Armad is currently unaware of the clandestine plot being woven around him. As he valiantly cuts down his adversaries, his focus is solely on the battlefield and the anticipation of acquiring new techniques from the system—techniques that would fortify him further. Little does he know that his enemies have carefully selected a trio of individuals whose sole purpose is to capture him, a fact that has eluded his vigilance.
This chosen trio has meticulously crafted their plan and is now in the final stages of executing it. Their current guise as common foot soldiers is a strategic ploy, enabling them to approach Armad without arousing suspicion. Their ordinary appearance belies their extraordinary mission, as they move stealthily closer to their target.
From a safe distance, the coalition of kings and King’s legions observes with a burgeoning sense of anticipation. Smiles creep onto their faces as they witness their carefully laid plans coming to fruition. These kings had personally handpicked the trio for this task, confident in their capabilities. Since the assignment was given, the kings have remained detached from the battlefield, assured that their intervention would not be necessary.
The night before, the selection was made with precision, zeroing in on the most capable individuals in the region, which is situated adjacent to the sea. In a land where the discussion of power inevitably includes the names of such benders, these three stand out, independent of any royal lineage. Unlike the kings, whose fame is largely derived from their ancestry, these individuals have earned recognition through sheer talent and power, ever since their youth.
Among them is the young but formidable Nura Bayajidda. Not even forty years old, he has already attained the prestigious level of Origin-of-Deba, a feat that normally spans two centuries of devoted practice. His rapid progression defies the traditional journey from the Sammai level to the Deba level, signaling his exceptional nature in the world of benders.
The Bayajidda bloodline, to which Nura belongs, is enveloped in mystery and speculation. It is been narrated that the parents of Nura were not native to the region but rather settlers who brought with them a legacy of greatness. Whispers and legends circulate about the Bayajidda, some steeped in truth, others in fiction, and several recorded in the pages of history. The consensus, however, is that the Bayajidda bloodline is one of distinction and influence, a sentiment bolstered by the discovery of the seal Nura employs to amplify his muscular prowess.
It was for these reasons, among others, that the kings selected Nura Bayajidda as one of the agents in their mission to ensnare Armad. The kings recognized that Armad’s technique, which he uses to enhance his physical strength, might match Nura Bayajidda’s abilities. However, the full extent of Armad’s technique—whether it strengthens just his skin or his entire body—remains a mystery. In Nura Bayajidda, they saw not just a powerful bender but one with the potential to counter Armad’s formidable technique, making him the perfect instrument for their intricate scheme.
The kings understood that among the trio there needed to be someone with an extensive level of cultivation—a warrior capable of enduring the rigors of prolonged combat and providing unwavering support to their comrades. Their choice fell on an individual from the town of Fida, who had reached the esteemed level of Province-of-Deba. This person’s profound cultivation would undoubtedly be an asset in the task given.
Moreover, the kings knew that experience in warfare was equally crucial. They needed a seasoned veteran, someone who had tasted the dust of many battlefields and faced numerous tribes in combat. This warrior’s knowledge of war would be vital in neutralizing Armad’s tactics, for he was a stranger to these lands, likely to employ unconventional strategies unfamiliar to the locals. By selecting these three distinguished individuals, the kings demonstrated their wisdom and foresight, confident that with such allies, victory was within reach. Therefore, they chose to remain as observers, their presence a silent testament to their strategic choices.
Amidst the tension of ongoing war, King Konfot engaged his peers in a diversion—a wager on the outcome of the conflict. Turning to the monarch at his side, he issued a challenge, “Let’s place a bet. How long do you reckon it will take before we capture him? I suspect it won’t be long. I’m willing to put down 1 million Airids. What’s your stake?”
The king beside King Konfot fell silent for a moment, reflecting on the proposal, before declaring confidently, “I give them two minutes. They’ll slay him within that span. I’ll match your bet with 1 million Airids of my own.”
