A month passed by imperceptibly, and at some point, the elite students of the Iron Blood Cavalry Camp had changed. They all bore more or less some scars, their skin was tanned, but their aura was completely different from before.

The pride in their eyes had turned into coldness.

Although unintentional, when they saw someone, they couldn't help but reveal a wolf-like hunger in their eyes.

Now, among the three hundred, even the most timid could effortlessly kill ten criminals without blinking. Having survived countless tortures, they had turned into men resembling fierce wolves. While their temperaments and personalities remained the same as before, each person's strength had significantly improved compared to the past.

Rody's greatest gain was learning how to train Iron Blood soldiers through his own experience.

From Instructor Wood and General Quentin, he learned a lot, especially about the power formed from unity, collective effort, and discipline, which he had always lacked. Now, he felt that if he could take these lessons back to Felick and train soldiers, combining them with his own mental magic, he was confident that the soldiers he trained would be no less elite than those of other countries.

Although Rody never thought of becoming a general or a lord, he yearned to have his own private army.

A private army completely loyal to him, not like the slaves of darkness, but living beings who could do more things that only intelligent life forms could do. Rody had a feeling that to defeat the mastermind who used forbidden magic and martial arts to seal him in the past, personal strength alone was not enough. He needed to have a powerful army, one that could deter enemies, one that could encircle and annihilate the enemy.

If facing a powerful individual, Rody could defeat them with his continuously improving personal strength.

But what he needed to face might not be just a strong individual, but a nation, or even more than one nation, possibly even the gods. Therefore, he needed more support, a powerful army that could level everything.

He was still far from having his own army, almost an unreachable distance.

Moreover, Rody currently lacked something very important: battle experience. This wasn't about one-on-one combat, but the experience of fighting in a battlefield with tens of thousands of soldiers. He had no experience in commanding large armies, not knowing when to advance or defend.

He needed more experience, more learning.

The one-armed swordsman Gavin once said: Among ten Archmages, eight have been through a magic academy, and nine have been on the battlefield. This shows how much battle-hardening influences a person's growth. The reason Rody risked coming to Norn was to learn more and absorb combat experience under the protection of human armies, turning it into a source of nourishment for his growth. Rody believed that one day, he would have the opportunity to lead an army, to be a decision-maker leading an army against enemies. Before that day comes, he must grow.

"Hey, Rody, how come everyone has scars like a flower turtle, and their skin is darker than a cow dung turtle, but your little face is still so white and tender?" Stanley suddenly noticed the difference in Rody's complexion and asked in surprise, "What's going on with you?"

"Envious, what skincare products do you use?" A guy who cherished beauty squeezed over, eagerly asking.

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"Dragon blood!" Rody said, causing everyone to faint.

"You're just bragging! Why don’t you say your thing can turn corners?" Stanley's words were tinged with jealousy, sounding sour.

"Quiet, everyone, quiet!" Jesse stood on a table and shouted, "I have a suggestion. Apart from badges, every cavalryman should have a cool tattoo, like the Iron Blood Cavalry Camp’s crossed swords, the Iron Sword Cavalry Camp’s sword and shield, the Roaring Cavalry Camp’s iron fist. I think we should also get one to commemorate our training here. What do you all think?"

"Yeah..." The crowd erupted in cheers, with many agreeing.

"I don't think it's a good idea!" Rody spoke up, surprising everyone who didn't expect him to disagree. He extended his arm, lightly cut it with a dagger, and everyone saw blood oozing out but quickly being reabsorbed, leaving a bloodstain that healed at a visible speed, leaving the skin as white and smooth as before.

Everyone was stunned, their mouths wide enough to fit a kodo beast.

Jesse fell off the table with a thud, not even feeling the pain. Stanley got up to look and forgot he was sitting on a bed, hitting his head on the upper bunk and bending two steel bars, completely unaware.

"You freak, do you have the immortal body of the legendary Phoenix?" Stanley exclaimed excitedly.

"No, if your skin is burnt by black dragon blood, it will become like mine," Rody smiled, "I think instead of tattooing a badge on the arm, it’s better to make a magical badge. An orc’s axe won’t spare you just because you have a pretty tattoo, but if you have an enchanted magic badge, it might save your life in a dangerous moment. What do you think?"

