Two months ago...

In the semi-arid land of Al-Ard —known as the Land in the native tongue— a contested territory of two major forces in the Median sub-continent. Two forces on the opposite side face each other in a soon-to-be battlefield.

Northern medianites call it The Land because it is the only land that matters in the northern Median subcontinent.

The Land, marked by its vast stretches of dry earth and sporadic oases, would become a battle of immense importance. A clash between two rivaling Emirs—Emir Khanadi and Emir Yuza—both kings in the tongue of Median, each vying for control over the strategic Al-Ard region. This arid land was coveted for its precious water sources and its potential as a key trade route of the northern coast.

Every good and merchandise from the distant continent of Essen docked in port-city Bahari was transported through Palm Route in The Land to all over the trade cities in the Western hemisphere.

Palm Route was a bustling trade route, one of the trade cities was Darusalin where merchants from all corners of the realm gathered in the holy city Darusalin to do their business. This convergence of commerce made Darusalin the ultimate trading and holy city, renowned for its bustling marketplaces and spiritual significance.

in addition to the rising numbers of new converts in Lua Light from the land of the Andal—words of the Medianites for the Wessen continent— for the last twenty years that made the pilgrimage in the Palm Route has become more packed than it used to be.

Over the last two decades, business and trade have flourished, transforming the Palm Route into a coveted pathway, anyone who control the Palm Route would become The Emir of Emirs in Median.

Forces come and go.

Civilizations of ancient fought for control over the city of Darusalin, an ancient city of three major religions in the Wessen and Median—Chedaism, Church of Aione, and Lua Light.

The city's unique traits made it the eye of the world—the center of attention of the whole realm. The city was located in the northern part of The Land, near the Neck, a narrow land between Wessen and Median.

Kings fought over Darusalin for power and wealth. Folks fought over Darusalin for faith and belief.

Holy wars were waged for the span of more than three hundred years by the Wessen realm against the Median. The holy war was over for a hundred years or so.

and this time...

Amidst the shifting sands of Median, a transformation was underway that would alter the very fabric of its military landscape. Once, the Emirs had taken pride in nurturing and expanding their own armies, molding them like a blacksmith shaping a blade. But over time, a subtle lethargy seemed to creep in. The Emirs grew complacent, their ambitions dulled by an insidious comfort.

No longer did they invest the same fervor in the growth of their own forces. Instead, the allure of mercenaries had taken hold. These hired warriors, the Jinns, known for their steadfast loyalty, emerged as the sought-after solution to the Emirs' military challenges. In a land where honor and loyalty were held in high regard, the mercenaries of Median stood as the epitome of reliability.

It was not just the Emirs who recognized the value of these devoted fighters. Even beyond the borders of Median, kings and lords sought the services of these battle-hardened souls. The land of the Andal, a distant realm with its own pale-skinned populace, was regulars to these renowned mercenaries. Their reputation for loyalty became a badge of honor, a rarity in a world where allegiances could change like the shifting desert sands.

While in the heart of the Median, warriors had honed their skills to a razor's edge, bound not just by contracts, but by an unbreakable code. Kings of distant lands had come to rely on these skilled warriors to safeguard their dominions and fight their battles. It was a testament to the respect and trust that the mercenaries commanded, a trust that transcended boundaries.

For the Emirs, the embrace of mercenaries was not without its implications. The once-intimate connection between ruler and soldier shifted, replaced by a transactional relationship. Soldiers who were once fellow countrymen, united by a common homeland, now shared a banner for the duration of a contract. While their loyalty to coin was steadfast, questions lingered about the depth of loyalty to their employers' cause.

As the Emirs and Kings of the Andal increasingly turned to these warriors-for-hire, the traditional model of raising armies and fostering a sense of unity evolved. The familiar faces of the homeland fighters were replaced by a patchwork of foreign soldiers, brought together by a shared trade rather than shared values. A mosaic of languages, customs, and allegiances now adorned the battlefield.

Yet, the mercenaries brought an undeniable strength. They brought not only their skills but a reputation for reliability that was unmatched. The Emirs found themselves entrusting these locals and outsiders hired swords with the defense of their realm, and even kings from far-off lands saw fit to secure their kingdoms with the aid of these warriors.

In the end, the embrace of mercenaries was both a strategic choice and a statement about the changing nature of warfare. The Emirs sought victory through their expertise, trading the toil of raising armies for the efficiency of hired swords. It was a gamble, a wager on loyalty and skill over tradition and unity.

As the sun continued to cast its golden light over the shifting dunes, the true impact of this shift in strategy would only become clear with the tides of time.

The two banners that fluttered in the wind told the story of the conflict. Emir Khanadi, determined to solidify his rule over The Land, rallied his forces under the banner of yellow, while Emir Yuza led his army under the fierce red banner. The atmosphere was tense as the two rival forces faced each other across the harsh terrain, the tension mirroring the longstanding rivalry between the Emirs.

