Gathering

After Karkal had withdrawn from the battlefield, there was no one stopping General Khalifa from wreaking havoc. She took the chance Karkal had given her and fought off the enemy without holding back. Of course, it wasn't enough to defeat everyone singlehandedly, but their objective was clear: take out Rashid and capture Ramon. The latter, at least, she accomplished immediately upon arriving.

Khalifa had made her deal with Karkal, and now time was of the essence. The city of Bintan was crumbling under the weight of war, and she could feel the tension in the air as she sprinted toward the Jasim mansion. Her heart pounded not from fear, but from the urgency of her mission. The sound of weapons clashing against weapons, the cries of the wounded, and the heavy scent of blood lingered thick in the air, guiding her through the chaotic streets. She didn't need directions—the battlefield itself was her map, and the roaring noise ahead told her she was close.

The streets of Bintan were filled with fallen soldiers, some clutching their weapons even in death. Others writhed in pain, blood pooling beneath them as they cried out for help that would never come. Houses lay in ruins, the once-bustling city now a shadow of its former self. Smoke billowed from the burning wreckage of homes and markets, casting a gloomy haze over the battlefield. Every step she took was a reminder of the high stakes at hand.

She didn't know the exact layout of the mansion, but the Jasim estate was in the distance. Its walls, now crumbling in certain areas, had once stood as a symbol of strength in Bintan. Now, they were nothing but remnants, barely able to contain the battle raging inside. The distinct clang of weapons drew her nearer. Her senses heightened as she approached the center of the action.

At last, Khalifa reached the battlefield outside the mansion. Bodies littered the ground, blood turning the earth beneath her boots into thick mud. The air was thick with the stench of sweat, death, and burning wood. She scanned the area quickly, looking for her target. The cacophony of war was deafening—battle cries, orders being shouted, the anguished moans of the dying, all blending into a single, chaotic symphony. Men and women fought tooth and nail, some desperately, others with grim determination. She could see the fatigue on both sides, yet the fight for survival raged on, neither willing to back down.

Khalifa's eyes narrowed. There was no time to relish the destruction around her—she had a mission. The first thing she did was try to locate Meliesse. But the chaos made it difficult. Soldiers in battered armor clashed, some with their swords gleaming under the sun, others stained dark with blood. Arrows whistled overhead, some finding their marks, others embedding uselessly into the cracked stone walls.

She needed a vantage point. Khalifa spotted a small pagoda beside the gate of the mansion. It was one of the few structures still standing amidst the devastation, though its roof was half-collapsed, its wooden frame was under the pressure of the battle shaking the ground beneath it. Without hesitation, she ran toward it, her eyes darting from side to side, cutting down any soldier who dared to stand in her way.

With a swift and agile leap, Khalifa hoisted herself onto the roof, taking a moment to steady her breath. From here, she could survey the entire battlefield. The sight was grim. The mansion grounds were a battleground of their own. Flames crackled from the nearby buildings, casting a haunting glow over the combatants below. The sound of clashing metal, grunts of exertion, and the sharp cries of those who fell filled her ears, and the heavy silence of those already dead.

She stayed focused on her mission, her sharp gaze scanning the battlefield. She was searching for any sign of Meliesse. Her eyes swept over the chaos, her heart racing with urgency. The pressure mounted with each passing second. And then, there—a flash of red in the distance.

Her breath caught as she saw a woman in red armor wielding two knives, locked in a desperate fight against a tall, burly man. Both were wounded, their movements slower than they had been at the start of the battle. But neither gave an inch. Their faces were exhausted, but they fought with the determination of those who had no choice. Khalifa focused in on the woman's features, her body covered in grime, her hair matted with sweat and blood, but there was no mistaking the fierceness in her eyes.

That's her, Khalifa thought. That has to be Meliesse.

She kept watching, waiting for confirmation. The woman dodged a heavy swing from the man's sword, her body swaying as if it were about to give out. The burly man's attacks were relentless. His sword crashed down again and again, each time coming closer to its mark. Meliesse was on the defensive now, and Khalifa knew she couldn't hold out much longer.

The man caught Meliesse's wrist as she tried to counter, forcing her to drop her knife. Disarmed, she stepped back, her eyes wide with desperation. She was cornered. Khalifa's heart raced as she saw the man raise his sword for what would surely be the killing blow.

She moved without thinking. With speed born of years on the battlefield, Khalifa ran across the roof, her feet barely making a sound as she built up momentum. She had to act quickly, or Meliesse was as good as dead. As the man's sword came down, she hurled her spear with all her might. The weapon sliced through the air, a deadly blur, and pierced the man's side with a sickening thud.

The man—Rashid— stumbled, his eyes widening in shock as the spear skewered him. Blood spurted from the wound, staining the ground as he fell to his knees, gasping for breath. He tried to stay upright, but his body betrayed him. With one final groan, he collapsed, his sword slipping from his grasp.

The battle raged on for a few more minutes, but with Rashid down, it was only a matter of time before the rest of the army surrendered. Khalifa had just saved the day—but it had come at a steep cost. The ground was littered with the bodies of the dead and dying, both friend and foe. Victory felt hollow in the face of so much loss.

When the dust settled, Ramon was dragged from his mansion and thrown at Khalifa's feet. Bloodied but defiant, he looked up at her with fury in his eyes.

"You monster!" he spat, his gaze moving from her to Meliesse, who stood nearby, battered but alive, sitting on a corpse he recognized as his son, Nasim "You, you killed my son. You destroyed my city!"

"Oh, please," Khalifa said coldly, "Your city was already in ruins the moment you decided to sit on the sidelines, pretending the war wouldn't touch you. Neutrality was never an option, not with the resources you were hoarding."

She stepped closer, her voice low and dangerous. "You thought you could stay out of this fight while everyone else bled. But this… this is the price of your arrogance."

Ramon snarled but said nothing more. He knew it was over. Khalifa turned to Meliesse, nodding slightly. The battle was done. Bintan was theirs.