In the castle on the southern slope of Iowa Pass, Pete Bristle-Wolf kept counting off how difficult it was to manage a troop of more than four thousand. From the way he described it, it was far harder than the Gallop Knight Order defeating the Ratman army.
Lannia listened to her husband speak. Though she frowned a little, she did not expose him. As she saw it, this was already the problem she had faced every day all these years; she had no idea what there was to complain about.
Landen looked at Pete with a beaming smile, then looked at Lannia, and roughly understood what was going on.
Though Pete Bristle-Wolf could call the wind and summon the rain in the Salt Mine, ever since the Salt Mine had been liberated, he had become Lannia's add-on and bodyguard.
Now, watching his old companions from the Salt Mine—Alf Fate, Kenan Doles, and the others—become Senior Knights one after another, while he himself sank day after day into wine and women, unable to raise his knight rank no matter how he tried, and unable even to lead an immigrant team properly when he wanted to change careers and become an administrator, his belly was naturally full of bitter water.
"Pete, you've been a knight following me since the Salt Mine," Landen waved a hand, cutting the knight off. "Now a lot of the Junior Knights from back then have become Intermediate Knights, and someone like Neil is almost at Senior. You used to be a Senior Knight, so why have you never managed to recover?"
"My Lord, I..." Pete scratched his head, too embarrassed to continue. Back then, he had been the knight with the most wives in the Salt Mine. Later, before they occupied the Iron Mine, relying on his