As King Konfot decided to move, and forged alliances with the neighboring towns, setting the stage for a collective war effort against the formidable Armad. This decision mirrored the sentiment in other towns of similar stature, which had independently arrived at the same strategic conclusion. These towns recognized their transgression—they had erred gravely in permitting the wild tribes to traverse their territories without intervention or notice to King Armad.
The underlying fear among these towns was that they were sure King Armad would not forgive them, especially because of the recent incident where Armad had brazenly rejected King Konfot’s envoys. Due to that, they resolved to align themselves with the King’s Legion. They had become cognizant that their survival hinged on a successful offensive against Armad, a sentiment that had solidified into a unified commitment.
Their strategy was audacious and direct: to assail Armad’s town, overcome his army, and seize him. Once subdued, they planned to bind him and dispatch him by boat to the capital city of Wilberforce. They were convinced that, after such a defeat, the emperor of Wilberforce would strip Armad of any opportunity to govern anew. Bolstered by the support of King’s Legion, these towns were resolute in their belief that they could counteract and ultimately triumph over any schemes Armad might orchestrate against them.
Transitioning our gaze to another significant locale within this geopolitical tapestry, we encounter Fida—a town that stands out among the nine encircling the town of Tiriba. Fida’s status as the largest and most ancient town in the region is not its only claim to fame. Inside one of its grand conference halls, a meeting of mighty cultivators was underway. Some are seated on chairs, while others stand engaged in conversation. A quick observation reveals the formidable nature of these individuals, as over thirty “Deva” are among them. They wear a uniform that is predominantly black with some drawings of clouds, emblematic of the attire worn by the King’s Legion. The presence of these elite warriors raises the question: What business does the King’s Legion have in this town?
The town itself, perched atop a hill, was a bastion of strength and historical resilience. Having stood unvanquished for over a thousand years, Fida’s invulnerability was as much a product of its topography as it was of its self-sufficiency. The town’s large expanse housed farms, metal wells, and a plethora of resources that allowed its people to endure even under siege. They even cultivated Airids, a crop that is used to make money, along with their metallurgical prowess in weapon production, ensuring that any besieging force would be hard-pressed to deplete Fida’s reserves.
Moreover, Fida’s natural elevation provided a tactical advantage, enabling its defenders to launch arrows from the high ground against any encroaching enemy. Below the hill, ready to counter any ground assaults, lay another battalion, further cementing the town’s defensive capabilities.
With a population tripling that of Tiriba, Fida was a populous stronghold, home to over 600,000 souls. This was not merely a numerical advantage but also a qualitative one, for among the residents of Fida were numerous powerful cultivators whose skills were a significant asset to the town’s might and to the allied cause against Armad.
From the moment the King’s Legion left the town of Tiriba—having failed in their assassination attempt on Armad—they decisively chose not to return to the Wilberforce Empire. Instead, they established themselves in the town of Fida.
In this hall, where these King’s Legion settle, the grand doors of the hall were thrust open, heralding the entrance of the Fida King council. The King’s Legion, who were the attendees, remained conspicuously seated, a bold departure from customary protocol which dictated standing in reverence. The council members, upon their entry, made their way to the seats reserved for them, offering respectful greetings to the warriors as they passed.
“May you have a restful stay,” they intoned, their voices laced with deference. “We trust the accommodations and sustenance provided meet your satisfaction. Should you require anything further, do not hesitate to make your wishes known to us.” It was impossible to miss the fear that clouded their eyes—a fear that seemed to be an involuntary response whenever the name ‘King’s Legion’ was mentioned, a testament to their fierce reputation.
The commander of the King’s Legion, impatient with these formalities, immediately inquired about the forthcoming strategy. “What is the state of our preparations for the impending assault on Tiriba?” he asked, his voice betraying a hint of urgency.
An elder from Fida’s council, whose countenance belied his wisdom and whose hair bore not a strand of gray, responded with a slight bow. “All necessary preparations have been meticulously arranged. We have secured King Konfot’s endorsement to join forces with our alliance against King Armad. We have the full might of the nine allied towns at our disposal, rendering your direct involvement in the impending battle unnecessary. We are confident that we can obliterate Tiriba swiftly and decisively, avoiding the blunders that occurred with those unruly wild people. I cautioned against relying on them from the beginning, but my advice was not taken into consideration at the time.”
The commander of the King’s Legion raised his hand, a silent gesture indicating his disinterest in revisiting the failures of those unrefined tribesmen. He contemplated their initial intent to keep their murderous intentions towards Armad out of the public eye. They had desired secrecy because Armad was of King Ayrion’s lineage. Were it not for Prince Ikenga’s vehement desire—and the council’s backing—for Armad’s death, they would not have stooped to such nefarious deeds. The wild people, those lawless nomads who traversed the forests and were known to be embroiled in conflicts with every established community, were ideal scapegoats. Had they succeeded in killing Armad, the warriors would have remained above suspicion.
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Now, with their original plan thwarted, the King’s Legion was forced to pivot and employ the towns in their machinations. They aimed to overwhelm Armad with a sudden attack, capture him, and place him aboard a ship bound for the Wilberforce Empire. However, the underlying motive was far more sinister, as Prince Ikenga harbored a fervent wish for Armad’s demise. Should Armad return to Wilberforce, Prince Ikenga would continue to be plagued by his presence. Moreover, a faction within the Wilberforce council persisted in their allegiance to Prince Armad, honoring the legacy of his deceased mother, so they would make sure they were punished for their betrayal.
