Tristan led them to a communal tent near the wall, deliberately choosing the largest one for the Commander General and his entourage. Still, it was a far cry from what the man had been expecting. His face darkened the moment he stepped inside. No villa. No plush accommodations. Just a large tent with firm cots and the bare essentials.
It was exactly what his attitude had earned, and a clear message: no one here was impressed by his title.
"This is outrageous!" the Commander General snapped, his face flushed with anger. "Do you think this is how someone of my rank should be treated? You clearly don't respect me at all!"
He was seething, too furious to form a coherent argument, sputtering more from wounded pride than any real grievance.
