When Armand made the strategic decision to recruit Nusi into his legion and secure her allegiance, little did he anticipate the sheer magnitude of her extraordinary abilities. Initially drawn to her for the utilitarian purpose of pill production and the assurance from the system that she bore no malice towards him, Armand soon found himself awestruck by her prowess on the battlefield.
In the preceding conflict, Nusi had manifested a remarkable tree capable of ensnaring, immobilizing, and siphoning the vital fluids from their adversaries’ bodies. As the current battle unfolded, Nusi summoned a new array of trees, distinct from her previous creation. These arboreal entities exuded a mysterious smoke laden with fruits that induced a state of disorientation and lethargy among friend and foe alike. However, thanks to the energy-boosting pills that he distributed among his troops, enabling them to swiftly shake off the effects of Nusi’s potent concoction. In stark contrast, the opposing forces, lacking such restorative aids, succumbed to a deep slumber, presenting Armad with a decisive advantage to decimate their ranks at will.
A radiant aura enveloped Armad, heralding a torrent of luminous arrows that surged forth from his being, unerringly striking down those who dared to flee. Determined not to let a single adversary slip through his grasp, Armad swiftly dispatched 300 foes in a whirlwind of righteous fury.
Witnessing their leader’s indomitable resolve, Armad’s loyal soldiers unleashed a torrent of devastating weaponry and unparalleled combat skills upon the remaining opposition. The cacophony of battle cries mingled with the anguished wails of the fallen, echoing across the blood-soaked terrain as Armad and his elite forces swiftly dispatched an additional 1,000 adversaries in a breathtaking display of martial prowess. Left battered and broken, the surviving enemies found themselves on the brink of collapse, their depleted reserves and mutual exhaustion threatening to turn them against each other in a desperate bid for survival.
With the recent toll of a thousand enemies felled by Armad and his battalion combined with those they have previously defeated, the tally of foes they have vanquished climbs to a staggering 10,000. This significant number is a testament to the fierce resistance put up by Armad’s forces. From the original horde of 40,000 attackers that swarmed them, Armad and his warriors have managed to reduce their adversaries’ ranks to 30,000. The implication of such a loss is profound; even if the allied armies from the neighboring towns were to retreat at this juncture, the impact of their casualties would resonate for years to come, severely undermining their capability to regroup and reassert their strength.
However, both sides recognize that the conclusion of this war is not yet within sight. Escape is not an option on this day of battle; the only end to this conflict will be the total annihilation of one side. The bloodshed has sown seeds of hatred too deep to allow any thoughts of a harmonious coexistence post-conflict.
A palpable change has come over the faces of the kings involved. Their earlier demeanor, marked by a grim satisfaction as they placed their bets, has vanished. Merely a short time ago, these rulers were indulging in a morbid game of chance, speculating on the duration Armad might withstand their onslaught. Their preparations were meticulous, having been laid well in advance of their departure for war. They had carefully selected a trio of their most potent warriors—Nura Bayajidda and two other seasoned soldiers, who were at the third stage of deva to lie in wait and execute a deadly ambush on Armad when the moment was ripe.
Before the acrid smoke of war grew thick, these kings were preoccupied with their gambling, each wagering upwards of 1 million on the swift downfall of Armad. The most generous among them conceded a mere ten minutes for Armad to sustain before being overcome.
However, despite the unhappy state of their faces, the kings still harbor the belief that they possess an advantage—as the formidable trio they have chosen to dispatch Armad have yet to strike—they are convinced that Armad’s capture or demise is a foregone conclusion once their assault is initiated. Nonetheless, they are confronted with a troubling predicament: the soldiers currently perishing on the battlefield are among their most proficient and battle-hardened. Should these valiant fighters be completely decimated, the kings’ forces would be left significantly enfeebled. Each town among the nine that have banded together to assail Armad’s bastion of Tiriba has suffered losses exceeding 1,500 soldiers. For communities of their modest size, such losses are catastrophic and will be felt for generations.
