I'm Stealing This Pot!

||1.8|| - The Honourable Traitor

The last echoes of the cannons fade from the battlefield; smoke still rising into the sky.

"Their time is up; since they still haven't made a decision, there is no need any longer."

A man stands solitary at the front of the army he commands, his face indifferent. As he raises a hand to order their final assault, he was suddenly blocked up the Lieutenant to the side: "Matthew, what are you going to do?"

"Obviously, I am calling for full fire; these reprobates have pushed their boundaries enough with their challenging of our government's dignity – do you really intend to keep giving ground?"

Matthew's stare was proud and reserved, a momentary flash of gloomy displeasure in his eyes.

Incensed by the self-confidence in the man's tone, the Lieutenant narrowed his eyes and stepped forwards, trying to suppress his volume: "You know that the Marshal is still in there!"

"Of course I know. However, I have confidence that, considering the Marshal's military background and abilities, it will be impossible for him to allow himself to be hurt in a simple frontal attack such as the one I will order."

Methodically removing the gloves from his hands, Matthew lifted a corner of his lips and looked towards the Lieutenant's eyes – burning with the force of his anger: "Do you really have so little faith in our Marshal, Lieutenant Nua?"

"You-"

His question had, frankly, been cunning and designed; the Lieutenant would never refute his trust in the Marshal, but any expression that suggested so would be taken as permissive of the other man's orders.

With the Marshal's current injuries, it would be impossible for him to escape the following fire.

But if the truth is disclosed, the other would only reason that the Marshal would be best recovered; after ushering him into rehabilitation, he would then take the opportunity to assume the other man's vacant station.

The years of service in the Marshal's shadow meant that the Lieutenant is clearer on this matter than anyone else; just how much of his lifeblood the Marshal had spent in the struggle for his position, and the significance he holds it in.

Locked onto the other's satisfied expression, the Lieutenant felt the touch of rage in his breaths, a faint shade of blood screening his eyes.

A mild delight spreading across his face at the other's silence, Matthew's words betrayed his pleasure: "Very good; listen to my command, begin-"

"I would advise you to withhold your order for now, Matthew."

A flat voice calmly interrupted him.

The men and women gathered around the officers turned towards the one who had spoken, surprise alighting on their faces.

Treading the ruins of constructions long past, Dana approached them, his steps languid; steady. His body was secured under a thick cloak; a somewhat unusual paleness could be seen in his face, but his eyes remained serene, glinting with light.

"Marshal!"

The Lieutenant's eyes lit with a sudden fire, and he rushed forwards to support the other man, but Su Shi held his arm lightly back, meeting his eyes with a hint of a reassuring smile.

Matthew's expression shifted to one of almost imperceptible irritation; he unwillingly moved to greet the returned man.

The previous argument between the two officers had been quiet; the surrounding soldiers had not been aware of the contents of their conflict. But to see their Marshal emerge from the target of an assault which had been seconds away from initiation; when the soldiers looked once more to Matthew, their stares had somewhat soured.