Commander Kisa possesses a strong spiritual sense, akin to other commanders within the King's Legion. In a brief span, he discerned the individual amidst the forest floor. Ordinarily, a civilian in such surroundings would evade the notice of a commander, especially when time is of the essence. However, this particular individual demands attention.
The first and most striking detail that his senses registered was the pungent aroma of blood mingled with the stench of death—a combination all too familiar to those who have seen the aftermath of battle. This sensory evidence led Kisa to speculate that a battle might be unfolding nearby. Given his aerial vantage and the spread of his spiritual sense, it would be unusual for any nearby conflict to escape his notice.
Upon encountering the prone figure, Commander Kisa wondered if the man was part of his legion. Yet, as his spiritual sense made contact with the individual, it became clear that this was not the case. The man was one of the devas who had recently fled from a battlefield—a battlefield from which Kisa himself had also withdrawn. This deva was particularly memorable to Kisa; he was one of a trio chosen by the kings for a sinister purpose—to assassinate Prince Armand. The kings had once showcased these would-be killers before Kisa, ensuring that their visages would be permanently etched in his memory.
As Kisa observed the man, a flicker of surprise crossed his features. His first instinct was to suspect a ruse by his enemies, possibly orchestrated by Armad, involving a magical alteration of appearances to trick and deceive him. However, after marshaling his spiritual sense to its full capacity for a more thorough examination, it became apparent that the figure before him was indeed a deva, not a carefully constructed illusion.
Despite this revelation, Commander Kisa's wariness persisted. He decided to employ a specialized skill known as Kilebayans to eliminate any lingering doubts about the man's identity. Only after confirming beyond a shadow of a doubt that this was not a clever disguise employed by the elusive Commander Silaini did Kisa allow himself a moment of relief. Assured of the man's authenticity, he began his descent, intending to alight near this enigmatic deva.
Below, within the dense foliage of the forest, the man on the ground sensed the approach of another. Instead of remaining still, he sprang to his feet and took off at a sprint. It baffled Kisa that a being of deva status would choose to run on the ground rather than take to the skies. Nevertheless, the man's terrestrial speed was impressive, matching the swift pace of those with reach the level of deva. Kisa realized that if the deva continued his ground-bound flight—especially given the evident wounds that marred his form—it would be a long and taxing chase before he could hope to catch up with him.
As the commander’s eyes locked onto the figure about to escape, he instinctively opened his mouth and shouted with a sense of urgency, “You, Nura Bayajidda!” Commander Kisa felt a stroke of fortune as he dredged through his thoughts to retrieve the name that was so crucial at this moment. The most significant reason for the commander’s vivid recollection was the unique distinction of the man called Nura Bayajidda. Out of the group of three conspirators assigned to assassinate Armad, Nura stood out for his youthfulness. This detail was particularly noteworthy in a region where ascending to the revered level of deva was an honor usually reserved for the aged, those who had seen some 200 years or more. Therefore, the presence of Nura, a young deva, was bound to draw the commander’s gaze, and it did more than that—it prompted Commander Kisa to ponder the potential of enlisting Nura as one of his undercover assets. It was a well-established practice among the commanders of the King’s Legion to maintain a network of such secret operatives. These often included untamed individuals or leaders of lesser tribes who served the greater cause in the shadows. As one climbed the ranks, the necessity for these clandestine supporters grew exponentially. This was common knowledge in that era, and thus the name Nura Bayajidda was imprinted in the commander’s mind, not to be forgotten.
Meanwhile, Nura Bayajidda had covered a significant distance — approximately 200 meters — since he had begun his desperate dash to freedom. The sound of his name pierced the air and reached his ears, halting his single-minded intent to flee for a moment. Initially, Nura was reluctant to give his pursuer any attention, fearing that any distraction could result in his capture by the soldiers he had just eluded from the battlefield. In such tense times, even the whisper of movement from dry leaves underfoot could send him into a state of heightened alarm. Yet, when he finally turned to confront his pursuer, his trepidation ebbed slightly. The figure who called out to him was none other than the commander of the King’s Legion, a figure of authority and persuasion among their people, and one of the key influencers who had led their kings into the battle. What purpose did he have in this place? Nura’s observant eyes quickly took note of the commander’s condition: his body bore the marks of combat and his features the etchings of advanced age. Had the commander sacrificed his youth for power, employing some arcane skill that aged him prematurely? While these thoughts flickered through Nura’s mind, his legs did not cease their urgent pace; he continued to run.
