At this moment, the chain mail of the centurions had vanished, replaced by pitch - black armor. However, they were without helmets, which lent them a heroic air. Among them, Stavan, a member of the Soga giant tribe, was especially imposing. His entire body was swathed in black steel, looking truly extraordinary.
Despite the limited output of the blacksmith workshop, in nearly two months, thousands of soldiers had already donned standard armor.
As the centurions entered the tent, the people seated at the table were momentarily stunned. Then, they perked up and turned their gazes towards the centurions.
"My lord..."
With their right fists thumping heavily on their chests, the four of them saluted Limon in unison.
Looking at the four fully - armed individuals, Limon nodded in satisfaction and said, "Take a seat."
If the four were to remove their armor, they would surely be admonished by Limon.
