Lucien's expression darkened, and he tightened his grip on his weapon.
He was extremely furious now, but his anger was not directed at the humiliation he suffered.
Rather, it was because this man dared to disobey the military order Suleiman had just issued to the troops.
But Lucien did not immediately erupt in anger; he simply looked calmly at the burly man:
"What's your name?"
"I'm Rolf! Rolf of Dai Ding City!" The burly man puffed out his chest, seemingly proud of his origin from Dai Ding City. "Understand—? You farmer from Dreadfort!"
Several people around Rolf joined in the jeering, letting out mocking laughter.
Some commotion also began to spread through other parts of the troop.
Suleiman felt quite disappointed with Lucien and sighed inwardly. It was still too early; he had forced things. He had to step forward.
If he couldn't establish absolute authority immediately, this troop would quickly become a disorganized mess again.
But, Suleiman saw.
There were no superfluous words, no premonitory roars of anger.
Lucien drew the longsword from his waist, which he had been gripping tightly, bringing forth a cold glint. A head, still bearing a smile, flew high into the air.
And the crowd gathered around saw that.
Rolf was still proudly holding his head high, a mocking smile on his lips, waiting to see how Lucien would retreat ignominiously.
The people around him were also waiting to watch a good show. They were all dissatisfied that Suleiman had appointed two farmers as leaders instead of them.
But, at the very moment his smile was broadest, Lucien moved.
He took a step forward, his body hunched, and the longsword at his waist was swiftly drawn. There were no specific details to describe, only a sense of power. The blade instantly swept across Rolf's neck.
Rolf's laughter abruptly ceased.
His head flew up, his body hadn't reacted yet, his eyes widened in shock, reflecting Lucien's cold, inverted face.
He felt the world spinning around him, trying to make a sound, but no sound escaped.
His sturdy body swayed, his head severed, and blood gushed out like a fountain, staining the people standing beside him, their armor, and the dirt.
The longsword in his hand clanged to the ground.
After swaying a few times, his body crashed to the ground, and his head flew about a meter away, his eyes still wide as brass bells, unable to rest in peace.
The sudden turn of events instantly froze the clamor of the entire troop.
Jeers, laughter, conversations—all sounds vanished, and everything returned to silence.
Hundreds of eyes, filled with horror and disbelief, stared fixedly at Rolf lying in a pool of blood, and at Lucien standing beside him, his longsword covered in blood.
A thick smell of blood permeated the air, like fear, stimulating everyone's nostrils.
Lucien sheathed his longsword, his movements smooth and calm, as if he had only done a trivial thing.
He rested the tip of his sword on the ground, his hands on the hilt, the blood on the blade reflecting a dazzling red glare in the sunlight.
Soldiers illuminated by that red glare even stumbled backward in fear, falling onto their bottoms.
He raised his head, his cold gaze slowly sweeping over everyone present. His tone was calm, yet it carried a chill that made the souls of those witnessing it tremble, and an undeniable dread:
"Rolf, who disobeyed Suleiman's military order, has been executed."
His voice was not loud, yet it clearly reached the ears of everyone present.
The voice was so calm, yet so terrifying.
Now, people knew why he had asked for the other person's name.
Those who had been jeering or causing commotions were now silent as cicadas, swallowing hard, their faces pale, their bodies even beginning to tremble incessantly.
Lucien stood beside Rolf's corpse, like a judge proclaiming death.
Around him were three hundred temporary soldiers, awestruck by the bloodshed.
"This is the consequence of defying our Suleiman's military order!" Lucien's voice was cold, making Rolf's companions shiver.
"Now!" Lucien's voice rang out again, carrying an undeniable dread.
"Everyone, listen to the order! Form into squads of one hundred and fifty men! Twenty men in a row! Six men in a column! Form a square formation! Line up immediately!"
His gaze swept over every soldier's face, their eyes filled with fear and awe.
The previous arrogance and laxity had vanished, replaced by an extreme, suppressed silence.
In the troop, no one dared to make a sound, and no one dared to stop their steps; fear had overcome everything.
Suleiman stood not far away, witnessing it all.
From Lucien's calm questioning, to Rolf's arrogant provocation, then to Lucien drawing his sword, and finally Rolf's flying head and the blood splattering when he fell.
In just an instant, Suleiman went from disappointment to excitement; his heart pounded in his chest—it was a sense of accomplishment.
A farmer had truly become a warrior!
He needed a helper, not just a guard, but someone who could stand on his own, execute his will, and hold the fort even when he wasn't present.
Watching the soldiers line up quickly and seriously under Lucien's command, this time he truly felt deeply relieved.
His gaze swept with satisfaction over the already neatly arrayed troops. Although still somewhat loose, the previous chaos had completely vanished.
Just then, two horses galloped up; it was Lucien and Hakon.
They reined in their horses not far in front of Suleiman, dismounted swiftly and respectfully.
Lucien knelt, his face pale and solemn: "Please, Suleiman, execute me!"
Hakon knelt immediately after him, looking at Lucien with a complex expression, then turned: "Suleiman!"
Suleiman did not respond immediately, merely looking quietly at Lucien, wanting to hear Lucien state his reasons himself, to hear how he defined his own actions.
After a moment, Suleiman's gentle voice sounded, but beneath this gentleness lay undeniable authority: "Execute? Why should I execute you?"
Lucien remained kneeling, though his face was pale, he offered no excuses, directly admitting his actions, his tone firm: "I killed Rolf."
"I saw it." Suleiman nodded slightly. "Then, tell me, why did you kill him?"
Lucien's expression turned chilling:
"This is Suleiman's army. He dared to disregard Suleiman's authority and scorn Suleiman's decrees!"
He paused, then bowed again:
"I executed him in front of everyone to let everyone know what the consequence of disobeying Suleiman's orders is under Suleiman's command!"
"But I took it upon myself to deal with him, which might bring trouble to Suleiman, so I am willing to accept Suleiman's judgment."
Suleiman's face showed an undisguised sense of relief and admiration.
He stepped forward and helped Lucien up: "You did very well!"
"I have already given the order: 'Anyone who dares to disobey! Kill without mercy!'"
"Rolf defied a military order; his crime deserved death! You did not hesitate, you had no misgivings, and you enforced military law immediately. This is a great merit, not a crime!"
"You two and Nick are the people I trust most!"
"Hakon! Lucien! Listen! You two are both soldiers of my Stinkfort Family! One day you will stand on your own for me!"
"And even in critical moments, you will bear the most difficult and necessary tasks for me!"
Lucien and Hakon listened beside him, their hearts stirred, their eyes reddened by Suleiman's sudden declaration.