There is a very strong nefesh near Ser Janpelan... and it's hostile.

Mavros continued interpreting the signals he captured with his keen senses.

Ser Janpelan... His nefesh is rapidly deteriorating! I can barely perceive it anymore!... The owner of that aggressive nefesh is attacking him... and everything indicates that he intends to kill him.

The last revelation ignited his alarms completely.

"Are you okay, Mavros?" Sheida still didn't understand what was happening. The fellow prisoner had been in that bewildering state for almost a minute. "Say something."

Mavros was clear about it: he couldn't stay idle.

"Sheida, I feel like something terrible is happening outside... Lives are at risk," he finally communicated with utmost seriousness, looking at the boy over his shoulder. "I can't stay here any longer. I have to go out immediately."

"What?... What are you talking about? No sounds from the outside reach here. How can you know what's happening outside?" The young man questioned, clearly confused.

Mavros ignored him and walked until he stood in front of the bars of his cell.

"And how on Senshan's dunes do you plan to get out of the cell without the keys?" Sheida continued questioning. "The jailer isn't even close for us to try to steal them."

Mavros grabbed a couple of bars with his hands and affirmed, "I don't need to leave by opening the door."

An amethyst aura emanated from his body, surrounding him from head to toe. His energy slowly flowed, changing its distribution and concentrating more in his arms and hands.

Nefesh! Sheida identified, amazed. Could it be?!

Amidst muffled grunts, Mavros pulled both bars, exerting an immense pressure.

"HYAAAAAAH!" he shouted with vigor.

What he did next left Sheida speechless. The bars he held, and others nearby, bent like flimsy wires in an instant. Their supports broke as if shaken by an earthquake, creating a wide enough hole to escape from his confinement.

"In... Incredible..." Sheida stammered. His lips were still stiff from the shock. "This is... the strength of an Abiyr…"

Mavros calmly walked out of the cell, as if he had opened the door to his own house.

"Sheida," he said without looking at him, "I'll see you again after all this is resolved. In the meantime, it's best for you to stay here."

"But...!"

Mavros hurried away before the boy could respond. He quickly ascended a staircase that led him to the door of the dungeons.

"Beautiful..." the knight sighed, tense. He tried pulling and pushing it by its handle, but the lock had been placed from the outside. "It's locked…”

On the other side of the door, the few guards remaining in the barracks were urgently searching different corners, their gazes shifting in all directions. They were looking for something or someone, but without any luck in finding a trace.

Three of them gathered right in front of the dungeon's door.

"Did you see her?" one of them asked the other two.

"No…"

Both shook their heads.

"She's nowhere to be found."

"She must have escaped without us realizing."

The one who asked the question lowered his head. His lips curved downward, struck by the fear that ran through his veins.

"Maskirio... We'll be roasted like rabbits…", he said.

BAM!

A sudden crash, followed by a loud thud, startled the three of them. The door of the dungeon had been knocked down. The first thing they saw in its frame was the extended fist of the escaping "prisoner." They were left silent; their previous terror instantly replaced by another, more immediate one.

"Where did you put my weapons?" Mavros asked them bluntly. There was no time for theatrics. "Take me to them now. I promise I won't harm you."

***

"Ser Janpe!" The soldiers desperately called for their leader.

Their cries were unable to penetrate the large water trap in which he was imprisoned by the power of Protereus, Captain Baharen’s cutlass. Baharen turned his back on his defenseless prey and addressed his crew, who were already aboard their vessel.

"Do we have any casualties?" he asked his subordinate, the sub-captain Taraked.

"Just a few injuries, no one has died. Hopefully, everyone will recover," he reported, standing at the bow of the Jinnad of the Seas. "But we lost half of the loot."

"That's what I wanted to hear," Baharen smiled with immense relief. He looked at the sky with gratitude. "Thanks to Senshan"

However, he then lowered his head in serious contemplation.

Several of those soldiers who attacked us were the ones who welcomed us when we arrived. I should have made sure they drowned. I underestimated them by thinking they wouldn't return after having a taste of the power of Protereus, he self-criticized. He had merely swept them out of his path with waves of water. My restraint almost cost my crew dearly.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

"You care more about your men than the riches they went to steal... worthy of a captain."

"Ah?!"

Someone had praised him from behind. It was his rival, none other than Ser Janpelan. The Holy Warrior stopped a few meters away from him. The effects of Zujae nim rhabla, the “Elder of the Seas", were evident: his posture had become more hunched and unstable as he struggled to stay upright, resisting the pressure that weighed down his shoulders and hindered his breathing.

But despite his hardships, his eyes didn't reflect the same hatred as before. On the contrary, they were filled with respect and a certain understanding for his adversary.

"You wretch... You're still standing," Baharen replied, disgusted by his tenacity. He turned back to his men on the ship. "Faricums! Set sail without me!" he ordered as he headed back to the port.

Initially, his crew was completely disoriented by that instruction, which they saw as delusional and suicidal. Baharen showed them his cutlass, pointing to its gem—a gesture that was enough to dispel all their concerns.

