There was a collective intake of breath at the Salsa's appearance.

"That's S..Sa...Sand... White Sand!" Prince Kiru stammered. He was the first to break the silence. White Sand was infamous over the world for over two hundred years.

He was said to be a pirate at one time. But no one knew it for sure. Aminiya magazine had once published a picture of him. That was in 1557AA. He was on a ship made of sand at the time. The magazine stalked him for a hundred years after that before finally succeeding in an interview with him. During the interview, his years of pol were estimated to be at least forty thousand at the time. However, the real reason for his fame was the bounty on his head.

As soon as Kiru pointed it out, the whispers began:

"I heard that his bounty was worth more than seven hundred million ayrids."

"They said his years of pol reaches a forty thousand."

"Cow Dung and Desert Wind are also with him. Both of them are kings in the Fifth Century AA."

"We are already overpowered in this battle. Do we have to continue?"

"I don't think so. This should be enough incentive for us. Let's clear the enemy out and show them never to cross us again."

Daljari's men seemed to be getting excited.

Daljari chuckled. He'd his trump all along for only an idiot would trust the jinzidal Kings. He turned to Bihanzin and said, "The end of this war is near. I advise you to show your plans if you have any."

Then he turned to Acid Rain and Red Rider with a meaningful look.

"Seven Worlds," the King called.

Pillars of light appeared at his back as soon as he said that. The pillars came together and transformed into a picture of all the seven worlds. You could see the fourteen hemispheres (seven on each side) clearly and even the two waterfalls at the center and the equatora in between them. A solid wall appeared behind the picture. Seven djinns sat on the wall, bearing otherworldly weapons. Their bodies were smeared with grave sand and they smelled of death.

The atmosphere became chilly. A song was heard from the wall. To the ears of everyone present, it was a wordless song. Yes, they could see the lips of the djinns moving and their bizarre bodies dancing slightly to the tune, but they couldn't hear a thing. They listened carefully but still couldn't get it. What they didn't know was that it was a foreign song that was sung in a foreign tongue. A tongue no longer in use. A tongue they couldn't understand or perceive.

Those that lived during the time of Amraikigyu recognized the song as the Song of Pol.

The two commanders understood the look King Daljari gave them. They chanted some incantations and ran to the center of the battlefield. For a long, commander Damjinu Djinn had killed their soldiers. It was time to retaliate.

Red Rider summoned a horse made of Negrinki and mounted.

Asifu raised his hands heaven-wards and drew some incantations on the air. A black veil appeared above him and expanded, eclipsing the battlefield. Then he chanted, "Catastrophic Downpour!"

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

A steamy yellow rain began to pour down from the veil.

Commander Damjinu saw what happened and left Bihanzin's side with Nakata and Dinandul to protect their men, but White Sand blocked their way.

There were three paths Bihanzin and his men could bypass King Daljari and help their men. White Sand had blocked one right now. So the Sisiyan princes tried to use the second path to escape, but Cow Dung stopped them midway.

Now there was only one path left. Desert Winds went and blocked it, effectively trapping Bihanzin and the others at the center.

"I know this is not the real perpetual damage. You have ten seconds to produce the real one or else face the consequences," Daljari warned Bihanzin. He knew him ever since he was young. He knew his strength. The perpetual damage was much stronger than what Bihanzin was currently showing.

Bihanzin raised his brow but didn't reply.

It was raining acid around Asifu. The acid dissolved anything that came into contact with it. All around the battlefield were panicked cries for help.

"Commander, help!"

"Commander Damjinu, help us!"

"We need your help!"

Surprisingly, Daljari's men remained unharmed where they stood. Most of them stood at one side, which attracted the attention of Bihanzin's men.

Some of the unfortunate men aimed for that part of the battlefield seeking shelter. They were almost there when a mountain emerged and blocked their path.

A red rider holding a red spear and riding a red horse stood in front of them. He was commander Red Rider.

He gave them a cruel smile and said, "You'd be wise not to cross this line." He pointed to a very thin line ahead of them.

They stopped short. Unable to move ahead or back. Behind them was the acid rain and in front of them was a monster. They were drenched in the acidic rain and their skin was melting. Their hair smelled of burn. It was impossible not to be enticed by the other side of the battlefield which was free of the rain.

One of them dared to cross the line. He gathered all his strength and jumped forward. But then his body stopped midair. He felt a sudden pressure compress his body. He tried to go back behind the line, but it was too late. He exploded into a pool of blood. His organs smeared the nearby men and forced them to take several steps back.

Daljari had had these monsters all the while, but because he wanted to avoid more bloodshed than necessary, he had waited. Now that he had little option, he used it to force Bihanzin into using his real sword. Once Bihanzin used it, Daljari would use his ultimate attack to kill him and the war would be over.

The men realized the commanders couldn't help them and they turned to Bihanzin for help.

"King Bihanzin, help us!"

"Please use your perpetual damage and save us."

"King Bihanzin!"

"Bihanzin!"

Daljari used that to urge him into action. "They're calling for you, Dark Orphan."

Bihanzin didn't make a move, but shut his eyes and started muttering.

His sons moved closer and tried to listen.

"SWORD WORSHIP! LIVE FOR THE SWORD!! DIE FOR THE SWORD!!!"

The children and commanders took up the chant with raised voices until it was heard by those far ahead.

"LIVE FOR THE SWORD!! DIE FOR THE SWORD!!!"

Nostalgia saw everything and she was heartbroken. She recognized the chant. It was the anthem, in Jekis, for those who were about to die. She looked between her husband and her father, trying to decide. Which one should she help first?

Armad's eyes were bloodshot and his veins bulged. Twenty minutes had passed since he started his duel with Uznu. None of them had succeeded in defeating the other yet. But despite putting up a confident air, Armad seemed to be approaching his limit. And Uznu was mostly unscathed.

"Don't deceive yourself thinking you can match with me," Uznu said. "I'll let you in on a little secret. My Negrinki is relatively weaker than those of my fellow Ashura kings. But being Uzzus, I have an advantage over them. Do you know what it is?" He laughed before saying, "I am the only one whose Negrinki is limitless. The same way my body is ageless and limitless. To think you can even fight me for this long is shameful to me."

"You sold me into slavery, captured my wife, and took Nusi to God-knows-where." Armad regarded Uznu for a while before he shook his head. "Forget it, I have changed my mind. I'll kill you today."

Armad pressed his left hand on his miyura. Rainbow light escaped from the miyura. It tore the black veil covering the battlefield and reached the sky. Armad's pol sky-rocketed once more.

10,000 years, 15,000 years, 20,000 years... It stopped at 30,000 years.

The veil was now completely torn off. And in its place was the rainbow.

Bihanzin's soldiers sighed with relief. The acid rain had stopped due to the rainbow. But they were mostly incapacitated by now and could no longer fight.