Henry's command was like the beat of a war drum, rousing every man's heart.
The Attendants and officers sprang into action, assembling the army and preparing all necessary supplies for the campaign.
There's a strange quirk in human nature; these Attendants and officers had grown accustomed to the life of constant warfare under Henry.
A brief period of rest was bliss, but prolonged peace made them feel as uncomfortable as if their skin were crawling with lice.
How to describe it? Their hands were itching for a fight, their whole bodies restless.
This was the current state of Henry's entire army, from top to bottom. If other nobles knew of the atmosphere among Henry's troops, they would be consumed by envy, jealousy, and hate.
Henry's army was like a slumbering lion; once awakened, it would display unparalleled fighting strength and fearsome might.
They craved battle, craved victory, and craved the chance to prove their worth on the battlefield.