"Un... Understood, captain!" Taraked nodded. Then, he addressed the other corsairs. "Prepare the sails!"

While his men prepared to depart, Baharen returned his attention to the target of his personal vengeance.

"Your time has come!" The blade of his cutlass moved toward Janpelan in deadly strokes, strokes that the Holy Warrior managed to fend off using his mace as a shield with his last remaining strength.

"You... you are the son of Qadir Ibad, commander of the Sulfnat of Moruk navy," Janpelan murmured amidst their exchange.

"That's right. It's good that you've refreshed your memory, because I've come to bring justice by taking your life," Baharen asserted. "I know that you killed him!"

Baharen relentlessly attacked him with new blows filled with anger. Once again, the cutlass blade clashed with the sturdy metal of the mace.

"Yes, I fought him to the death in the waters of this city during the Nefeshic Wars... I was the victor," Janpelan acknowledged with cold melancholy. "I'm not proud of it, I mourn your loss... but you speak of 'justice' when you don't know what it's like to fight in a war. To defeat the enemy at all costs, to kill or end up losing your life in their hands. All of us who were sent to fight had to assimilate and abide by its rules, whether we liked them or not... And that includes your father and the other warriors of the Sulfnats. We both were just fulfilling our duty that day, and only one could return home to his family."

"You say I don't know what war is? That I don't understand its rules?" Baharen retorted, offended by his claims of ignorance and innocence. "Before you die, know that Baharen Ibad, captain of the Jinnad of the Seas, is part of the vanguard that will expel your infidel kingdoms from these ancestral lands."

"The vanguard?"

The corsair's attacking cutlass prevented the Ser from delving into that mention that sparked his curiosity.

***

Come on! I have to go faster! I can't tire out now!

Hundreds of meters away from the somber duel taking place at the port, Ser Janpelan's daughter embarked on the journey to the barracks. However, her legs, strained by the effort, responded less and less to her urgency.

The sweat emanating from her pores increasingly tempted her to stop.

"Curse…"

Suddenly, she saw a black flash. Something passed by her side at such speed that it blew her hair and dress with a refreshing gust of wind.

Could it be her?... Sheida wasn't exaggerating.

Mavros's eyes delighted in the brief image he could capture of the young woman. He tried to appreciate it once more by looking over his shoulder.

Perplexed, Luciara turned around.

It's... It's him! He's heading towards the port!

The aspiring Holy Warrior managed to clearly distinguish and recognize his figure for an instant.

Oh my! The knight returned his gaze forward. His distraction almost caused him to collide with a parked cart, which he narrowly avoided with an agile swerve. His course remained undeterred.

I'll ask Ser Janpelan to introduce her to me... after saving him, he said to himself, focused on what was important.

***

On the horizon, the Jinnad of the Seas slowly began to retreat, ready to return to the endless blue without its captain.

"Look!"

"They're leaving!”

"Did they kidnap Ser Janpe?!"

"Did they kill him?!"

The soldiers commented helplessly, frustrated by their inability to do anything to stop them and save their leader due to the walls of water erected around the dock.

I... I can't anymore...

Ser Janpelan depleted his last reserves of energy, deflecting and evading each of his opponent's violent cuts and thrusts. His vision became increasingly blurry. His oxygen-deprived muscles ceased to function.

No... more...

He finally collapsed, falling to his knees with his head bowed. No matter how much he tried to stand up again, it was impossible; the wicked "Elder of the Seas" who tortured him with his weight had pushed him to his physical limits.

Baharen approached him calmly, convinced of his indisputable victory.

"You will be my first casualty," he declared, brandishing his sword and preparing to sever his neck. "My first casualty in this new holy war."

This is where it ends... I will truly be reunited with my creator… The veteran Holy Warrior began to accept his fate with resignation. I'm sorry... Luciara... Menuha... I won't be able to bid you farewell…

He closed his eyes, bravely awaiting the blade's edge. Baharen raised his cutlass and walked over to stand beside him, ready to decapitate him.

But...

"What?!"

He stopped when he saw something appear above the watery wall of the dock, gracefully gliding over it to land between him and Ser Janpelan like an eagle. Overwhelmed by the force of its presence and its striking entrance, Baharen took several steps back.

You! Confused, Janpelan lifted his head and recognized him, his face filled with astonishment. But how?!

An Abiyr?... Impossible! Why have they returned?! What is one doing here?! the corsair wondered, observing him rise to his feet, paying special attention to his black armor and his weapons: a double-edged sword at his left hip and a staff protruding from his back. "Who are you?!" he exclaimed imperatively, pointing his cutlass at him and gritting his teeth.

Mavros assumed an impressive combat stance, with his left arm in front and his right arm behind him, just like his flexed legs.

"A wandering sword in service of justice!" he replied with passionate character and energy, swiftly changing his posture. "I am Ser Mavros of Havenfalls!"

The wandering knight would face the first of a formidable series of enemies. One of the many members of a fearsome vanguard whose shadow loomed over the legendary region of Najta.