But nothing beyond this battle mattered any more to Zilan. If it be war against his lessers, then he would win that war.
"You," he said pointing to one of his Rogue Commandants. "You will command this army in my place."
If there was a risk to be taken, then General Zilan was determined to take it. He removed the fetters of politics that limited him. Rogue Commandant Torn was a man to be trusted. He was a man that General Zilan had seen brought up through the ranks himself. He wasn't a man merely at his side for the sake of someone else's marriage. There was true competence in the manner.
Leaving his army of thousands in the hands of a trusted subordinate, General Zilan put his heels to his horse, and he left through the ranks of men. Just a single General, and the sword that he had brought with him. That was the tool, the great gamble, that he was determined to use to upset the advantage that Oliver Patrick had managed to stake. The great weight was none other than himself.