Following this exchange, the other kings in attendance joined the wager, each placing their money and forecasting the time it would take to kill Armad. Their earlier intent to capture had morphed into a singular focus on his elimination. It was no longer enough to defeat him; they felt compelled to obliterate his bending abilities. Predictions varied, with one king surmising that Armad could withstand the onslaught for as long as 10 minutes. King Konfot had suggested the shortest duration, potentially risking his money, while the king with the longest estimate faced a similar gamble. The kings who opted for a middle ground, predicting three to four minutes, perhaps stood a chance of claiming victory in this morbid lottery.
The fates of those involved were shrouded in uncertainty. Meanwhile, Armad and Nusi remained oblivious to the high stakes and the kings’ machinations. Nusi had completed her task of blending medicine and had turned her attention to another form of creation. With deft skill, she conjured up a formidable tree, reminiscent of baobab in its grandeur but devoid of leaves, only bare branches stretching skyward. Soon after, she manifested another, this one bearing a resemblance to the neem tree, positioned at the town’s fortified wall. A third tree sprouted within the confines of the town, a silent sentinel amid the chaos.
These spectral trees began to grow, their branches weaving into one another, forming a network of life sprung from death. They drew sustenance from the blood-soaked earth, their roots delving deep into the soil that had become a grave for many. As they absorbed the blood, they also siphoned a peculiar smoke that rose in tendrils from the mud, a byproduct of the Nusi’s blending.
The branches of the trees continued to grow unabated. Some of the adversaries advancing toward the town walls had taken notice of this peculiar development. Despite the vastness of the battlefield, these were no ordinary trees; they were the same that had slain many of their comrades in the previous day’s skirmish. With caution igniting their actions, they began to tackle the arboreal threat, determined not to let history repeat itself.
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A group of them stepped forth, conjuring a magical barrier to shroud the encroaching trees, hoping to thwart their reach onto the battlefield. Yet, their efforts were in vain. The trees grew relentlessly, breaching the magical wall as if it were mere vapor.
What these opponents failed to realize was that their magical wall was designed to repel attacks borne of cultivation, whereas these trees operated on a completely different principle. They were born from a technique of farming, thriving on a unique blend of nourishment: the smoke from a concoction devised by Nusi and, more ominously, the blood of humans. The reason the trees could derive sustenance from human blood was because of the nutrients accumulated from food, which, in turn, was a product of farming. Thus, within the human body lay a reservoir of refined nourishment, a result of farming techniques, making humans walking vessels of concentrated sustenance. While plants could also serve as food, they contained a mix of both refined and unrefined nutrients.
Now, the magical wall proved utterly ineffective against the relentless growth of Nusi’s trees. Warriors who had attained the esteemed level of Sammai recoiled in concern as the trees drew nearer, realizing their powerlessness. Even those beyond the Sammai level, the Deba-ranked warriors who had yet to join the fray, attempted to erect a more potent magical wall. But their efforts, too, were fruitless.
Witnessing the failure of their magical defenses, the earth benders among them stepped forward. With great concentration, they summoned a wall of unprecedented thickness, far exceeding the girth of a human body, in a desperate bid to halt the relentless advance of the trees.
A few seconds after the trees had been covered by the walls, a tremendous cacophony arose from the collision of trees’ might against the steadfast walls. It seemed as though the very trees, guided by unseen forces, were relentless in their assault upon the man-made barriers. However, Deba is Deba; as the integrity of the wall was compromised, they deftly manifested not one, but three additional walls in succession. These new formations were unique in their enchantment, requiring a single infusion of cultivation energy to come into existence. Thereafter, they stood independently, impervious to the need for further sustenance, mirroring the self-sustaining nature of the trees they faced. But this brought forth an unsettling doubt—did these newly arisen walls possess the necessary fortitude to repel the formidable arboreal onslaught?