After a moment of consideration, Nura Bayajidda came to a critical realization: this chase, if prolonged, could jeopardize them both by drawing unwanted attention. They needed to disappear from the eyes of any potential observers. Discretion was paramount, and they would need to employ stealth if they were to communicate without risking exposure.
Nura found himself consumed by a whirlwind of questions as he pondered the reason behind the commander’s summons and the outcome of the recent battle. Fleeing the chaos of the battlefield, he realized that the conflict was far from over, with both sides still vying for victory. Despite the paralyzing fear instilled by Armad’s newfound combat prowess and the ensuing chaos of battle, Nura clung to a flicker of hope that the king’s legion would swoop in to rescue their beleaguered battalion. However, this hope was swiftly extinguished as he beheld the grim reality of the King’s Legion commander’s predicament. Could it be that their monarchs had met their demise? Had their ancestral lands slipped through their fingers, lost to the ravages of war? Such calamity seemed almost unbearable.
As moments passed, a seed of doubt took root in Nura’s mind: could the enemy be cunningly masquerading as Commander Kisa to deceive him? With this unsettling notion gnawing at his thoughts, Nura made a split-second decision to disavow the figure calling out to him, resembling the commander of the King’s Legion. Thus, he veered off course and quickened his pace, unwilling to gamble his life on the slim chance of verifying the caller’s true identity, especially after the arduous flight from the battleground.
Witnessing Nura’s hastened departure, Commander Kise’s countenance darkened with frustration and uncertainty. How could he prove his authenticity to Nura and regain his trust as the rightful leader of the King’s Legion? Nonetheless, Kise recognized the strategic value of not letting the young man, Nura Bayajidda, slip through his fingers; perhaps Nura held the key to turning the tides of their fortunes. By allying, Kisa envisioned a future where he could leverage Nura’s unique talents to send him to some places where his presence would inevitably raise suspicions regarding Armad’s whereabouts and solitary state, Nura's unknown entity to the King’s Legion ranks. Indeed will has significance to him. Therefore, propelled by a sense of urgency, Commander Kisa redoubled his efforts to close the gap between them.
Their pursuit unfolded like a tense dance, each man chasing the other in a desperate bid to outrun their fears and uncertainties. It took an agonizing period before the realization dawned upon them both: they were locked in a relentless pursuit with no clear end in sight.
Finally, Nura Bayajidda mustered all his courage and halted in his tracks, straining to hear the words the commander had been trying to convey throughout their frantic chase. Amidst the chaos and confusion, the commander persistently affirmed his identity as Kisa, not a foe, and implored Nura to recognize their shared allegiance. He revealed his flight from the battlefield, hoping to kindle a spark of camaraderie and cooperation between them. With earnest conviction, the commander sought to reassure Nura that they stood on the same side and that by pooling their strengths, they could weather the storm together.
Up to this point, it becomes apparent that the commander has cast aside every vestige of the oft-mentioned arrogance that accompanies membership in the esteemed King's Legion. In this pivotal moment, his priorities have shifted dramatically, centering solely on the preservation of his own life—his most invaluable possession. For should it be forfeited, there exists no recourse, no opportunity for reclamation or revival.
Nura, the one being pursued, came to a stark realization. No matter how desperately he attempted to evade the commander’s relentless pursuit, he could not shake him off. It was this sobering realization that caused Nura to cease his frantic escape. In the moments before he came to a standstill, he had hastily prepared for confrontation, arming himself with numerous seals. He held some tightly in his grasp and affixed others directly onto his skin. These were not mere ornaments but potent talismans; he was prepared to trigger an explosion at the slightest hint of treachery. His robust physique gave him confidence that should he need to detonate the seals, he would survive, albeit injured, while the commander would sustain greater harm. This act of self-preservation, though perilous, could afford him a precious window to escape.
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Nura had chosen his temporary refuge with strategic care, positioning himself amid a thicket of trees. The dense foliage could serve as a perfect cover, offering him a chance to disappear should the need arise once again.
Upon witnessing Nura’s abrupt halt, Commander Kisa let out an exasperated sigh. He advanced towards the location where Nura Bayajidda had come to a restful stop, only to be met with a firm command as Nura stood up, hand outstretched, signaling him to halt, “Stop right where you are.”
Though only a distance of about 15 meters lay between them, it was enough for the commander to grasp the underlying tension. The air was thick with fear, and it was clear why Nura would demand him to keep his distance.
