Hope can mean sometimes having to wear the cloak of a Nobleman

[cleanblade]

The scouting expedition past the walls had overall produced results worthy of calling them a success; however, there were certain factors that needed to be considered which Levi himself had no jurisdiction over. Funds were thinning the further they moved to establish their routes from Trost District to Shiganshina, the politics stretching the legion even more than ever before since the Wall had fallen. If the money that they required was cut off, then humanity's hope would be defeated not by the titans, but by humans themselves. Levi, along with many of the others in his squad, had become aware of the tense situation. But surely, Commander Erwin had established a plan that no one else had the foresight to envision.

Erwin had called for his report to be given after the troops had sustained themselves at dinner, and so with crisp, quick steps, his knee-high boots made the tell-tale tapping as he made his way to Erwin's office. The mess hall was still alive with conversation by the time he'd exited, Levi scarcely in a mood to entertain the soldiers' boisterous talk let alone Hange's maniacal raving.

With a push of the door and not so much as a knock, Levi made his way into his commander's sanctuary. "Erwin. You wanted to see me." He spoke with that cool tone customary of the corporal's chilly demeanor, his gaze unwavering as he looked the man in the eye. His readiness for business was no less serious than his reflex to kill, a clearly no-nonsense attitude prevailing from him as he folded his arms across his diminutive chest and stood before his commanding officer's desk.