Military Discipline (2)

Lushen's face darkened, and he tightened his grip on his weapon.

He was furious, but not because he had been insulted.

Suleiman had just issued a military order to the troops, and this man had dared to disobey it.

But Lushen didn't flare up at once. He simply looked at the burly man calmly.

"What's your name?"

"I'm Rolf! Rolf of Deddings Town!" The burly man puffed out his chest, seeming proud to come from Deddings Town. "Got it, you Foulkeep farmer?"

A few men around Rolf joined in, jeering.

Elsewhere in the ranks, more and more people began to stir.

Suleiman was deeply disappointed in Lushen and sighed to himself. It had been too soon; he'd tried to force things before they were ready. He would have to step in.

If absolute authority wasn't established at once, the troops would soon fall apart again.

But then Suleiman saw—

Without another word, without so much as a warning shout, Lushen drew the long sword at his waist. A flash of cold steel streaked through the air, and a smiling head soared high above them.

The crowd gathered around them saw—

Rolf had been holding his head high, a mocking smile on his lips as he waited to see Lushen back down in disgrace.

The men beside him were looking forward to a good show, too. They were all resentful that Suleiman had appointed two farmers to lead them instead of choosing them.

But just as his smile reached its widest, Lushen moved.

He stepped forward, his body bent low, and swiftly drew the long sword at his waist. There was no need to describe the details. The movement was full of power, and the blade swept across Rolf's neck in an instant.

Rolf's laughter stopped abruptly.

His head flew up before his body could react. His eyes widened in shock, reflecting Lushen's upside-down, icy face.

He felt the world spinning around him. He tried to cry out, but no sound came.

His burly body swayed. His head had been severed, and blood gushed out like a fountain, spattering the people beside him, their armor, and the dirt.

The long sword in his hand clanged to the ground.

After swaying a few times, his body crashed down. His head flew a yard away, eyes still wide as saucers, his final expression frozen in death.

The sudden turn of events silenced the entire troop in an instant.

The jeering, the laughter, the chatter—every sound vanished, and all fell still.

Hundreds of eyes stared in horror and disbelief at Rolf lying in a pool of blood and at Lushen beside him, his long sword drenched in blood.

The heavy stench of blood filled the air, stirring fear in everyone's nostrils.

Lushen withdrew his sword, his movements smooth and calm, as if he had done nothing more than a trivial task.

He rested the tip of the sword on the ground and placed both hands on its hilt. In the sunlight, the blood on the blade reflected a dazzling, glaring red.

The soldiers struck by that red gleam were so frightened that some stumbled backward and landed hard on their backsides.

He raised his head and slowly swept his icy gaze across everyone present. His voice was calm, yet carried a chill that made the souls of all who witnessed the scene tremble, along with an undeniable menace.

"Rolf disobeyed Lord Suleiman's military order. He has been executed."

His voice wasn't loud, but every person present heard him clearly.

It was so calm, yet so terrifying.

Now they understood why he had asked the man's name.

Those who had been jeering or causing a commotion fell silent, swallowing nervously. Their faces went pale, and their bodies began to tremble.

Lushen stood beside Rolf's corpse like a judge pronouncing a death sentence.

Around him stood three hundred makeshift soldiers, cowed by the bloody scene.

"This is what happens when anyone disobeys Lord Suleiman's orders!" Lushen's icy voice made Rolf's companions shudder.

"Now!" Lushen's voice rang out again, leaving no room for doubt.

"Everyone, heed my orders! Form squads of one hundred and fifty! Twenty across and six deep! Arrange yourselves into a square formation! Fall in at once!"

His gaze swept over every soldier's face. Their eyes were filled with fear and awe.

Their earlier arrogance and idleness had vanished, replaced by silence so tense it felt ready to snap.

Not a single person in the ranks dared make a sound or stop moving. Fear had overwhelmed everything.

Suleiman stood not far away, having witnessed it all.

From Lushen's calm question, to Rolf's arrogant provocation, to Lushen drawing his sword, and finally to Rolf's head flying through the air and blood splashing as his body fell.

In a mere instant, Suleiman's disappointment turned to excitement. His heart pounded in his chest. It was a feeling of accomplishment.

A farmer had truly become a warrior!

He needed an aide—not just a guard, but someone who could handle things on his own and carry out his will, someone who could keep everyone in line even when he wasn't there.

Watching the soldiers fall into formation quickly and solemnly at Lushen's command, he was truly filled with relief this time.

His satisfied gaze swept over the troops, now neatly lined up. They were still somewhat disorganized, but the chaos from moments ago had completely vanished.

Just then, two horses galloped over. They were Lushen and Roslyn.

They reined in a short distance in front of Suleiman, then dismounted swiftly and respectfully.

Lushen knelt, his face pale and solemn. "Please execute me, Lord Suleiman!"

Roslyn knelt right after him, shot Lushen a complicated look, then turned to Suleiman. "Lord Suleiman!"

Suleiman didn't answer at once. He simply looked at Lushen, wanting to hear his reasons from his own lips and understand how he justified what he had done.

After a brief pause, Suleiman spoke in a gentle voice, though beneath that gentleness lay unquestionable authority. "Execute you? Why would I execute you?"

Lushen remained kneeling. Though his face was pale, he made no excuses and admitted what he had done without hesitation. His voice was firm. "I killed Rolf."

"I saw." Suleiman gave a slight nod. "Then tell me, why did you kill him?"

Lushen's expression turned cold.

"This is Lord Suleiman's army. He dared to disregard Lord Suleiman's authority and defy Lord Suleiman's orders!"

He paused, then bowed again.

"I executed him in front of everyone so that they would all know what happens under Lord Suleiman's command when someone disobeys his orders!"

"But I took it upon myself to deal with him, and that could bring trouble upon you, Lord Suleiman. So I am willing to accept your punishment."

Suleiman's face showed unmistakable relief and approval.

He stepped forward and helped Lushen to his feet. "You did well!"

"I have already given the order: anyone who dares disobey shall be shown no mercy!"

"Rolf defied military orders and deserved to die! You didn't hesitate or waver. You enforced military law at once. That was a great merit, not a crime!"

"You two and Old Nicken are the people I trust most!"

"Roslyn! Lushen! Listen to me! You're both soldiers of House Foulkeep! One day, you'll each be able to handle things on your own for me!"

"And when the time comes, you may even have to shoulder the most difficult and necessary tasks for me!"

Lushen and Roslyn listened beside him, deeply moved. At Suleiman's sudden confession of faith in them, their eyes grew red.