In response, Commander Kisa calmly raised his hands, evoking the universal sign of surrender. His silence hung in the air, a quiet deference as he anticipated what Nura might say next.
“What is your name?” This was the initial question that broke the stillness of the standoff, posed by Nura.
Offering a subtle nod, Commander Kisa replied, “My name is Kisa, Commander Kisa. Surely, you recognize my countenance as that of the King’s Legion’s commander.”
Nura Bayajidda’s gaze tightened, a mix of suspicion and contemplation crossing his features. After a moment of silence, he continued, “What punishments have we decreed for the Armad?” The question was not a mere inquiry but a test, a means to ascertain whether the man standing before him was indeed the commander he knew or merely an imposter wearing his guise.
Commander Kisa did not hesitate. “There are three punishments we have considered for the Armad. The first is to bind him and enslave him, as the fear of what might unfold from his death looms over us. The second is to restrain him and send him to his brother, Ikenga, ensuring he is not kept within our ranks. The third, and most severe, is to kill him should we be unable to capture him alive, with the hope that Prince Ikenga will afford us protection from any ensuing threats.”
Nura Bayajidda’s interrogation continued, his tone firm as he sought clarity. “Which of these three choices did the kings of this region unanimously support?” His question was pointed, aimed at extracting a definitive answer that would remove all doubts about the identity of the man claiming to be Commander Kisa.
Commander Kisa began to formulate his reply. “The third option, which you and your monarchs may favor, is to assassinate Armad under the assumption that as long as he lives, he poses a threat of retribution. Yet, my soldiers and I have readied ourselves for the first two alternatives, driven by the dread of what might follow Armad’s death.”
Nura Bayajidda’s mind eased slightly upon hearing Kisa’s words. The knowledge Kisa held was intimate, restricted to those within the highest echelons of power; it was the knowledge that only those in the council of kings or the king’s legion would normally possess. Within the legion itself, such information was not common knowledge but rather kept within a close-knit circle consisting only of the legion’s commander and a select few captains. Nura, however, was privy to this information, for he was part of a secretive trio whose aim was to thwart Armad, and such critical plotting ensured his inclusion in all pertinent deliberations.
“But there remains a single query, Commander. Answer it truthfully, and you shall earn my trust. However, should you falter in your response, let it be known that you shall not come near me again.” Nura’s tone was firm as he gestured towards the seals upon his chest and the one he clutched in his hand, his eyes fixed on Kisa.
Commander Kisa, with a stoic face, simply offered a nod in agreement, understanding the gravity of the situation.
“The pledge made by the King’s legion — what was it? What did they vow to you in return for your aid to disrupt Prince Armad’s ambitions of elevating Tiriba to imperial status?” Nura’s question was pointed and fraught with implications.
Confronted with such a profoundly specific question, Commander Kisa’s brow furrowed in consternation. The intricacies of these dealings were supposed to be confidential, known only to a handful. How could Nura Bayajidda, a young man not officially tied to their ranks, have access to such sensitive information? Unless Kisa himself had divulged it, the source of Nura’s knowledge was a mystery.
“How do you come by the answer to this question?” Kisa challenged his voice a mix of suspicion and intrigue.
“The ‘how’ is of no consequence,” Nura retorted sharply. “Answer the question before you. I will discern the truth of your words, just as surely as I will recognize any deception.”
At this, Commander Kisa ground his teeth subtly. The implication was clear: among the seals Nura possessed, there likely resided a device capable of detecting lies, a tool of significant value and power. Such magical seals were indeed costly, but for a deva — a being of power — or someone with considerable wealth, acquiring one was within the realm of possibility. Their steep price was a testament to their importance. Even a person who had reached the peak of deva level could not expect to deceive the seal without being exposed.
“The reasons for my betrayal of Armad are rooted in a series of promises made by the king’s legion — promises that were too significant for me to dismiss. The first was a pledge concerning the future of my children, who until recently were enrolled in an academy in the capital city. The legion assured me that my children would not only be transferred to an elite academy, reserved for the offspring of the most distinguished families, but they would also be raised in status from ordinary students to those of high distinction. This opportunity for them was one I could not afford to ignore.
The second promise was a direct boon to my military career: the legion committed to elevating my rank from that of a one-star commander to that of a three-star commander, contingent upon my cooperation with their plans. This advancement would not just be a title; it would come with greater authority, responsibility, and the respect befitting a higher-ranking officer.
