Unwanted Guest

The battlefield was silent now, except for the occasional groan from the wounded and the soft rustle of the wind through the ruined city. General Khalifa stood over Ramon, her spear still dripping with blood. The Sulten's once-proud face was a mask of fury, but the fire in his eyes had dimmed. His defiance, once unyielding, was now little more than a flicker. Victory had been secured.

Khalifa glanced around, taking in the devastation. Her soldiers, many of them battered and bruised, were gathering up the surviving enemies, binding their hands and preparing to haul them off to the makeshift prison outside the city walls. The once-mighty city of Bintan was in ruins. The walls of the Jasim mansion that had once stood tall and impenetrable were now little more than broken stone. The streets were littered with the dead.

"General," a voice broke through her thoughts. Khalifa turned to see Meliesse, limping slightly, but with a determined set to her jaw. Her red armor was streaked with blood—most of it not her own—and her hands trembled slightly from the exertion of battle. But her eyes were sharp and clear.

"We need to discuss what happens next," Meliesse said, her voice low. "This battle may be over, but there's still work to be done."

Khalifa nodded. Taking Bintan was just a primary mission. The real battle was coming up at Sworis/Amresh in a few days, and compared to what just happened here, that was going to be a different and more devastating battle. Taking either city while fighting against an army led by one of the Four God Swords was going to be an arduous task—just thinking about it gave General Khalifa a headache.

Khalifa crouched down, looking Ramon in the eyes. "You will answer for this," she said, her voice cold. "Your neutrality cost hundreds of lives. You had a chance to stand with your people, to protect them. Instead, you hoarded your resources and let them die for your pride."

Ramon's lip curled in contempt, but he said nothing. His silence was all the answer Khalifa needed.

She straightened up, turning back to Meliesse. "We need to stabilize the city. The Sulten's army is broken, but his supporters remain. We can't afford any uprisings."

Meliesse nodded. "I'll start organizing the cleanup." Meliesse turned to Rashid and spoke.

"You stare at us with hate, like we took everything from you, but I will tell you this: everything you see happening here wouldn't have been possible without your son, Majeed. His men opened the gates for General Khalifa and her men. His men helped us bring you down. So, if you are going to hate someone, hate him just as much as you would us. After all, you are responsible for him."

Rashid's eyes opened wide at the revelation. He always knew there was a traitor, but for it to be Majeed? Why? He knew Majeed had pressured him to choose a side, but he didn't expect him to do this… Rashid lowered his head in shame.

Khalifa looked down at Ramon once more, considering. His execution would be swift if she ordered it. But there was no need for her to stain her hands with his blood.

"Take him," she ordered her men, who grabbed Rashid from where he was kneeling.

As her men were dragging Rashid away, the air suddenly grew dense, as if a mountain was resting upon everyone's shoulders. Everyone, at that moment, stopped whatever they were doing as a new presence seemed to have entered the mansion. They all stared at the lone figure, a dark-skinned man with white hair and beard. His figure gave the impression of a seasoned warrior, and his appearance was as suffocating as it was dangerous. They all stared at Farouk, some with fear, others in admiration. The old dog was not an ally. In fact, he had made it clear that he was an enemy, but still, no one dared attack. Even if he was alone at the moment, they doubted his men were far behind—and they were not wrong.

Farouk's entrance into Bintan brought with it a suffocating tension that hung in the air like smoke. He was there not as a hero or enemy, but as a force of nature—unpredictable and dangerous. Every soldier who noticed him instinctively took a step back, recognizing the threat he posed. They knew better than to fight him. After all, with their numbers dwindling, none could afford to make an enemy of him in this fragile moment of victory. Meliesse frowned, but the battle-hardened Khalifa had a tint of fire in her eyes.

"You dare not," Meliesse prayed silently in her heart.

Farouk's eyes scanned the battlefield, his gaze cold and detached. He wasn't here to join the fight or claim the city. His mission was simple and focused—to find Rashid's daughter and her guard.

Immediately, his eyes fell on Rashid, who was held captive. He spoke in a cold tone.

"Where is your daughter?" His voice was quiet, but it carried the weight of a threat. "And the boy who was with her?"

After he spoke, Meliesse's brows furrowed. It seemed more people knew about the prince than she had imagined. If the old dog finds him first… that would be a troublesome outcome. But she didn't let her thoughts leak.

After a few seconds of silence, Farouk spoke again.

"Your daughter, Rashid. Where is she?" he asked again.

This time, Rashid was barely able to speak, but he did.

"Why... why are you looking for my daughter?" he asked.

"I'm not. I'm looking for the one she's with. A boy, I hear, with golden hair," he said.

"Oh..." Rashid thought. "Why would he be looking for Ashin? Did they cross paths, or is he related to the boy?"

Rashid's mind couldn't really register how Farouk could be linked with a nobody like Ashin.

"I sent them to the Whispering Mountains. I didn't want anything to happen to them here. Please, don't hurt my daughter," Rashid pleaded.

"No one can hurt your daughter," Farouk said. He turned to Khalifa and spoke again.

"Not even the gods will dare."