At the Prefecture City Guard Army camp.
Fang Hu walked through the camp's main gate and onto the training grounds, his face etched with worry.
"Well, if it isn't Squadron Commander Fang. What brings you here? I heard your old wound flared up. Shouldn't you be at home recovering instead of coming here?"
He had only taken a few steps when a young man with a smirk on his face approached him. The man wore a suit of exquisite Locking Fish Scale Armor, with an equally fine Horizontal Blade hanging at his waist.
His exposed palms were delicate, showing no calluses or signs of training.
They looked more like the hands of a pampered young lady from a wealthy family.
A man like that, despite wearing armor and standing in a military camp, didn't look like a soldier in the slightest.
Fang Hu, in contrast, wore only a half-suit of leather armor, with just a few iron plates covering his vital areas.
Yet just by standing there, he radiated a formidable, killing aura.
