“The emperor sent half his troops toward us as a diversion—he plans to flank those coming from the safe camp.” The revelation made my head spin; dizziness threatened to overwhelm me, but I forced myself to stay upright.
At that moment, my closest comrades emerged from the tent, their expressions darkening as they overheard the news.
“That damn emperor,” Sky cursed.
“I knew he was plotting something, but targeting people’s loved ones?
He’s ruthless.” Ruthless—and clever.
In his position, I might have done the same.
But I didn’t care about his cunning or cruelty; my daughter was all that mattered now.
“What now, General?
I think we should stay and—”
“Then we’re going,” I interrupted, my voice cold as steel.
“I’m taking half our forces and heading to the safe camp.”
“General,” Jasmine interjected, “if you take even a quarter of our troops, our chances of winning against the royal knights are halved.
Take half, and we lose any hope of victory.” The others nodded in agreement.
“Then I’ll go alone.”
“What?!” they all shouted in unison.
“General, it’s suicide,” Bolde yelled.
“Yes, Asmari, if you leave, our chances of winning drop; we need your strength and commanding skills,” Lukas noted.
I completely ignored them, not uttering a word, and strode toward my horse.
Until a slender hand shot up and grabbed my wrist.
Sky held me; she gripped my wrist tightly, defiance blazing in her eyes.
“You’re not going.
It’s a suicide mission—you’ll never make it in time.
You’re the strongest fighter we have, and the best general.
We need y—”
“Sky,” I cut her off, my tone calm but cold.
“If you don’t let go of my wrist in the next three seconds, I’ll cut it off.” Sky didn’t flinch—her grip only tightened, defiance burning in her eyes.
“Asmari, think rationally.
You can’t save your dau—” She never finished.
Her blood-curdling scream echoed across the camp, drawing everyone’s attention.
“Ahhh, my arm!
My fucking arm!
Shit, it hurts—make it stop!” she begged, but I ignored her.
I sheathed my sword and vaulted onto my horse—only to hear the sound of countless swords being drawn at the same time.
I glanced around at every knight with whom I had once shared meals, drinks, and battles—now all of them pointed their swords at me.
“Asmari, don’t do this!
This is your last chance—step down.” I dismounted, my face unreadable.
Lukas, the man who had spoken, exhaled in relief, lowering his sword slightly.
“Thank you for un—” I didn’t let him finish.
Before he could react, I was in front of him, sword in hand, and with a lightning-fast slash, I severed his head.
Blood spattered across the grass as it tumbled to the ground, rolling to a stop at Jasmine’s feet.
My voice was cold and final as I delivered my verdict.
“If you insist on stopping me…” I let the silence linger.
“Then I’ll just have to kill every last one of you.” I saw a guard visibly gulp as some others stepped back in fear, but they didn’t back down.
Will you abandon all two million of them for one daughter?” Jasmin shouted in rage.
But I wasn’t going to stand still.
In a single stride—before anyone could react—I stood before two soldiers.
Their faces twisted in horror, but my longsword showed no mercy.
My blade cut through the first man’s chestplate—blood spraying as he collapsed to the ground—then, in one fluid motion, struck down the second.
The second man hit the ground hard, terror frozen on his face.
The others realised I was beyond reason.
They rushed me, weapons raised, forming a tight circle around me.
In a blur, I darted forward and closed the distance to another soldier.
My blade swept in a horizontal arc, taking his head clean off—blood arcing through the air as his body crumpled to the ground.
A spear darted at me from behind, but I shifted my grip and deflected it with a sharp parry.
“General—” he tried to plead, but I didn’t hesitate.
My blade arced in a diagonal slash across his chest; blood sprayed as he went limp and collapsed heavily.
Sensing danger behind me, I spun and caught a vertical strike, the clash of steel ringing out across the chaos.
But they were relentless.
Another attacker lunged from the left, sword swinging.
I ducked beneath his attack, caught him off balance, and slashed him across the ribs.
Blood splashed as he hit the ground.
Instantly, I dropped and drove an upward kick to the next assailant’s chin, sending him sprawling.
Another opponent rushed me from behind, but I spun and swept his ankle, sending him sprawling onto his back.
In one motion, I drove my sword through his heart—his blood pooling beneath him as he went still.
I yanked my sword free and charged another soldier, cutting him down before he could react.
Blood sprayed as his body crumpled.
Three more opponents attacked from above in unison.
