Camp outside Hebron City.
After a day of drills, the farmer soldiers scattered back to their respective barracks.
A young farmer soldier took off his boots and aired out his calloused soles: "We're leaving tomorrow, and I don't know how many of us will come back."
"Are you scared?"
"Not exactly scared, just feels like we've only drilled the formations and practiced stabbing, and with such little time, going to battle seems a bit hasty."
"Heh, we veterans of the Black Eagle Banner Team had even less training time than you, and didn't we follow the lord to capture Alandler City and Eira Port?"
"If you're scared, just say so. Our Black Eagle Banner Team doesn't accept cowards."
"Exactly, you still have a chance to quit now. If you hesitate on the battlefield and say such demoralizing words, watch out, Lord Stark of the Supervision Team might cut you down."
The person fell silent, grumbling.
