"Which spell are you proficient in?"
"Uh, the Fire series."
Hearing that it was the Fire series, Colonel Field chuckled dryly and pointed to Winter's chest, "Take off that badge. Are you afraid outsiders won't know you're a spellcaster?"
It was only then that Winters noticed that Colonel Field didn't wear the badge of the Tri-Circle Association, and he recalled that Major Moritz didn't wear a badge either.
Proud of his spellcaster status, Winters wouldn't have worn that badge every day at the military academy. However, considering that two senior officers didn't wear badges, there must be a reason; he swiftly removed his badge and put it in his pocket.
Colonel Field gazed into Winters's eyes and said in a grave voice, "I have only two requirements, keep a tight lip and follow orders. Meet these two conditions and we'll get along very well. Learn them, and you are a qualified officer."
"Yes, sir!" Winters snapped his heels together, standing at attention once again.
"How are your horse-riding skills?"
"Decent." Read complete version only at NoveI[F]ire.net
"Did you come to the palace on horseback today?"
"No." Winters's home was not far from Army Headquarters, just a short walk away, so there was no need to ride.
"Go to the stables, lead out my horse, and get one for yourself; meet me at the entrance."
Winters really hadn't expected that on his first day as an intern, he would be sent on an outdoor task. Wasn't it said that the job here was easy, just scheduling guard shifts?
He crisply saluted once more and was about to set out.
"Wait!" Colonel Field stopped Winters again, "Where is your sidearm?"
Winters was stunned, "I don't have a sidearm, only a longsword."
"How can an officer not carry a sidearm? Wait here."
Colonel Field quickly walked back to his office. Soon, he emerged with a saber in hand, tossing it to Winters as he said generously, "This is my Dusack, carry it for the time being."
Winters caught the saber thrown by the colonel from the air. The weapon, scabbard and all, felt heavy, even heavier than the longsword.
The blade was slightly curved, about eighty centimeters long, with a simple, curved guard, resembling a cavalry saber. The black wooden scabbard was unadorned, except for the pommel which was carved into the shape of an eagle's head.
He drew the sword a handbreadth and saw that it was sharpened on one side, with a thick spine and thin edge, featuring two fullers along the blade that shimmered with a menacing cold light. There was also the scent of oil.
Without a doubt, this was a well-maintained real deal.
"You can go now," the colonel gestured with a wave of his hand.
Winters nodded, gripping the Dusack, and strode out of the Military Police office.
——— This is the genuine 'catching the blade' line separator———
He left Army Headquarters.
Colonel Field rode his black steed up front, while Winters followed behind on his own military mount, keeping half a horse's length of distance.
On this mission, Colonel Field had only taken Warrant Officer Winters with him, without any Military Police escort.
There were quite a few pedestrians on the road, preventing the horses from galloping, so they proceeded with just a brisk walk.
As they went further and left the city area, where there were fewer pedestrians, Colonel Field no longer deliberately controlled his pace, giving a gentle flick of the whip and nudge of the spurs against the horse's ribs.
With just a light signal, his majestic black horse instantly understood his master's wish, snorted happily, and with a sudden burst of muscular power in its limbs and chest, accelerated rapidly, carrying the colonel at breakneck speed along the suburban dirt road—the black horse, too, felt stifled in the city and was eager for a good, fast run.
The little black horse indeed enjoyed this, but Winters was distressed.
Being naturally taller and larger than the major, even with excellent riding skills, he was not suited to be a jockey.
His horse, provided for officers' communal use by the stables of Army Headquarters, was already less superb than the colonel's black horse and was quite worn from daily use, quickly falling a large distance behind.
After a few strides, Colonel Field realized Winters had fallen behind. The colonel pulled the reins, and his black horse, just warmed up and not yet satisfied with the run, whinnied discontentedly and slowed down.
Winters then caught up, feeling embarrassed. He resolved inwardly to find himself a truly fine horse in the next few days to compete with the colonel.
The two rode the entire way in silence, with the colonel not disclosing their destination and Winters not asking. Yet, the farther they went, the more familiar Winters found the road; he tried hard to remember where he had traversed this route. At last, he recognized it.
Wasn't this the way to the Customs Prison?
Indeed, as Winters had guessed, they stopped at the grand entrance of the Customs Prison—exactly the place Winters had been "invited" to leave two days before.
The colonel handed Winters the reins and walked straight up to the prison's main gate, kicking it hard. His force was so great that the three-meter-tall, six-meter-wide oak doors shook on their frame.
A small door on the larger one opened, and several fierce-looking guards, holding long spears, ran out. They were about to start cursing when they saw the military uniforms and swallowed their dirty words back down.
The leader asked politely, "What can I do for you gentlemen?"
Colonel Field retrieved a sealed letter from his saddlebag and tossed it to the guard, "Give this to the person in charge here; tell him to come out and see me."
The guards exchanged glances, and one of them quickly went to deliver the message.