To demonstrate their good faith, the Legion has already facilitated the transfer of my children from their modest academy to the grand institution they now attend. This act has shown me that their promises are not empty; they hold weight and can be trusted.
Yet, beyond these inducements, there lies a deeper, more compelling rationale for my actions — the inevitability of Armad’s downfall. Whether I chose to act as the instrument of his demise or not, the prince’s fate seemed sealed by the intricate snares laid out by his adversaries. The question then became not if, but who would play a pivotal role in the unfolding events. If Armad’s end was predestined, and his downfall an inescapable future, should I stand aside and let another claim the benefits that could have been mine?
Driven by this reasoning, I decided to align myself with the legion. It was a matter of accepting the harsh reality that Armad’s death was preordained and recognizing that my intervention could not alter his destiny. Thus, I chose to embrace the role laid out for me in this grand scheme and accept the mission to betray Armad,” Commander Kisa articulated with careful precision. His explanation was meticulous, ensuring that the seal on the hand of the young man named Nura Bayajidda would not sense any falsehood. This seal, a magical artifact of sorts, was designed to alert its wielder to deceit unless the truth was spoken with utmost clarity. If the seal was not large and the explanation muddled, it would signal a lie to its user. Commander Kisa, needing Nura Bayajidda’s trust and collaboration, did not wish to foster any misunderstandings and thus laid bare the entirety of his knowledge and motives.
Nura, who had been listening intently, took a moment to process this information. His silence was not born of doubt but of contemplation. The seal on his hand, a silent arbiter of truth, had revealed no flicker of deception. Commander Kisa had spoken honestly. With this revelation, Nura’s initial tension eased away. Understanding that he was indeed in the presence of Commander Kisa — a man caught in the intricate web of politics and power, yet forthright in his confession — Nura allowed himself a measure of relief and tranquility, his mind settling as the pieces of the puzzle fell into place.
In contemplating the inherent nature of human beings, characterized by insatiable greed, he found himself in agreement with the commander’s assertion. Even if he were enticed with lavish gifts, he acknowledged that he would likely yield to the same temptations as the commander had. His conviction extended further, believing that a substantial majority of individuals, exceeding 90%, would similarly succumb to such allurements if presented with the same extravagant offers.
The notion of Prince Armad mounting a challenge against his formidable brother, Prince Ikenga, seemed preposterous to any rational observer. The prevailing reality was crystal clear: Prince Ikenga stood as the unequivocal victor, poised to ascend to dominion over the world following in his father’s footsteps. As the crown prince adamantly refused to permit any diminishment of his empire in favor of his younger sibling, Prince Armad, it became evident that no force on earth could thwart his ascension. Any misguided attempt to support Armad in opposing this ordained succession would be tantamount to courting certain destruction.
Meanwhile, amidst the escalating tensions between the two princes, Kisa and Nura adopted a pragmatic stance focused solely on self-preservation. Recognizing the imminent peril that the conflict posed, they resolved to chart a course that would safeguard their own lives amid the brewing storm. As casualties loomed on the horizon, they understood that survival demanded a meticulous strategy tailored to navigate the treacherous waters ahead.
In a moment of solidarity born out of shared peril, Nura Bayajidda and Kisa forged an alliance founded on cooperation. United by their common plight, they acknowledged that their fates were inexorably intertwined; should misfortune befall one, the other would not escape unscathed.
Amidst a fleeting semblance of respite, Nura opted to retract some of the protective seals into his enchanted satchel. Nevertheless, the seals adorning his chest remained undisturbed, a silent testament to his lingering doubts concerning Commander Kisa’s trustworthiness. Despite outwardly acknowledging Kisa as the rightful commander, a lingering suspicion gnawed at Nura’s consciousness, hinting at veiled machinations that could jeopardize his interests.
"How is it that they managed to secure victory over us, despite the considerable number of battalions we marshaled for this battle? Even as I turned and fled, I couldn't fathom the possibility of their triumph, particularly within such a fleeting timeframe. Their conquest, was potent enough to compel even the King's Legion, renowned for its formidable prowess, to hastily retreat on foot. What unforeseen developments unfolded in the wake of my departure from the battlefield? What subtle shifts in strategy or circumstance led to this unexpected outcome?" Nura Bayajidda articulates the myriad questions swirling tumultuously in his mind to Commander Kisa, his voice tinged with a blend of incredulity and urgency.