Page 55 of The Last Dragon (The Great Burn Chronicles #1)
Murmurs drift. Eryca’s shoulders cease to rise up and down, her head dropping low. She then lifts her chin for another question. “Will they be informed?”
My eyes flick back to the general as he draws a slow, deep breath, exhaling it all in a single word.
“No.”
Voices carry, louder now. I glance at the cadets, absorbing the general’s words.
“There’s no need to stir up more panic in the villages,” he says, trying to calm the room—but it’s in vain. “I know this seems dangerous, but I will do everything in my power to keep the villagers and their home safe.”
I grit my teeth. A lie. He couldn’t protect Pirlem.
“How does reducing the defenses outside the villages ensure their safety?” one of the cadets asks, his voice trembling.
“Yes, General—how?” another cadet roars. The room hums with murmurs as I watch the general slowly begin to crack.
“We saw Pirlem!” another young voice yells out. I look at him—the same soldier I threatened at the village, the one who refused to give rations. “It needs help!”
“Yeah!” a female voice cracks. “It was in near ruin!”
“I’m from Pirlem,” a girl yells, brushing her ash-brown hair from her face. “Lived in ruin for as long as I can remember. How will you keep the Front safe if we’re pulling out the defenses?”
Another voice cuts through the din, sharp with frustration. “This plan will get us killed!” His tone is sharp with frustration. A low rumble spread through the room—uneasy at first, then louder.
“Yeah!”
“We need to think of the villagers! They’re the ones dealing with all the labor! All the work, and they starve for it!” More voices join in, overlapping in rising waves of unrest.
“You saw what that dragon did!”
“We’re not ready for this!”
The crowd surges with emotion, shouts echoing off the stone walls as order starts to crack beneath the weight of their fear and fury.
“We cannot do this to them! They’re our home!”
“You’re asking us to trust Scouts who couldn’t even warn us last time!”
“Exactly! We lost half our squad before anyone even saw the beast!” More and more cadets join in. Voices rise from deeper in the room.
“Now the villagers are starving, they need more protection than ever!”
I turn my head and notice Alex flinch, as if he too wants to speak—but his hand curls tightly over the armrest of his chair, anchoring himself in place.
The general clears his throat. “We will send them rations, but we are running low on material. We must think of the best possible solution that won’t lead to the downfall of humanity.
” His voice is calm, strict, and monotone.
But the soldiers—especially the first-years, still too new to mask their emotions—aren’t falling for it.
“Then take some from the Center!” A second-year pushes back from her seat. For a second, it almost seems like the general’s eyes gleam, but it quickly fades. “They hoard everything! It’s about time they gave us more!”
“Yes, we’re the ones who sacrifice everything to keep them safe!”
A chorus of “Yeah!” and “He’s right!” bursts from the crowd, chairs scraping, fists pounding against tables.
The once-orderly room shakes under the weight of boiling frustration.
Cadets stand, shouting over one another, their voices overlapping in a storm of fury and fear.
The air turns electric. It isn’t just disagreement anymore—it’s rebellion simmering beneath the surface.
“Enough!” The general’s voice slices through the uproar like a blade, silencing the room in an instant. “I will not have insubordination in my Corps—nor will I hear doubt in your voices ever again.”
He takes a step forward, gaze hard as steel.
“You think shouting louder makes you right? You think panic and fear will save your families?” He pauses, scanning their faces, letting the weight of his words settle.
“If you want to survive, you will listen. You will fall in line, honorably . You will fight like soldiers, like you are taught, not children throwing tantrums.” The room remains silent—the General taking back his control, though I doubt he ever lost it.
It takes me back to two years ago—a similar uproar happened after the Gate, where hundreds of soldiers were killed. The general continues.
“I specifically said there will be Scouts guarding the outskirts, watching the dragon’s movements,” he repeats this firmly, but as I scan the room, I see not everyone is convinced—not Eryca, nor Ilian. Their village lies furthest out.
“The Scouts will be strategically placed around the borders of each village and every square,” he says, approaching the map.
His body is tense, but he takes a moment to steady himself.
“I understand this may be difficult for many of you to grasp—these past few days have tested us all,” he continues, turning back to face the crowd.
“It may have affected your thinking, your discipline . But I have never once ignored the safety of our villagers on the Front. They are crucial to our survival, and their protection will be ensured.” His voice hardens.
“If you have personal concerns, bring them to your superiors or come to me directly. But I will say this for the last time—I will not tolerate any uproar in the Corps. If you want your family and loved ones to share the panic you just felt, so be it. But know this—I am acting in the best interest of humanity.”
He does have a way with words—so much so that, for a moment, even I almost believed him. But the expressions on the faces of those who have seen the beast remind me that unless you’ve witnessed its form, its state, and its fury firsthand, you’ll never truly understand just how doomed we really are.