Aden, 21 years old, a young skilled Jinn—one of the most elite mercenary groups in Median—served in the ranks of Emir Khanadi's army. His heart burned with excitement as he stared at the sea of yellow banners around him, all decorated with a burning fist as the sigil of his Emir's ambitions.

Aden and each soldier of the Khanadi army were wearing yellow war garb over standard Median light armor with a round funny-looking helmet which was only worn by the Khanadi Emir's army.

Aden adjusted his funny-looking helmet which looked like a chamberpot. He never got used to it's weight. It made his neck stiff because he was with the cavalry and all he did was stand his ground on horseback, watching the battle ensued as he waited for the order from the commander of the cavalry.

In front of Aden's eyes, the battle lines were drawn with infantry as the vanguard forming the backbone of both armies, accompanied by skilled archers in the middle and swift light cavalry by the rear flank.

The dry heat of the land bore witness to this clash of power.

both opposing armies showed up in full force, five thousand infantry and archers with a thousand light cavalry in Emir Khanadi's army while the opposite side, Emir Yuza, had a thousand infantry and archers with four hundred orcs infantry. Unfortunately, the Yuza's army didn't have any more cavalry left.

The odds were not in Yuza's favor, as his military forces had been reduced to just one-fifth of Khanadi's army. However, Emir Khanadi yearned for the war to end quickly, while Emir Yuza was determined to make one last desperate effort.

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As the rivaling Emirs prepared for battle, the winds of war seemed to favor Emir Khanadi. His forces already secured vital water sources and oases, ensuring their stamina and mobility. The initial clashes saw Khanadi's soldiers gaining ground, his light cavalry proving to be formidable, and their tactics skillfully outmaneuvered the opposition.

Emir Khanadi held a numerical advantage, his forces outnumbering those of Emir Yuza. The ranks of light cavalry in Khanadi's army were particularly impressive, a sight to behold as they formed a formidable wave ready to charge.

From the dusted hill overlooking Emir Yuza's army, Aden's horse appeared to be agitated, its eyes wide and flicking back and forth as if something had been unsettling it since their departure from camp.

"Easy, Himar. easy boy," Aden tapped and stroked his battle horse, calming it from the unseen distress.

suddenly they heard rumbling in the distance and then they felt a tremor under their feet, not long after followed by the earth shaking violently.

The horses neighed. all riders worked hard to calm their horses. Everyone tried to not fall into the ground.

"Earthquake!" soldiers screamed out.

"Stand your ground!" Captain Akim relayed the commander's order as the earthquake occurred.

In the distance, the enemy orcs' infantry army was also making anguished noises, yet they managed to remain composed despite their fear. It was a remarkable sight watching these intimidating and formidable orcs tremble in terror.

The dust rose in the air from the army and their soon-to-be battlefield. This was yet another earthquake in a series of earthquakes that had been happening for the past month, the tremors becoming more and more powerful with each occurrence.

It was a brilliant psychological warfare tactic against Yura's army, as their infantry was mostly composed of orcs who had a long and complicated history with earthquakes. Rumor had it that their world had been destroyed by an immense series of quakes they'd never before witnessed.

They had been forced to migrate to this realm as their own world was becoming increasingly uninhabitable.

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After the earth calmed down, three of the opposing army soldiers stepped up into the empty soon-to-be battlefield, flying red colors decorated with a shining sun behind a mountain as their sigil, they are of Emir Yuza's army. They looked like they wanted to challenge the opposing army on Muharezi—a three versus three combat—Median's tradition to start the day in battle.

among the three champions, known as Muharezins, of the red banner soldiers, one strong-built warrior stepped up. The soldier stood between the opposing army with a shamshir and round shield. His eyes screamed his hatred toward the Khanadi army.

"Heed my call you yellow turd inside the chamberpots! is any three —" The strong-built warrior shouted.

"Or at least one of you.." He chuckled. His insult was followed by a mocking giggle from the soldiers behind him.

"Brave enough, to clash steel against us on this unforgiving land! Or are you just a bunch of yellow feces that no one even wants to step on when you lay down on the ground?"

the air became silent, heavy. They were waiting for the reply from the Yellow Banner army.

Aden scoffed, he knew it was a desperate attempt by the losing army who had been beaten over and over for the past few months.

Aden glanced a bit at his friend, a frequent Muharezin for the Khanadi army.

"There is no need to follow their demand. Right, Nasser?" Aden said to his fellow cavalry who mounted a white horse, "We are the winning side, why would we have to answer their demand? we could just sweep them off for good."

"Yes, you are right. but there is no fun in that. Still, we have to follow the tradition." Nasser replied.

Aden saw Commander Akbar get out of the formation, he inspected all of his six thousand strong men at arms and shouted, "Which one of you would honor their challenge?"

"Hooah!" all of them shouted in unison, after that two men stepped forward—a spearman from the infantry and an archer from the archer unit.

Commander Akbar looked into the cavalry unit, "Anyone from the cavalry?"

"Hyah!" Nasser spurred his magnificent white horse down the dusted hill, displaying its strength and skill as he galloped around the soon-to-be battlefield.

