The next morning at eight o'clock, a train arrived at the Fortress No. 4 garrison, pulling to a stop with a blare of its whistle.
As the waiting crowd watched, a squad of soldiers disembarked first, forming ranks on either side. They were followed by a handsome officer with a wary glint in his eyes.
He scanned his surroundings, then turned back and said respectfully, "Teacher."
A military boot stepped down, and a man emerged from the train car. He wore a peaked cap, a military greatcoat, and a half-face mask. Although he appeared to be only in his mid-forties, the exposed side of his face was etched with deep wrinkles, and his hair was streaked with silver.
His uniform was immaculate, with the collar and cuffs buttoned tight. The copper buttons were polished to a high shine, and his gaze was sharp as a blade. Outwardly, he was the very picture of an old-school soldier.
