The Strong Men's Fort

"I don't like this…" a mercenary muttered, his voice drowned by the rhythm of the march. His polehammer followed, among the dozens of weapons that swung as the men went onward.

"No one does," his fellow replied to him.

"Then? We're just gonna let a young boy, with pubic hair that hasn't fully grown yet lead us?" the mercenary asked his fellow yet again.

"Of course not! What do you suggest we do, huh? Attack him one-on-one? That's straight up stupid. Or are you not afraid of his bloody ability?" his fellow responded, stating the truth.

"What if… we jump… him?" through hesitation, a suggestion was made.

"And risk our heads on poles along the walls of the fort?"

"Damn it! You're right!" the merc exclaimed loudly, so loud now that the others turned their heads to him.

Some had a clear expression of disliking etched on their faces.