He eventually returned to give Aden the reins before dismounting and striding confidently to the center of the battlefield—join the other two champions of the yellow banner. He was one of Khanadi's finest warriors, ready to prove his mettle in combat.

"Tsk, show off." Aden thought about keeping his white horse if he ever fell in the duel. It was a fine warhorse.

The yellow banner answered Yuza's army duel challenge by sending three of their best warrior out of curtsy and tradition— a single archer, a cavalryman, and a spearman infantry.

They met in the center of the battlefield, facing off each other on a spear distance.

"You are obviously unaware of your dire situation; you are greatly outnumbered here. Yield and we shall be merciful," the spearman champion spoke on behalf of The Khanadi's army.

"Or what?" A confident champion of the Yuza army scoffed.

"Or we will feed you to the vultures. Nothing personal, of course."

"Aye, you have outnumbered us in men, but we outnumbered you in balls," haughtily the strongest Yuza's champion mocked, refusing the term from the Khanadi's champion.

"Zeehahaha!" He bursted into laughter followed by his two champion comrades.

"After this, we shall fil n full your wives and daughters' wombs with our seeds." the haughty champion thrust his hips back and forth—they burst into laughter again.

the Khanadi champions were angry but still managed their composure.

"Talk's over," the Khanadi spearman vexed. "Let's see who's going to fil n full at the end of this battle. May the eyes of the cowards never sleep."

The haughty Yuza champion spat, He was too proud to even bother to reply to the saying tradition.

"Suit yourself." The Khanadi spearman pointed his spear toward the haughty champion, and pulled out combat stance—his two companions followed through— they unsheated their shamshirs.

The spearman champion was in the middle, his eyes fixed on the haughty Yuza's champion who drew his shamsir and raised his round shield.

Nasser and the archer champion each were beside him. They spread out and their eyes fixed on their opponent ahead.

The spearman lunged forward. made the first move. The haughty champion deflected his spear with a shield and swung his shamshir. The spearman used the momentum to keep his distance. The haughty champion only slashed the empty air with his shamshir.

Nasser and the archer champion also started engaging their opponent. The combatants moved with fluid grace, their movements a mesmerizing dance of skill and determination.

The sound of their clashes filled the air, a symphony of steel meeting steel and the resolute determination of combatants locked in a fierce struggle. Each combatant sought an advantage, their eyes fixed on their opponents with an unwavering focus, their every movement a calculated step towards victory.

although the Yuza's champions were battling a losing war, they could keep up with the Khanadi's champion in this duel.

Every combatant fought with an almost preternatural skill, their fighting prowess a testament to their years of training and unyielding dedication. Each strike and parry was executed with a precision that bordered on artistry, their movements a captivating display of the beauty and brutality of combat. As they battled, the ebb and flow of the fight painted a vivid portrait of the unyielding spirit and unspoken honor that drove them forward.

The Khanadi spearman sought an opening, he slipped his spear between the haughty champion's left arm and shield strap. The Khanadi spearman flung it away, leaving the haughtily champion with only his shamshir—now the tide of the duel has changed.

With a single feint, the Khanadi spearman was able to outmaneuver his opponent and stabbed his spear straight to the throat of his opponent, sending his enemy to his doom in the heat of the sand.

The spearman observed the duel. On his left, Nasser looked like he had the upper hand, contrary to the archer champion at his right. The archer was wounded on his shoulder.

The Khanadi spearman didn't waste time, he charged at the enemy on his right side—helping the overwhelmed archer champion—only to be blocked by their opponent's shield.

Aden watched the unfolding events from his vantage point atop a hill, where the third, fourth, and fifth light cavalry squadrons had taken position. To his flanks stood the first and second light cavalry units, their ranks intermingled with the archer battalions, while the infantry held firm on the slope below, forming an unyielding vanguard.

His gaze was transfixed on the duel unfolding before them, a contest of honor and skill that had initially pitted three champions from each side against one another. However, the tides had shifted, and now it was a clash of three against two as one of Yuza's champions succumbed to the blades of Nasser and his compatriot.

The duel had become a brutal dance of steel and sinew, each warrior's movements a testament to their unwavering determination and years of rigorous training. It was a matter of mere moments before one of Yuza's remaining champions fell, their lifeblood staining the soil beneath them, leaving the other grievously wounded.

With a resounding clash of blades, the Khanadi champions emerged victorious, their victory cries echoing across the battlefield like a rallying call to arms. The morale of the Khanadi army surged to new heights, their spirits buoyed by this encouraging prelude to the impending clash. A sense of confidence rippled through their ranks, bolstering their resolve as they prepared to face their enemies head-on.

The three Khanadi champions, their blades still glistening with the remnants of their hard-fought triumph, made their way back to their respective ranks, their heads held high and their steps infused with a newfound glory.

As Aden observed the scene, he couldn't help but feel a swell of pride for his bannermen. The Khanadi warriors had proven their mettle, their unwavering spirit a beacon of hope in the face of the impending battle. With their muharezins' victory serving as a harbinger of things to come, the army's morale had been fortified, their resolve steeled for the challenges that lay ahead.

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