Upon hearing not even a trace of arrogance in his voice the deputy Captains assigned to Frost and their nearby Sergeants couldn't help but smile before responding with their valuable insight.
"Certainly Major, we won't steer you wrong." A Captain by the name of Johnson, a well built beastman of the bear tribe slammed his oversized hand against his chest. The man was nearing middle age, stood well over 2 metres, had white fur lining his skin and a brutal exposed scar marring his chest.
He was a talented and well experienced officer among the War Ursa Battalion's vanguard, a perfect choice to aid Frost in his toe dipping.
"The soldiers under your command Major Frost comprise of 1000 E-ranks, 400 D-ranks, 80 peak D-ranks/ half step C-ranks and 20 full blown C-ranks." 1500 men and women who bravely stood stalwart against hundreds of thousands perhaps even at times millions of enemies without blinking an eye.
