eye contact at all, yet the middle-aged hunter still felt an aura that chilled him from head to toe sweeping toward him.
He had once seen Brags's Southern Legion in Manowell. Those knightly lords were considered fairly capable, and it was said that during the First Black Rose War, they had clashed with Madara's Bone Frames more than once. Compared with the local Noble Private Soldiers who collapsed at the first touch of the undead, they could at least be considered an elite force.
It was said that this Southern Legion had also taken Count Tonigell's side in the war led by Grand Duke Golan-Elson. He had never thought much of the count's future in the first place. No matter how capable he was, how many Noble Private Soldiers and knights could he possibly have under his command?
But now, not one of those thoughts surfaced. He only felt an icy chill at the back of his head, as if cold sweat were constantly