"That's certainly better, but making magic badges costs a lot, and no one here knows how to enchant!" Jesse felt the idea was unrealistic due to financial constraints.

"Cough, cough, everyone, please note, you're talking to a wealthy man," Rody said lightly.

"Hero of Felick, your shoes are dirty, let me clean them for you! If you have any orders, just command your servant. Everyone here is willing to serve you!" Stanley fawned again. Everyone despised him, mainly because this seemingly foolish guy was too quick to seize the opportunity to fawn over someone.

"I’ll advance three hundred gold coins for everyone, but in return, I want half of the total income from any spoils of war, if there are any!" Rody chuckled.

"Deal!" Stanley, worried that Rody might change his mind, quickly agreed.

"One gold coin per magic badge is just about manageable... but enchantment is still a problem!" Jesse said with a headache, "Because everyone has different attributes - wind, fire, water, earth - enchanting is not easy. At the very least, we need enchanters from all four elements, and I'm afraid that's not something three hundred gold coins can solve! Rody, do you know how to enchant?"

"No." Rody certainly knew how to enchant, but he couldn’t reveal all his abilities; it would be too astonishing.

"Why doesn't anyone ask me?" Suddenly, a clear voice like spring water flowing over stones gently rang out, calming everyone’s hearts. A young man even more handsome than Rody came in, smiling, "I can enchant, and I know all four elements! You don't have to worry about such trivial matters as enchantment. I can enchant weapons and armor for everyone!"

"Hooray..." The crowd cheered.

"Wait, who are you?" Stanley, happy for a while, suddenly realized that the person before him was a stranger whom he didn't recognize.

"I'm Kristin, but you can call me Chris. Starting today, I'm your comrade!" The handsome young man bowed politely to everyone and led the applause, and some people, seeing his extreme handsomeness and agreeable nature, couldn’t help but warmly welcome him.

"Hey, you sissy, who authorized you to come here? Is this a place for you?" Stanley said arrogantly.

"I did!" General Quentin with the mustache and Instructor Wood stood behind everyone.

"That's a very wise decision!" Jesse joked, "I knew this young man had the qualifications just by looking at him. I, on behalf of everyone, welcome you!" But Chris didn’t shake hands with him; instead, he made himself at home, sitting on Rody's bed, extending his hand to Rody with a smile, "Hero of Felick, it's a pleasure to meet you!"

"I'm tired!" Rody, tossing aside his book, ignored Chris and turned over to sleep.

"This kid is jealous; I'm sure of it. He just can't stand anyone being more handsome than him!" Stanley speculated maliciously.

"Chris, you're staying in the upper bunk above Rody," Instructor Wood said as he carried luggage for him, surprising everyone. Who was this Chris, some prince from a foreign country? He was so extraordinary that General Quentin personally brought him, and even Instructor Wood carried his luggage. Could he be the Pope's illegitimate child? Everyone knew about Quentin's fifth son, Keli, who was in the cavalry camp, but Instructor Wood only hit him with a big slap, and no one would have known Keli was Quentin’s son if a student from Norn hadn't inadvertently revealed it.

Who exactly was this Chris?

General Quentin, ignoring his own son, nodded to Chris, "Settle in. They're all good guys; you'll get used to them slowly!"

Everyone looked at each other again. Even Rody, who was highly regarded by General Quentin, had probably never heard Quentin speak in such a gentle tone. For ordinary people, not getting scolded by Quentin was already lucky.

"Hey, kid, where are you from? Are you some prince of a mighty nation?" Stanley asked curiously after Quentin and Wood left.

"I come from the talented and scenic country of Mesbustania, the same place as Rody. But I'm not from Kolo like him; I'm from the capital, Lyshe," the handsome Chris replied, making everyone green with envy. Mesbustania, such a small country, yet it seemed to be the home of handsome men! Rody was already enough to make people jealous, but Chris was even more handsome, almost driving people to shame.

"What?" Rody, hearing this, was startled and sat up, looking at Chris in astonishment.