Robson had always been in the habit of being punctual. Ed said they would depart at dawn, so after distributing weapons last night, he had his men go to sleep.
When he woke today, the moon was still over the western mountains, and the east had yet to show a hint of white.
By the timekeeping of Robson's old home, it was about 4 a.m.
As soon as they were awake, Robson had the soldiers quickly use the latrines, then gather for breakfast.
Finally, he had everyone pack three days' worth of dry rations and water. Although the mission was planned to end tomorrow, one had to account for contingencies. Besides, two extra days of rations didn't weigh much.
By the time all this was done, it was nearly 5 a.m. A sliver of white light finally appeared over the eastern plains. Robson knew that a group of high-ranking nobles would surely be part of this operation; if nothing else, Ed's father, Count Offman, was certain to be there.
Robson didn't want to deliberately curry favor with them, but they were his superiors, after all. It was still best to make a good impression.
To avoid being late, Robson rushed to the East City Gate without stopping as soon as he and his men were ready.
But when he arrived, he was dumbfounded.
The autumn wind whistled bleakly through the East City Gate. It was completely empty.
'Weren't we supposed to assemble at dawn?'
...
Around 7 a.m., a dozen or so Knights rode toward the East City Gate. They were not only clad in full Steel Armor, but their horses were also fitted with barding. Most of them were at the 2nd Rank of Bronze. These dozen Knights were the lords of the Sunset Knight Order, the Extraordinary Corps of Sunset Fortress.
Leading them was a middle-aged man, a 7th Rank Golden Knight. A scar on his face marked his identity: Count Offman of the Delio family. Right behind him was his son, Ed D'Elia.
"Ed, I hear you invited your friend?" Count Offman asked, riding at the very front on his large steed.
Ed was his only son with his late wife, who had died during a small-scale Beastmen invasion twelve years ago. Although he later remarried a Viscountess, he still favored his eldest son, always keeping an eye on his progress and providing him with any help he could.
Unfortunately, his eldest son wasn't living up to his expectations, having inherited none of Offman's martial prowess.
"Yes, Father. Don't you always say I should learn to make friends? I believe Robson is a trustworthy gentleman," Knight Ed said. This wasn't just empty praise for Robson; it was a conclusion he had reached after spending the last few months with him.
"Hmph! Yet I see no sign of this friend of yours at the East City Gate. Punctuality is the most basic principle for a nobleman." Count Offman was noncommittal. He had seen plenty of "gentlemen" over the years, and every one of them was a hypocrite.
"Have faith in him, Father. I'm sure he will arrive on time." Knight Ed looked troubled, praying silently for Robson, hoping he wouldn't fail to show.
"We'll see, Ed. You still have a long way to go. Hmm? What's that?"
Count Offman was about to lecture his son as usual when he noticed a unit of elite troops at the East City Gate.
How could he tell they were an elite unit?
First, their morale was different. Each Soldier stood in high spirits, glowing with a vigor that was simply incomparable to that of ordinary peasant levies.
Second was their military bearing and discipline.
As Sunset Fortress was in the north of the kingdom, the frost had already begun to set in by this season.
Yet this group of soldiers stood motionless in the biting wind, arrayed in neat ranks, their gazes fixed straight ahead.
This was the standard of the kingdom's elite forces.
"What's going on? I don't recall ordering the First Infantry Corps here, did I?" Count Offman barked, his brow furrowed.
The moment he saw the unit, he naturally assumed they were the First Elite Infantry Regiment from Sunset Fortress.
"Ha! What did I tell you, Father? That's Robson's unit!" Ed was also greatly surprised when he clearly saw Robson leading the men. They certainly didn't look like this yesterday morning...
But that didn't stop him from gloating to his father.
"Impossible!" Count Offman exclaimed.
"Earl, Officer Robson Odogin of the 12th Regiment, Fifth Legion, reporting to you." Robson had been waiting for a full two hours and finally saw Count Offman's troops. He stepped forward to report.
"Knight, how long have you been waiting?" Count Offman inquired.
"If I'm not mistaken, it should be two hours and fifteen minutes," Robson replied. He had, of course, just made up the minutes, but the actual time was definitely that long, if not longer.
"These are your troops?" Count Offman asked the question that was weighing most on his mind.
"The 12th Regiment of the Fifth Legion, my lord," Robson replied. 'Whose troops could they be if not mine?'
Count Offman felt somewhat ashamed, while Ed, beside him, grew smug.
"Father, just as I said, my friend is not only punctual, but he also has his own methods for managing an army," Ed said with a smile.
"Hah! You know I won't be looking out for you once we're on the battlefield. You've found yourself a good bodyguard, I see," Count Offman scolded with a laugh.
Robson listened from the side, wondering when they would finally set out.
In the end, reality proved that he had overestimated the nobles' efficiency. Aside from Count Offman, everyone else trickled in over the next two hours. Robson could only order his men to rest.
And this was in the Frank Kingdom, a nation perennially at war. He couldn't even imagine what it was like in other places.
'How can we possibly defeat the enemy with this pack of vermin?'
Robson couldn't help but feel pessimistic about this operation, and about his own future. After all, he couldn't defend Sunset Fortress all by himself.
'Whatever. I'll just see how it goes.'
"There are still people missing! The order was for dawn! Why are three men still not here?!" Count Offman's face was as black as charcoal. In the past, this sort of thing was considered normal, but today, there was Robson.
The contrast was a painful one. Only now did he realize what sort of "talent" he had for subordinates.
"But... Earl..." a Baron beside him started, trying to make excuses for his friend.
"Enough! We're moving out! All those cowardly latecomers will be dealt with for disobeying military orders!" Count Offman roared furiously.
The Viscount next to him, seeing the Count's explosive anger, shrank back and stopped trying to persuade him. At the same time, he shot a vicious glare at Robson.
Robson was baffled, but could only attribute it to the fact that exceptional people are always envied.
"Move out! We must reach the Lai River before sunset! From there, we will land a heavy blow on our enemies! Let them witness the iron fist of the Frank Kingdom!" Count Offman roared ambitiously.
According to intelligence, their mission was to intercept a group of Grassland Jackal Wolf People who had advanced too far. This Jackal Wolfman Tribe numbered over 4,000 in total. For this operation, they had now assembled over 3,000 men, plus two formal Infantry Corps.
If nothing went wrong, this expedition was bound to be a great victory, marking the first major triumph on the western front in the last five months.
But looking at the noble lords ahead, who were still chatting and laughing while on the march, Robson felt a sense of dread in his heart.
'These people seem so unreliable, no matter how you look at it...'