Amidst the strategic calculations and the cold tallying of losses, there is a more personal dimension to the kings’ motivations—a visceral desire for retribution. Their hearts are burdened with a sense of obligation to not only defeat Armad but to also make him suffer for the devastation he has wrought upon them.
Besides the solemn figures of the kings, the King’s Legion stood in mute testament to the gravity of the situation. These elite warriors, bound by loyalty and distinguished by their silence, watched on as the kings engaged in their frivolous games of chance. To these seasoned cultivators, the kings were mere trifles in the grander scheme of things. The legionnaires, bound by a higher code, would not have soiled their hands in the company of such minor royalty were it not for the necessity of maintaining a veil of secrecy over their true intentions and alliances. Every member of the King’s Legion carried a reputation that preceded them, and entry into their prestigious ranks was reserved for those of exceptional lineage and power.
These paragons, the ones sworn to protect Armad belonged to the venerable Wilberforce tribe. Leading them was none other than Kisa Wilberforce, a commander whose name was synonymous with strength and whose cultivation had reached the zenith known as Peak-of-Deva. Kisa’s prowess had been acknowledged and revered for many years within the circles of power.
The council of Wilberforce, comprised of various members with their agendas and allegiances, deliberated and decided upon Kisa Wilberforce’s assignment to protect Prince Armad. Their choice was influenced by the ongoing strife between Prince Armad and Prince Ikenga. While some councilors openly backed Prince Ikenga, swayed by arguments that were well known to all, there remained a faction that sought to maintain a stance of neutrality, their loyalty firmly rooted in obedience to the king’s decrees. In Kisa, they found what they believed to be an impartial figure, one who could be trusted to defend Prince Armad without bias.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
Kisa’s orders were clear, though they carried an unspoken weight of expectation. While the council refrained from instructing him to use his significant capabilities to expand Armad’s influence, they charged him with a task of equal import: ensuring the prince’s safety against any dire threat that might claim his life.
The Council’s trust in Kisa was not unfounded. His leadership extended to the troops he commanded, a formidable extension of the King’s Legion’s might.
Although only 56 of their armies were presently engaged in the immediate conflict, the remaining force, some 200 additional armies of the King’s Legion, had been spread all over the borders of the town of Tiriba. These were not deployed to the battlefield but were strategically placed to serve a different kind of warfare.
Commander Kisa, understanding the stakes involved and the potential repercussions that news of the conflict could have if it spread, had preemptively scattered his forces across the territory. The town of Tiriba, lying at the crossroads of strategic interests, was encircled by his troops. Kisa’s orders were absolute: the town was to be sealed off, a bulwark against the outward flow of information, until the resolution of the battle. He aimed to create a buffer, ensuring that the events transpiring within Tiriba’s confines would not escalate to a larger stage or jeopardize the Wilberforce Empire’s stability.
Kisa Wilberforce thinks that the forces at his disposal are disproportionately large for the conflict they are engaged in. However, when he witnesses the casualties and the retreat of the troops led by other kings, he cannot help but exhale a deep, burdened sigh.
It was an unspoken understanding that when the Council of Wilberforce assigned him to this delicate mission, he was to maintain impartiality between the contentious sons of the emperor; his duty was to act solely as an officer of the king’s legion, without personal bias.
Yet the situation is complicated by the apparent weakness of Prince Armad, a detail that drastically skews the scales. Kisa has been offered a considerable incentive by Prince Ikenga, a reward contingent upon the elimination of Armad. This gift is not something that Kisa feels he can simply turn his back on. It is a temptation that overshadows any sense of duty or neutrality. The promised reward juxtaposed with Armad’s feeble disposition paints a stark picture: Kisa sees no alternative but to carry out the grim task of assassination.
