Every one of these demon troops wore heavy green armor, with the emblem of a flaming dragon's head on their shoulders and chests.
They were Vulkan's Salamander Legion!
Among all the Sons of Solam, Vulkan had always been the most honest and simple-minded one. He had passed those traits on to his Legion as well. The Salamander Legion's warriors possessed the greatest adaptability and endurance of all Legion warriors. They could endure hardship and labor, and showed extraordinary resistance against any predicament or injury. At the same time, because their Legion commander was fanatically obsessed with forging, their equipment was a cut above that of the other Legions.
Of course, not everything Vulkan had passed on was a good thing. Take Vulkan's taste in aesthetics, for example. Perhaps because he himself was a Black guy, he had always been fond of things that were black and hard. Weapons, for instance. He disliked soft, flimsy longswords and spears, preferring heavy weapons—axes, warhammers, flails, heavy dragon lances, and so on. In short, the bigger and longer, the better.
The same went for armor. The armor Vulkan made for himself—Salamander's Blessing—was an astonishing five centimeters thick... The price of such thickness was that the armor was incomparably bulky and massive, making him look like a miniature Gundam. If Vulkan had not been born with monstrous strength, he probably would have been no more than a decoration after putting it on.
Vulkan had already been renowned among his brothers for his great size. Once he put on his armor, all his other brothers could only be called children in front of him...
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For some reason, this baffling aesthetic had also been promoted by Vulkan throughout the Salamander Legion. In any case, Salamander warriors liked them thick and big. Every one of