forming a hundred-man squad to receive instruction from our commanding officers.
It seemed as if the officers' minds were barren, their days filled with nothing but barking and scolding,
always clutching a whip in their hands with the tip perpetually pointing upwards,
ready to descend upon the buttocks of some unfortunate recruit at any moment.
In such days, it was inevitable to set examples for the greenhorns.
The power of role models is boundless, and the number of role models is infinite...
The officer is a treasure trove, using the whip only for humans, reserving kicks for werewolves, and punches for mountain dwellers,
while the elbow, encased in iron armor, is a privilege reserved for barbarians.
In the days that followed, the Wanderer understood that being an "example" on the first day was not at all undeserved.
During the training period, the number of rookies who managed to avoid being hit by sheer luck was extremely rare.
Whether they did well or poorly, they would be hit; and if they did nothing at all, well, you had better take care of yourself..
Apart from the physical punishment, the officers' language was nothing short of masterful.
If it weren't for their military service, the rookies would never have known the charm of the language they were so familiar with.
Typically, the officers would use vulgar and colloquial language to address the rookies themselves.If a rookie made a mistake, the scope of their remarks would expand to include the rookie's family.
If a rookie angered the officer, then the range would instantly extend to all of the rookie's relatives,
everyone who knew the rookie, and everyone the rookie knew...
The breadth and force of their verbal attacks were unmatched by ordinary mental magic.
Blazing Paradise and Wanderer grew up in the same village, a place renowned for two peculiar things within the Magic Alliance.
One was the grapes used for crafting the finest red wines, and the other was the fierce shrewd women,
a history of which seemed to be more ancient than that of the grapes.
However, both unanimously believed that all the shrewd women in their village, no,
in the entire town combined, were not half as formidable as their commanding officer.
Consider this: the heroes who returned home in glory, able to silence an entire street of shrewish women with nothing but their tongues,
without relying on their fame, indeed had their reasons.
Each word spoken with a resounding impact, each simple and direct term, and even the slightest change in intonation,
could leave the scolded rookies gaping and blushing with embarrassment, wishing they could dig a hole and bury themselves on the spot...
It wasn't that no one had ever resisted; there was a brave rookie in Wanderer's team who did.
The direct consequence was that he lay on the witch doctor's foul-smelling sickbed, blissfully unconscious for a whole day.
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