The very thought of the reward that awaits him should he successfully assassinate Armad fills Kisa with a dark sense of satisfaction. The nature of this gift is such that it transcends ordinary desires—it is a prize that can sway even the most disciplined mind, a prize that could empower him to the point where he might even pose a threat to a member of the Ayrion council. The only thing that might give him pause is the potential cost of his own life; thus, his will to proceed is tempered only by the instinct of self-preservation. Despite the potential danger involved, Kisa experiences no regret for accepting such a perilous mission.
Every scheme that has brought peril to Armad’s doorstep can be traced back to Kisa. From the stealthy arrow intended to end Armad’s life to the chain of events that followed, Kisa has been the unseen hand guiding each deadly encounter. Although he projects an image of naivety, feigning ignorance of the chaos unfolding around him, he is, in truth, the architect of this dark plot. He relies on a tight circle of trusted soldiers to carry out his orders, knowing well that their loyalty is assured and their silence guaranteed.
Moreover, Commander Kisa has taken steps to ensure the loyalty of his soldiers. He has shared with them the details of the promised reward and has made a vow: upon the fall of Armad, he will distribute the contents of Armad’s magical bag amongst them. This promise has served to deepen their allegiance and stoke the flames of greed within their hearts. They are keen to see the battle through to its bitter end, driven by curiosity and covetousness to discover the extent of the wealth hidden within the enigmatic bag. It is widely speculated that Armad’s bag contains a substantial inheritance, a legacy from his mother who, before her death, bestowed upon him her entire fortune. This fortune, it is said, was carefully extracted by Armad before he left the safe confines of the capital city of Wilberforce.
They were intent on claiming every last item that his mother had bequeathed to him. The scuttlebutt was that she had amassed an impressive collection of over 100 level 10 Airids. This led to rampant speculation about whether all these Airids were secured within Armad’s enchanted satchel. Despite understanding the perilous nature of their quest, the team was resolved to proceed. The commission by the crown prince himself was a powerful motivator, and they were prepared to exert every effort to fulfill their assignment. They were cognizant that completing this mission would serve as a testament to their capabilities, proving their worth to the prince who would one day rule as king. This opportunity to gain fame and renown was seen as a stepping stone, and they were ready to embrace the inherent risks; after all, one does not achieve renown without facing and overcoming danger. This was the risk they had elected to face head-on.
Commander Kisa exhaled a heavy sigh, his mind traveling back to the sequence of events that began the day he departed from the capital city. Initially, he was steadfast in his commitment to protect Armad, but his loyalties shifted when he allied himself with Prince Ikenga, having already accepted the duty to guard Armad. The enticement was the promise of rich rewards from Prince Ikenga, which would be bestowed upon Kisa’s return and subsequent betrayal of Armad.
He shook his head, a gesture filled with a mix of disbelief and self-reflection before he expressed a harsh truth: “One who is weak and lacks the strength of powerful cultivation can only point the finger at himself for his shortcomings.”
In Commander Kisa’s eyes, it was Prince Ikenga who had the strength and vision to perpetuate the Wilberforce Empire’s reign over the various tribes, not the weak Prince Armad. This belief reinforced his conviction that supporting Prince Ikenga was not only the right choice but also the necessary one for the empire’s future.
Commander Kisa cast a disdainful look toward the assembled kings, the look carried weight and unspoken censure. The kings, sensing the gravity of his judgment, promptly lowered their heads in submission. That singular, scornful glance spoke louder than words; it was a silent indictment of their failure. Despite their vast armies numbering over 50,000, they had been unable to best a force one-tenth their size—a humbling and embarrassing defeat.
After a moment of contemplation, Commander Kisa released another profound sigh and ascended into the air. He had no wish to be entangled in the battle, though he was mentally prepared to assassinate Armad. He refrained from personal involvement, not out of reluctance to act, but out of respect for King Ayrion, who had esteemed him highly. Yet, faced with no alternative but to engage in the conflict directly, he resigned himself to the grim task ahead.