Chapter 55: Desert Bandits
The sergeants all crowded onto the ramparts, watching the cavalryman gallop past, their eyes filled with envy and jealousy.
"That lucky bastard!"
"I used to herd livestock for a lord too! Later, I'll go find Knight Hans and try out. I also want to become that... what's-it-called... winged cavalryman?"
"It's Winged Hussar!"
"I only just realized Ulm's horsemanship is actually so good! Look at that shiny armor; it's practically like a mirror a noblewoman would use."
On the city wall, Marlus silently watched this scene, a somewhat nostalgic expression on his face.
Once upon a time, he too had forged many suits of Winged Hussar armor, each one more exquisite than what this cavalryman wore. But that, after all, was in the past.
Ever since Grand Duke Jagiellon had fallen in battle and he himself had been expelled from the borders of the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth, he had never seen a Winged Hussar again.
