Vaerik closed the intelligence panel, got up to wash and dress for the war meeting.
He changed into dark gold embroidered noble formal wear, sword belt diagonal, boots polished bright.
Such occasions required proper attire—at least looking like a young hero.
He pushed open his tent flap, heading straight for the military camp's center.
Along the way, many knights and young officers who saw him looked with awe or curiosity, bowing respectfully.
After all, his feat of killing Snow Swearer elite warriors at last night's banquet had spread throughout the Fifth Legion.
Soon Vaerik reached the central command tent.
Guards stood solemnly outside with rows of Snow Peak Prefecture noble family banners on both sides. Familiar and unfamiliar faces were entering successively.
