Chapter 1633: Big bald head

On the morning of May 31, 1622, the eastern shore of Lake Aosta.
At the same time when the Fijian Corps under the command of General Thomas Convalier, accompanied by the generous and enthusiastic military music, launched an attack on the Midgard Colonial Corps, the desolate trumpet sound was also over the position where the Caledonian Mercenary Corps was stationed. Reverberate.
On the banner waving in the wind, the wild boar totem, which is worshipped by the Caludong tribe for generations, is depicted in rough and sharp strokes.
Bolson, the leader of the Caledon mercenary regiment, a shirtless bald giant, stands at this moment under the big banner, standing behind him four mysterious giants wrapped in capes from head to toe.
Each of these four masked giants is 12 feet tall, which is a bit taller than Bolson, who is a hill giant. He stands quietly there as a sculpture. Occasionally a gust of wind blows and the cloak is lifted. A strong, pungent, breath drifted from these four mysterious giants.
Bolson waved his hand and signaled the subordinate soldier beside him to stop playing the horn.
The convening order has been issued, and according to the usual practice, within three minutes, the five squadron leaders of the Caledon mercenary corps will all come to hear the dispatch of Bolson.
If a squadron leader fails to report in time, it means that the squadron to which this person belongs will change to a more punctual captain.
While still having some time, Bolson decided to trim his appearance.
He walked to the razor boar that served as a mount, took off his proud weapon from the side of the saddle, a large thundering slalom tomahawk, first scratched the blade with his thumb, satisfied with the sharpness, and then fell Holding a tomahawk, using the axe blade as a razor, he shaved his beard skillfully.
Even with Bolson's tall physique, using a battle axe as a razor seems too large, and it's not very convenient.
But he had no better choice.
Bolson's beard, like the body hair growing elsewhere on his body, is all part of the "Barb Seal."
These hairs originate from the blood of the "Virgin Mother" and have been blessed with divine power. They are as vigorous as wild grasses. They grow into beards without shaving in a day, and they have super toughness. The ordinary razor cuts Bolson's beard at all. If you force it, There is no damage to the beard, but the razor will crack.
Only with a sharp enough enchanted weapon can we cut off these strange hairs on Bolson more smoothly.
For some reason, the hair growing on the surface of Bolson's body can be stretched freely, up to five feet when fully stretched, curled up against the skin, and looks only slightly stronger than normal body hair.
However, only Bolson's beard does not listen to the call and cannot expand and contract independently, and will only grow wildly.
Bolson didn't like the feeling of a big beard floating around his mouth. When eating, his beard occasionally twisted into his mouth. It was uncomfortable, so he had to work diligently and use his tomahawk every day— —This is the sharpest magic weapon he can find—shaving and shaving.
Blowing away the stubble in his hand, Bolson touched the smooth chin and cheeks, showing a satisfied smile.
However, when his fingertips touched the top of the same bare head, the smile on his face quickly disappeared.
Bolson didn't like big beards, but he wanted to have long flowing hair.
Unfortunately, Bolson's family has a long tradition of male hair loss. His father and grandfather, as well as almost all male relatives of closer ancestry, could not escape the fate of early baldness.
Even the "Barb Seal", which can stimulate the rapid growth of hair, cannot save the destiny of the male members of the Bolson family, it is like a vicious curse.
Bolson touched the egg-like smooth brain and sighed in depression.
Whenever this happens, he is particularly envious of his sister. Not only does Queen Huaiya have the tyrannical power beyond his reach, as a woman, she is also not affected by the family's hair loss genes and her hair grows very well.
There were rapid footsteps behind him, and Bolson knew that his five deputies had arrived without looking back.
The Caledonian mercenary regiment consists of five squadrons. Each squadron includes 60 hill giants. The first squadron is Bolson’s personal guard, and the remaining four squadrons undertake the missions of defense, stone throwing, assault, and attack.
The five squadron captains were all powerful officers personally selected by Bolson. Not only did they have outstanding strength, loyalty and reliability, they also overcome the free and procrastinating nature of the hill giants and developed a good habit of punctuality-this is Bolson's most important advantages.
Slowly turning back, Bolson's eyes swept over the four giant men standing side by side in front of him, frowning.
Only four people came to report on time, but the fifth squadron leader was absent.
Bolson stroked his smooth chin, his eyes flashing with anger.
"What's going on with "Yuya" Cook? Does he want to be the squadron leader?"
The other four squadron leaders quickly exchanged glances. After a short hesitation, the first squadron leader coughed twice and spoke openly.
"Brother, on our way over, we passed the camp of the Fifth Squadron and found that there were chickens and dogs jumping, a mess, and fierce fighting sounds, it seems... coughing, causing internal strife."
"Infighting?!"
Bolson couldn't help but get angry.
At this juncture of killing the enemy, there are still people in his army who dare to make infighting, and he does not take his boss as a sight!
Bolson became more and more annoyed, and decided to go to the camp where the Fifth Squadron was stationed to see for himself, what the heck of fooling was fooling around.
Not long after, Bolson took the four squadron leaders to the camp where the fifth squadron was stationed, and heard the harsh noises and faint exclamations from far away.
This chaotic scene deepened Bolson's displeasure, his face somber as if to freeze.
With his hands on his back, he walked into the camp with his head high and saw a lot of giant hills in a circle, all extending their necks and looking forward, as if watching the lively scene.
Bolson approached the crowd and coughed heavily.
The onlookers turned around and looked at Bolson's gloomy face. They all screamed in awe, and nodded and bowed their heads in greeting.
Bolson ignored these flattering guys and shook his fingers expressionlessly.
The hill giant was mostly stupid and dull, grinning, staring blankly at Bolson, puzzled.
Fortunately, the squadron leaders behind Bolson were clever enough to understand the boss's intentions in time, gestured secretly, and winked, reminding the group of stupid people across the board to flash away quickly.
The dull big guys finally rushed back before Bolson became angry, and hurriedly retreated to both sides to make way for the elder brother to reach the center of the crowd.
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