The commander of the King’s Legion, with a stern and resolute expression, addressed the council, “When do we plan to launch our attack?”
The head of the council, standing amidst the circle of strategists, stepped forward to answer. “As per your directives, my lord, we have scheduled the attack on the town of Tiriba to occur in three days. We have devised a strategy that ensures a rapid and decisive victory, and we anticipate our triumphant return on the very same day. Your involvement, commander, is not required in this matter – we have everything under control.”
The commander listened intently, his expression unreadable. After a moment, he gave a deliberate shake of his head, signaling his dissent. “This time, the approach will be different,” he declared with unyielding resolve. “We cannot afford to repeat the mistakes of the past. We all must take part in this campaign together. The tribes of the wilderness also said that our involvement was unnecessary, but they were gravely wrong and caused us defeat. We will go together with you and wear the uniforms of your soldiers to merge seamlessly with them.
He paused, allowing his words to resonate among the council. “This conflict must appear to be a mere quarrel between your towns and, don’t let it be known that the King’s Legion took a part in it. Nonetheless, should you emerge victorious – which I have full confidence you will – the bounties and rewards we have pledged will be bestowed upon you, along with additional honors that have yet to be spoken of.”
The commander’s gaze swept across the room, his demeanor exuding confidence and determination. “Moreover, when the time comes for King Ayrion to give his throne to Ikenga, we will introduce policies that will ensure the prosperity and development of your lands. Your towns will be transformed into sprawling metropolises, beacons of civilization in this part of the world.”
He concluded with a stern warning that carried an implicit promise of support, “But let me be clear: we cannot and will not tolerate defeat. The odds are in your favor, with nine powerful towns standing against one town. You must – and you will – emerge victorious.”
The head of the council, visibly inspired by the commander’s impassioned speech, nodded in solemn agreement. His voice steady and full of conviction, he replied, “About the outcome of this battle, there is no doubt, commander. Victory is not just a possibility – it is a certainty. We shall not fail you.” Then the council left.
These King’s Legions are the warriors dispatched from the capital to protect Prince Armad. Their orders were explicit and unambiguous: safeguard the prince until he completes his mission. Their betrayal to do so indicates a breach of command, a direct violation of the edicts set forth by the Wilberforce Empire. The consequences of such a breach are severe; they simply cannot return to their homes without Prince Armad, whether he is alive or his body is all that remains. To admit they left him behind is to invite harsh punishment upon themselves.
If they return without him, they would face not only demotion but a spectrum of other dire repercussions. It is this fear of retribution that now drives them to contemplate going on with their betrayal mission- to assassinate Prince Armad and return to the capital with his corpse, fabricating a narrative to explain his demise.
If they kill Armad now, their betrayal will not be exposed, because the investigation into Armad’s death will be led by none other than Prince Ikenga, his brother, alongside the King’s Legion. Their presence ensures the false story they concoct will be accepted without question, as the truth will be silenced along with any dissenting voices.
After the departure of the council members, the commander, with a stern yet solemn expression, turned to address his steadfast warriors. “Prepare yourselves, for today, we will don the uniforms of this town’s soldiers. To wear their garb is an honor for them, which is enough for them till their last breath.
The soldiers nodded in agreement, their minds echoing the sentiment of honor and duty. They understood the weight of the commander’s words; it was indeed an honor that the renowned King’s Legion would be disguised in their humble uniforms.
Meanwhile, away from the gathering, a table was laid out with the distinct uniforms of the town’s warriors. The plan was to wear these uniforms to merge seamlessly with the town forces, a tactic to gain the element of surprise.
The King’s Legion had their machinations. Once victorious in battle, they intended to silence anyone with knowledge of the day’s true events. They would execute all the rulers of the nine towns who had been coerced into assisting with Armad’s downfall. Then, they would deceitfully report back to the Wilberforce Empire, claiming that Prince Armad had sought to conquer these towns and that in the chaos of the battle, many had fallen—including the prince himself. They would argue that despite their valiant efforts to protect him, his death was unavoidable, which is why they were returning his body.
The King’s Legion’s plot was clear: use the towns as pawns in their game of power, and once they had served their purpose, eliminate them to cover up the truth.
Some warriors stepped forward to the table to equip themselves with the uniforms, their movements deliberate and resolute. Others remained seated, casually chatting amidst the tension, perhaps to calm their nerves or to mask the fear of the upcoming conflict.
As these nine towns unwittingly collaborated with the King’s Legion in a scheme to destroy Armad and his dominion, Prince Armad sat in his quarters, a sense of foreboding weighing heavily on his mind. Before him, Nusi focused on enhancing her cultivation. The tranquility of the moment was juxtaposed against the impending attack that loomed on the horizon.
Armad reflected on his recent visit to Alhaji Saminu’s farm had proven fruitful, as he had acquired an abundance of cultivation-enhancing pills—over 20,000 in total—along with more than 4,000 pills to bolster skin strength, among various other types including horse stamina pills, energy-boosting pills, and insect repellent pills.
The prospect of enhancing his cultivation and strength filled Armad with a sense of determination and purpose. With Nusi by his side, he made a silent vow to harness these newfound pills to reach the next level of his cultivation.