Sergeant Fang whistled, not the only one that heard such a claim, "Y'know, if I heard anybody else say that, I'd tell them to lay off the bottle. You've killed a Fulminare with your bare hands, so I'm partial to trusting you."
"If you don't trust him, then you might as well lay down your weapon and welcome the Fulminare in."
Joining the conversation was a figure clad in an all-black combat uniform, draped over by a trenchcoat decorated with an assortment of medals. A rather tall woman of platinum hair and sharp, emerald eyes, straddling the border of middle age; the air around her seemed cold and thin.
"General Faust, Ma'am!" Sergeant Fang immediately straightened himself out.
Every soldier in the lobby did the same, leaving the young man only a moment late in placing his hand over his heart to salute the higher-ranked person. He found himself face-to-face with the General, who studied him at the same height, meeting him eye-to-eye.