High above the fray, Nusi’s silhouette was etched against the sky as she perched on the town’s ramparts, her expression one of intense vexation. The invisible power that stalled her advancing trees was palpable to her heightened senses. To the untrained eye, her methods remained shrouded in mystery, but Nusi was acutely aware that it was time to marshal her strength and redouble her efforts. The obstruction her trees faced was more than a mere physical hindrance; it was as if her progress was being stymied. Her face contorted into a frown as she retrieved a pair of energy-boosting pills from her supplies—gifts from Armad—and placed them between her lips. The effect was immediate and revitalizing; her strength surged back into her limbs, and the vital essence she had expended was rapidly replenished. Even in the heat of battle, Nusi couldn’t suppress her astonishment at the potency of the pills, nor her curiosity about the secrets of their creation—such were the marvels that Armad could produce.
With renewed vigor, Nusi focused her energies on the trees once more, intensifying their growth. The augmented trees expanded with newfound vigor, their branches creaking and groaning as they battered against the walls. However, as the fourth wall teetered on the brink of destruction, the earth benders, undeterred, conjured up yet another quartet of walls. Although these new bastions were successful in halting the trees’ forward march and protecting their soldiers from the brunt of the impact, they inadvertently caused harm to their people as they withdrew. It became clear that the primary objective of the earthbenders was not to stop the trees from growing but to protect their retreat from the inexorable advance of the forest.
Eventually, Nusi’s strategic acumen saw her through, as her trees reached the strategic location she had aimed for. With the immediate threat to her trees abating, Nusi turned her attention to another task. She extracted two more of the mysterious pills, along with her mortar and pestle, and set to work grinding the pills into a fine powder. As she did so, a mystical smoke began to waft from the mixture, carrying with it the power to induce the trees to fruit. As the fruits emerged and burst open, they released another stream of smoke, thick and potent.
These trees of Nusi hold a mystical quality that sets them apart. They are not merely trees but possess a strange power that can confound their enemies. It is a common misconception among foes that these trees will merely ensnare them with their branches. As a result, elaborate schemes are devised to shield themselves from what they perceive as a potential threat. The battleground is expansive, and as one area is covered, attacks continue to rain down from other directions, creating a chaotic and unpredictable environment.
What distinguishes these trees from others that Nusi materialize is the nature of the smoke emitted by their fruit. This smoke is not ordinary; it carries a toxic essence that can inflict harm even upon those who have attained the esteemed level of Deba. When the trees breach their barriers, the previously contained smoke is unleashed, spreading its poisonous tendrils throughout the battlefield, adding a new layer of danger to the conflict.
At a distance, a troop of approximately 300 warriors, all of whom have reached the level of Sammai, stand watch, observing the unfolding events with a keen eye. These individuals are revered in their towns, holding a position of authority and wisdom. In the ordinary course of life, encounters with a Deba in these towns are rare occurrences. A Deba is a figure of high status and reverence, seldom seen in public spaces due to their elevated position and their tendency to engage in deep meditation. It is the Sammai who guide and govern the towns, drawing upon their wealth of life experience to carefully analyze and interpret the events that transpire before them.
As the Sammai witness the shrouding of Nusi’s trees, a sense of concern washes over them, evident in the furrowing of their brows. Before their very eyes, the smoke begins to envelop their battalion, casting a shadow of uncertainty over the situation. Some among them, possessing the power of air bending, endeavor to disperse the smoke using their unique skills, directing it away from their forces and toward the town of Tiriba. They do so with a sense of urgency, unwilling to witness the potential consequences of the smoke’s spread. They must act swiftly, even before fully comprehending the extent of the smoke’s capabilities.
However, their attempts to redirect the smoke do not proceed as intended. Instead of following the intended path toward Tiriba, the smoke lingers and spreads within their ranks, enveloping their battalion in a shroud of uncertainty and trepidation. In this moment of chaos and confusion, Nusi observes with a knowing smile, for she alone comprehends the true power and potential of her smoke.