A day later
The gathered subordinates of Whitevale looked on in anticipation as Shinsou contemplated carefully what he was going to say, cognizant of the empty chair that had been reserved for Felicity Rhyolite. A lot of what he wanted to speak of concerned her directly, but his words for her would have to wait. The girl had given everything in her first real taste of action alongside him, and the surgeon's report to him that morning confirmed it with a diagnosis of fatigue, so she would need a great deal of rest.

It would be rest that was well deserved.

He reached to pour himself a glass of whisky before swirling the contents and gulping it. He felt that was deserved, too. Setting the empty glass on the table in front, he looked up and found his subordinates' eyes across the oak surface.

“Gentlemen, I will keep this short, but first I'd like to start by putting on record my thanks for yesterday's work .” The Telgradian said, stroking his fingers through his stubble before continuing. “Drexel's assault meant a lot of collateral damage was done to local infrastructure, and as a result, sadly, there were numerous fatalities. That these were numbered in the tens, instead of hundreds, is testament to the efficiency and effectiveness of our people. The funerals for those who courageously gave those lives will take place as soon as our coroner can clear them.”

The summoned generals and lieutenants nodded in silent respect. Shinsou leaned forward after a moment, interlocking his fingers in front of him and resting his elbows on the polished oak, "Now, I'm going to be very clear, and very concise on my next order. Within forty-eight hours, I want the following on my desk. I want a list of Arius's currently suspected whereabouts. I want a list of his other known familiars and associates. I want Storm Veritas called in from whatever shithole bar, inn or brothel he is in, and back here as quickly as Atilla can carry him."

"So, we're finally moving against Arius?" One of the generals picked up a pen and tapped its end against the table.

The Telgradian mused for a second, hoping his delay wasn’t too telling. Though his own people demanded it, Shinsou couldn’t commit to a full assault against his former right hand man directly, as much as he hated to admit it. There was too much conjecture about Arius's whereabouts for a definitive strike or operation. The man wasn't stupid, and had been using assumed names and aliases, a large chain of contacts and connections and Brotherhood gold to avoid detection and move in the shadows.

That said, he knew he could hit the bald headed bastard in other ways. Drexel was one of several powerful familiars that Arius had kept around since the calamity and sent out to do his bidding. Their deaths would serve as both a potent reminder and a warning to the traitor that the net was closing on him, and that his days were numbered. It would also deplete the man's ability to strike from hiding, and the Telgradian was certain that a final flourish against his underworld links, especially those financing him, would flush him out of anonymity.

"We're moving against every resource Arius Mephisto has that we know about,” Shinsou said smartly, sliding a look to the general, "We're going to start by hunting down any remaining familiars, and simultaneously hit his pocket by severing his ties to Corone's criminals. That's why I want as much information as possible - I can't make bricks to crush him without clay. ”

The Telgradian used the moment’s pause to assess the mood. There seemed to be a healthy enough appetite for revenge, and the shared looks and vigorous nodding around the table told him he had support. He didn't need it, but it always helped if everyone was pulling in the same direction. With that, the powerful spellsword donned his coat again from the rear of the chair, a draught biting his skin as he hustled around.

"Sorry to interrupt, Shinsou, but I have a question. I appreciate this may not be the time, but..." One of the congregation, a middle ranked officer from the infantry, raised a hand.

"Go on?" Shinsou nodded.

"We counted two senior officers amongst the dead; a general and a captain. Currently that means that our 95th Foot doesn't have a commanding officer. Do you have any recommendations for a replacement?"

Shinsou paused for a moment, before his eyes flitted to Rhyolite's empty chair.

"Indeed I do. I choose to promote Felicity Rhyolite."

The proposal was met with abject silence, followed closely by a number of confused exchanges and then finally a buzz of low pitched murmuring. The general consensus became very clear, very quickly; the upper echelons of the Brotherhood's elite were appalled.

"Sir, if I may," one of the cavalry's commanding officers now spoke, a bemused look etched upon his creased, ageing brow, "There are many hard working, loyal men and women in the ranks who would make suitable replacements, men and women who have given everything for us for years. I don't doubt you, but I think we can all agree that the issues of trust and respect factor highly in this-"

"You are correct." Shinsou interrupted, his raised hand staying the voices of disapproval, "...in that the issues of trust and respect do factor very heavily in my thinking. That, commander, is why you will continue to trust and respect in my decision making, for I do not make appointments like these lightly. I mean this with the utmost respect, sir, but please do not flatter yourselves into thinking you can divine my motives. There is a reason for everything I do, however unapparent. I ask for your trust in this choice."

The officer sat back, eyes shifting between his comrades and his leader. With a respectful nod, he slid further into his chair and tapped a pen against his palm. The voices of discontent quietened once more.

It seemed like madness to everyone else, but the Telgradian was confident he knew what he was doing. This would be the beginning of the making of his apprentice and the serving forces; a calculated move that would likely create tension in the ranks, at first, no doubt. But under his guidance, and with the pressure of the men under her, the Neanderthal would become something far beyond her own image of herself, and his own men would know something of loyalty.