Louis stood in a clearing at the edge of the camp, surveying the troops assembled before him.
Twenty Elite Knights, fifty Official Knights, one hundred and three Apprentice Knights, and four hundred infantrymen in total.
These were all the forces he would take to Clearfeather Ridge.
The soldiers and Knights of Red Tide Fief needed no introduction. They were well trained, and morale was high.
After a long period under his guidance, the unit's average loyalty to Louis stood at 150%.
The forces Joern had brought were also surprisingly orderly.
His bright, silver-trimmed light armor stood out among the crowd, with a contingent of fully equipped Knights and infantrymen behind him.
Count Harvey had clearly invested a great deal in his youngest son, afraid he might die an unexplained death in the Northern Frontier.
There were also a few unfamiliar faces in the crowd.
Louis understood at a glance that Viscount Webster had slipped them into the ranks.
They wore no crests, but their bearing betrayed their origins among the Northern Frontier's old noble families.
Their duties clearly went beyond providing support. Their real task was to monitor Louis.
The one who drew Louis's attention most was an Elite Knight named Bond.
He was a man of few words, with a cold expression and a hand that never left his sword hilt.
He was just a little ugly, nothing like 007.
Though he looked unassuming, Louis, who possessed the daily intelligence system, knew perfectly well that this man was a secret envoy from the Governor's Office.
If Louis did anything to betray the Empire, Bond had the authority to execute him first and report afterward.
So Louis told Lambert and the other Elite Knights to keep an eye on him, lest he suddenly lose his mind and cut Louis down.