Henry was no longer facing a manpower shortage. These men, who had never undergone his "loyalty" training, were of little use to him, yet it felt like a waste to simply discard them.
Henry summoned several new recruits and had them drive the three men away, completely ignoring their pleas for mercy.
Henry beckoned one of the new recruits closer and ordered in a low voice, "He insulted my honor and my dignity. Make them disappear."
Henry didn't want anyone who insulted him to continue living, but he couldn't say so openly. It would be unbecoming of a noble.
The new recruit nodded. "Great Lord, I'll make sure they die in an alley."
After the new recruits had escorted the three Scouts away, Bain snorted coldly and said, "My lord, these spearmen and Scouts have been flaunting their past achievements, swaggering around and bossing the new recruits around.
"You should have told them to get lost a long time ago. They're not even as reliable as these new recruits. Of course, I'd rather call them infantry now."
The New Recruit Team's combat abilities had earned Bain's approval. They were all qualified soldiers, and in his eyes, they could no longer be called new recruits.
"Go tell the others what happened to those three. If anyone else wants to leave, tell them to get lost immediately... and that includes the Heavy Cavalry."
The news quickly spread throughout Henry's encampment. Philip hurried over to apologize to Henry, guaranteeing that the remaining soldiers were all loyal and qualified members of his Private Army.
Henry looked at the bowing, submissive Philip with a flicker of satisfaction in his eyes.
"Very good. I hope you remember today's promise."
Philip straightened up and saluted.
"As you command, my lord."
After Philip left, Henry said to Bain, "Don't just stand around. Go with Orianna and buy some peaches and watermelons."
"You got it!"
Henry had eaten a bit too much that day, so he went into the city for a walk to aid his digestion. He ended up watching the evening opera at the women's theater. As he was a Powerful Nobility, the theater provided him with a private box and their most sought-after performers.
How to put it? It was a little *too* wild. This kind of vulgar performance had to be criticized! Henry "criticized" it until eleven at night before swaying his way back to his tent.
"My lord, you've had too much to drink. You shouldn't bathe. I've prepared your tooth powder. You should get some sleep."
Henry drifted off to sleep in a daze and wasn't woken by Ailia until the sun was high in the sky the next day.
"My lord, it's time to wake up."
"What time is it?"
"Eleven o'clock."
Henry quickly got up to wash his face and stretch his limbs.
"What's for breakfast, Ailia?"
Ailia sighed and replied, "It's lunch, my lord! Vegetables, buttered bread, potatoes, and meat broth."
Soon, as Henry was sitting in his tent enjoying his meal, Claude ran in.
"My lord, an officer is here to see you."
Henry frowned. Why was it that every time he was about to go out and have fun, or was in the middle of a meal, someone would show up to talk business?
'Does eating trigger some kind of quest? This is ridiculous.'
A moment later, an officer walked in, wearing an imperial full-face helmet and the Zha Armor of the Imperial Armored Cavalry.
On closer inspection, one could see a layer of Chain Armor and Leather Padding Clothing beneath the Zha Armor. Over it all, he wore a cloak bearing the Legion Banner.
"Honorable Knight, Quartermaster of the right-wing supply train, greetings. I apologize for interrupting your meal, but I must speak with you now. We march tomorrow, and you will need to take over the quartermaster duties shortly."
"Understood. I'll find you shortly."
Henry quickly finished his meal, put on his imperial tunic, and took Bain with him to take command of the right-wing supply train.
The Seventh Legion's camp was far more orderly. It was divided into designated areas by troop type, organized into battalions of five hundred and companies of fifty. It was a vast improvement over the chaotic mess of the nobles' private armies.
An aide immediately came to greet him. "Lord Quartermaster, the supply train has four hundred carts and over four hundred Auxiliary Soldiers. Here is the supply ledger."
Henry took the ledger, skimmed through it, and asked, "Why is it all potatoes and pearl rice flour? And why is there so little oil and salt?
"During a war, soldiers need to eat rice, cheese, grapes, and meat."
The aide gave an embarrassed laugh. "Sir, the previous Quartermaster embezzled the funds for the food. The money has all been spent and can't be recovered."
"Then what about the last Quartermaster? Where is he? Where's his head?"
"He ran... We're currently hunting for him."
Henry thought for a moment, then asked, "Does the Legion Commander know about this? Does the right-wing commander know? Do the soldiers of the right wing know?"
"The Legion Commander knows, the right-wing commander knows, but the common soldiers do not."
Henry laughed in fury. He grabbed the aide by the collar and said viciously, "Now, you will take this ledger and go tell those soldiers, company by company, battalion by battalion, that the previous Quartermaster embezzled their food funds.
"And I have no obligation to replace their rations!"
The aide shuddered in fear and stammered, "Sir, if you do that, it will cause unrest among the troops! The Legion Commander will..."
"I don't care!"
Soon, news of the food shortage spread through the right-wing's camp. Thousands of battle-hardened Warriors flew into a rage, and the new recruits joined in the outcry behind them.
The right wing was composed of six battalions—a full three thousand men! Half of them were veterans. When they started to cause a commotion, even the officers were hesitant to suppress them directly.
A large number of soldiers and officers converged on the logistics area, demanding an explanation. Henry sat atop a cart, watching the furious soldiers, feeling immensely irritated.
The Elite Armored Cavalryman from earlier found Henry and questioned him in front of the crowd, "Sir! What you've done has gravely affected the morale of the troops!"
Henry snorted. "And what of it? Are you going to court-martial me?"
Henry stood up and declared loudly, "I am an Independent Noble! You dare raise your voice to me?"
The officer was stunned for a moment, then hastily dropped to one knee. The other soldiers, who had been raising their fists and demanding answers, also quieted down and knelt one by one.
The imperial laws were very clear about offending a noble. It was a crime that would most likely cost you your head.
"Tell your Legion Commander that he was the one who invited me here, and I can leave at any time. Don't forget, I am the lord of Westwood Laine, a Vassal of the King, and... a student of the Dean."
"If Count Sebastian expects me to cover your supply shortfall, I will personally take my sword and cut off his head and the heads of his entire family! I will take his skull to the Royal Capital and let the Dean pass judgment!"
The officer and the other soldiers scrambled to their feet and left. What Henry had said was simply too terrifying.
In their eyes, Count Sebastian had always been their Legion Commander. He had held the position for a full thirty years, and no one in the army had ever dared to defy his orders.
The incident sparked a wave of discussion throughout the entire Legion. Some veterans even started placing bets in small groups on who would lose more face—the Legion Commander or Henry.