At the last instant, I leapt, landing atop an enemy and impaling him as we crashed to the ground.
Blood seeped across his chest as I rose and grabbed his sword.
Now dual-wielding, I cut down foes to either side before they could even cry out, their bodies thudding into the dirt.
I slashed one man down, then turned to strike another, but he blocked my attack.
Instantly, I drove my other sword into his throat.
Blood gushed around me as I was flanked on all sides.
On my left, I kicked a soldier’s knee, snapping it inward with a sickening crack.
He howled, and I wrenched my sword from the first man’s throat, spinning to sever the next attacker’s head—blood spraying as the attacker dropped to the ground.
I swung at a man in front of me, but he dodged at the last moment, throwing off my balance.
He landed a clean slash across my back—hot blood ran down my side—but I recovered and cut him down, sending him sprawling into the dirt.
I leapt back toward the centre, breath ragged as pain flared in my side.
Around me, bodies littered the grass—I don’t know how many men had already fallen.
The rest, seeing my battered state, roared a furious battle cry and charged from all sides.
I charged them, whirling my swords.
I stabbed one man, a guttural groan escaping him as my blade burst from his back.
Flinging his body into the crowd, I ripped my sword free, ending him.
I spun, cutting down three more in rapid succession before they could even draw breath.
One enemy slipped behind me; I dodged his spear at the last instant, but he still managed to graze me.
As I turned to strike him, another swordsman lunged at me.
I dodged and impaled him through the heart, but the spearman managed to drive his weapon through my shoulder. New chapters come out on g.com first.
A pained groan escaped my lips.
I hurled my sword at a person attacking from the front, striking his forehead, effectively killing him instantly.
I yanked the spear from my shoulder—and from the spearman’s grasp—then stabbed him with it.
The relentless assault didn’t even give me time to pull it free.
Every time I dodged one attack, another came from a different angle, not giving me a moment’s respite.
The more I dodged, the slower I became.
Dozens of small cuts accumulated, and my deeper wounds worsened.
I hurled my spear with such force that it pierced one man and struck another behind him.
But in that moment of weakness, Bolde slipped behind me and severed my sword hand, blood spurting from the wound.
A guttural scream tore from me, rage simmering in my eyes as I stared at my severed hand.
Desperation drove me forward—I lunged at Bolde like a wounded predator.
Bolde raised his sword defensively, not a hint of regret on his face.
I snatched up a blade with my left hand and hurled it at him.
He deflected it, his guard faltering for just a moment—exactly what I needed.
I slipped past his guard and, before he could react, sank my teeth into his neck—tearing away a chunk of flesh in a single, savage motion.
His scream echoed across the battlefield as I grappled with his bleeding neck, collapsing to my knees.
The others stared in terror, none daring to move.
When no one moved, I spat out the flesh and tore a strip from my shirt to bind my bleeding arm.
Then, grabbing Bolde’s sword, I ended his suffering with a swift thrust to the heart.
He let out an agonising scream, but it was mercifully brief.
Blood pooled beneath him as the life fled his eyes.
Even for the knights, it was too much.
Several of them vomited up their dinner in horror.
Some even dropped their swords in fear of what they were seeing.
My gaze swept the crowd, my bloodshot eye daring anyone to approach.
But no one dared—especially when they saw the desperation and burning in my orange eyes.
I strode to my horse, armour clinking as I mounted without resistance.
The crowd parted before me, none daring to meet my gaze—instinctual fear etched on their faces.
I didn’t know how I looked at that moment, but I knew the only thing driving me was the desperation to save my daughter.
Just as I was about to ride away, a female voice rang out.
“Are you all really going to let him go?!” It was Sky, her injured arm hastily bandaged, her whole body trembling with fury.
But no one shared her rage—no one dared move against me.
It wasn’t that they couldn’t overpower me; they certainly could.
But they knew the first couple of people to attack would die—there was no doubt.
No one felt the urge to play hero when my only intention was to leave.
They stood to lose more by stopping me than by letting me go.
But Sky was relentless.
“Stop him now!” she demanded, but again, no one listened.
I signalled my horse, and it shot forward.
Sky’s screams echoed behind me, fading into the distance as my mind raced ahead.
Hours later, I came near the place where they had set up camp.
Smoke rose into the sky; the odour of burning wafted on the wind.
My stomach twisted with dread.
I pushed my heels to the horse’s flanks, spurring her into a gallop toward the camp.