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The desert patrol route was narrow, only one column could pass at a time. On one side, Dave 5678, now Commander of his fifty-man patrol unit. On the other side, General Daniel Blackwood, leading part of his new sixty-thousand-man Iron Legion.
Both convoys stopped. Dust clouds settled. Soldiers tensed, hands on their weapons.
Dave stepped forward, voice sharp, pride burning in his eyes.
> "General or not, this is my patrol route. My orders are to guard this pass. You'll wait until I clear it."
His fifty men stomped in unison, their armor clattering, showing loyalty to him.
Daniel dismounted his horse, calm but radiating authority. His insignia gleamed, the crest of a Pillar General—five ranks above Dave, untouchable in status. He stepped closer, his voice cold and thunderous.
> "Commander Dave, you forget yourself. I do not wait for fifty men when sixty thousand march under my banner. You will move aside."
Murmurs rippled through both ranks. Daniel's soldiers tightened formation, shields raised, disciplined like a wall. Dave's men, though fewer, bristled with loyalty—ready to fight if their commander demanded it.
Dave's jaw clenched. He spat to the ground, eyes blazing with defiance.
> "You think a crown of ranks makes you better? I trained you once. Don't forget where you came from, Daniel!"
Daniel's expression didn't break. His hand rose slowly—his men instantly drew their blades, the sound of steel filling the canyon.
> "You trained me. But now I command legions. Move… or I'll consider your unit an obstruction to the Blackwood Union. And you know what happens to obstacles."
The air was thick, soldiers waiting for the spark.
Would Dave step down… or would the canyon witness the first clash between two Blackwood officers?
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