If Zhao had intended to wound my pride, it was a fairly decent attempt. There was only one small problem. Staying aboard the ship suited me perfectly, so I had no objections whatsoever.
"I agree with the esteemed Zhao's proposal. Whe… if he fails to solve the problem and finds himself deep behind enemy lines, someone should be there to assume command and salvage the situation."
No, I definitely enjoyed irritating him.
"That will not be necessary," the commander of the operation said through gritted teeth.
"I sincerely hope not."
Smile. It annoys people.
And that was when we were interrupted in the rudest possible manner.
Some fellow in a suit of antiquated armor ripped off his enclosed helmet and charged forward with a spear leveled at the admiral, shouting, "Die, Zhao!" with every apparent intention of creating a highly unauthorized hole in him.
The lunatic wasn't alone. There were several other men in similarly ancient armor, but the guards engaged them immediately. Only the screamer managed to break through.
Zhao, though thoroughly surprised, reacted on instinct—a sidestep, a farewell kick to the backside—and the screaming body sailed over the railing. Since I was standing nearby and the screamer's flight path happened to pass through my area of effect, I reacted just as instinctively, driving a dagger into his liver and accelerating his departure with another kick. The fading scream, followed by a resounding splash, indicated that the lunatic would not be troubling us again.
"What was that?" the admiral asked one of the staff officers.
"We're investigating, sir. Appears to have been a group of saboteurs."
"Search the ship. Arrest anyone who looks out of uniform or is concealing their face," the fleet commander ordered.
"Yes, sir."
"Well then, Herald, General Iroh and I need to prepare for the landing operation. I believe that by the next time we meet, I'll possess a title every bit as impressive as yours. I think Conqueror of the North has a nice ring to it, don't you agree?" With a smug grin, Zhao departed the balcony, accompanied by a distinctly unhappy Iroh.
Dream on.
Still, a little extra caution wouldn't hurt.
Unfortunately, my plan for profiting from the fishies relied on too many assumptions. Earlier, I might have been willing to accept that level of risk, but after personally witnessing the Avatar's capabilities, I was forced to admit that my previous calculations had been overly optimistic and were far more likely to result in defeat—if not outright death.
Which meant it was time to switch to Plan B.
And first of all, send a set of orders to one newly minted commander...
***
Several hours later.
Dusk was settling in. The sunset painted the sea in bloody shades while the moon began climbing into the sky. Another half hour, perhaps an hour, and the waterbenders would receive their boost while the strength of our own troops began to decline.
"Commodore, any news from the admiral?" I asked the chief of staff.
"Negative, sir. He, General Iroh, and the admiral's personal entourage disappeared approximately one hour after the operation began. No reports have been received from the group since."
"I see. What's the situation at the front?"
"Layered defenses, Herald. At present we've taken three walls. The resistance remains fierce, but our numerical and technological superiority is making itself felt. Furthermore, the defenders are making more and more mistakes as time goes on. The enemy is exhausted, sir. If we maintain the current pace, the Pole will fall by midday tomorrow, but..." He glanced toward the darkening sky. "Night is coming."
"And not a word from Zhao and his solution to the moon problem," I said, pretending to think it over. "I have no intention of relying on fortune and the vague plans of an admiral who has vanished without a trace. Order a withdrawal, Commodore. Have the troops demolish any captured fortifications where possible and pull back. We'll continue in the morning."
"B-but the admiral..." Behind us, an almost palpable silence settled. The staff officers had fallen silent and were hanging on every word.
Excellent.
"He may very well already be dead. That is an order, soldier. I accept full responsibility for this decision. Carry it out."
"Yes, sir!" The chief of staff snapped to attention.
Well then, the die was cast. Now it was either glory and decorations or losing my head—quite possibly literally. The agonizing wait began
An hour later, an officer reported that the troops were ready for evacuation. Commendable efficiency.
After ordering a squadron of ten cruisers to cover the retreat with artillery fire—so the waterbenders wouldn't get any bright ideas about striking at the withdrawing troops—I stepped out onto the observation tower balcony. The most critical moment was at hand.
Then something changed.
It was as if the air had grown heavier, while an iron band tightened around my skull. The other warriors and benders, however, showed no sign that anything was amiss. Not yet… A piercing ring echoed through my head, as though someone had shoved it inside a bell and struck the metal with all their might.
"Look! In the sky!" one of the sailors shouted.
I raised my eyes toward the night heavens. The moon seemed to have gone gray, becoming little more than a faint smudge against the darkness. Just in case, I had prepared a set of signal fireworks. It was a small contingency for the absolute worst-case scenario—or perhaps not even a contingency at all, but revenge if the plan failed.
A minute after the moon lost its color, the sea itself seemed to shudder beneath a deafening roar. And then something crawled out of the city.
The thing was the size of the Fire Palace, bathed in an eerie blue glow, and marching with unmistakable purpose in our direction. Fortunately, it still had quite a distance to cover. After completing the evacuation, I had pulled the fleet back a fair way.
Nevertheless, the creature was closing in, and at a rather respectable speed.
(End of Chapter)
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