Chapter 1531 (2/2)

Yet as they trooped forward, Raymund felt his chin slowly rising. He took longer, more confident strides. A week ago they had faced and defeated a batch of recruits five times their number. And now, after the hellish training they just recently endured, Raymund was filled with the ridiculous notion that even if every other recruit attacked them together, they would still be able to defeat them.

But that might simply be dazed exhaustion inflating an otherwise legitimate bit of confidence, Raymund shook himself slightly. He couldn’t help but attempt a similar glance to the one that he had seen from both Overseer Helen and Head Drill Sergeant Ghosthound as he regarded the competition. He quickly scanned the surrounding sea of silent recruits as the elite squad moved through the waiting crowd right to the front. Such a numerical disadvantage is likely insurmountable. There are one hundred ninety-nine thousand of them.

...Yet aside from the Drill Sergeants, I cannot spot a single image that intimidates me amongst-

Raymund blinked and rapidly withdrew his very obvious inspection, suddenly realizing that he had been staring directly into the eyes of a Drill Sergeant across a sea of bodies between them. That very Drill Sergeant appeared to have noticed Raymund’s gaze several seconds ago and was now red-faced with fury. As Raymund flushed and looked at the ground, there was a rush of noise as the Drill Sergeant rushed toward-

“Is there a problem?”

After flinching, Raymund looked upward. The other Drill Sergeant, a squat humanoid with suddenly very red skin and four arms, had charged over toward Raymund. Somehow, the Ghosthound had sensed his approach and interposed himself between them. Although Raymund’s heart was pounding, he couldn’t help but feel strangely relieved as he looked at the Ghosthound’s broad back.

“Teach your recruit some manners.” The other Drill Sergeant snarled. “Or if you don’t have the balls, get the fuck out of my way and I’ll-”

“Which of us the Head Drill Sergeant?” The Ghosthound asked. He raised his right hand and jabbed his finger into the chest of the other Drill Sergeant, sending him stumbling backward. While the aggressor’s face was suddenly slack with shock, likely due to how easily he was pushed around, the Ghosthound stepped forward again. “I know my job. And my place. Can you say the same?”

“You-” Apparently this Drill Sergeant’s temper was more dominant than his sense because he stepped forward and whipped his arms sideways to knock the Ghosthound’s hand away. Almost immediately, something changed in the air; Raymund couldn’t see it, but he felt the Ghosthound’s emotions instantly condense to a vicious blade.

And when the other Drill Sergeant pressed his arm against the Ghosthound’s… it just passed through the Head Drill Sergeant’s limb without any resistance.

Without missing a beat, the Ghosthound reached forward with that flickering right arm and seized the Drill Sergeant’s throat with his suddenly very solid and strong fingers. As he lifted the unfortunate soul of the ground, whose expression was frozen in the face of a fish being dragged to the butcher’s table, the Ghosthound’s left arm came up. Strange, angular black armor formed around his suddenly massive limb as he made a fist.

That relief in Raymund’s chest rapidly turned into a stunned panic. He’s about to smash that man’s skull like a melon-

“Head Drill Sergeant Ghosthound,” A sweaty looking Superintendent Xeruth was suddenly standing next to the Ghosthound, his hands held aloft like he wanted to stop the Ghosthound’s movements but was scared actually touching him would set him off. Raymund could see drops of preparation on the Superintendent's pale temples. “This… isn’t this just a misunderstanding? Drill Sergeant Pooual just made a mistake. Isn’t that right?”

“I-” The Drill Sergeant hissed through his teeth, emotions warring across his face. Yet fear had quickly overtaken anger. Apparently he was also aware of how close he came to being wiped from existence due to this casual confrontation. But before he could come to any conclusion, Raymund heard the Ghosthound’s voice, seeming to radiate from the Head Drill Sergeant’s back.

“Oh? You were going to apologize? Then I suppose everything is fine.” The Ghosthound said.

“Apologize?!?” Drill Sergeant Pooual’s skin rapidly flared back to red.

But Superintendent Xeruth felt no such qualms about putting his hands on this lesser Drill Sergeant. His hand clamped down on the man’s shoulder. “Yes. Apologize to the Head Drill Sergeant.”

For several seconds, the entire assembly was silent. The near two hundred thousand soldiers looked on at the confrontation. Standing right near the epicenter, Raymund could just barely touch on the slightest inkling of the emotions passing between those two powerful men. And from what he could tell... The Ghosthound believed he had already won so strongly that he was gradually changing the Drill Sergeant’s mind.

His confidence cut even more deeply than the image power he had displayed.

Although his skin was so red that blood might be welling up from every pore, the Drill Sergeant lowered his gaze. “...I apologize.”

The Ghosthound just snorted. Then he turned away without even acknowledging the man’s words. “Let’s get going. We’ve wasted enough time here.”