Chapter Six: The Fall of Benin

The night was coming to an end, marking the fourth day since Juba's lifeless body arrived in Benin. Just as Yoname had warned, four days after witnessing Nehizena's killer, Benin would fall. And now, she stood at the gates of the mighty kingdom, believing with all her heart that its towering walls would not stop her conquest.

Yoname's army halted a short distance from Benin's walls at her command. King Mpande rode up beside her, his expression firm. "It would be best if we launch the giant catapults now and bring those walls down," he suggested.

Yoname smiled, shaking her head. "Fierce, but a poor strategy, Mpande. A kingdom is at its weakest when the battle is fought inside, not outside. If we launch the catapults now, Benin will have time to form a defense, pushing us away from their borders. But if we strike from within, they will be thrown into chaos—torn between protecting their queen, defending their people, or fending off their enemies. That is where our victory lies."

Mpande narrowed his eyes. "And how do you intend to carry out this plan?"

Yoname's gaze remained fixed on the walls ahead. "I have the perfect man inside Benin. He will execute my plan flawlessly. Once we receive his signal from the southern gates, we march in. Until then, Juba's army should sneak towards the southern gates and wait. When the time comes, they will infiltrate, eliminate the archers, and open the main gates for us. If possible, they'll clear the way entirely, ensuring an easy entry."

Mpande asked, "And how will we recognize this signal?"

Yoname's smirk deepened. "When the signal comes, you'll know. Send Juba's men to the southern gates. Meanwhile, Massinissa and his warriors should ready the catapults."

Mpande nodded. "Your plan is well-coordinated. We will move accordingly." With that, he rode off, leaving Yoname alone with her thoughts.

She remained on her horse, eyes locked on the walls of Benin. A whisper escaped her lips, carried by the wind. "My love, wherever you are, know that I am keeping the promise I made to you. Your conquest continues, following the path you desired—the path best for our children. But at the same time, I am avenging my mother's blood. I'm sorry if you don't agree, but I seek peace in my heart, and through this revenge, I hope to find it… Nehikhare, my love."

Reaching into her dress, she pulled out Nehizena's ancestral necklace, holding it close to her chest. Memories of her husband flooded her mind, and for a moment, the fierce warlord was just a grieving woman. She wiped her tears quickly, shaking her head as if casting away the emotions. Her expression hardened once more, but her eyes—her betraying eyes—still carried the weight of her sorrow.

Juba's men crept under the shadows of Benin's walls, moving with such precision that the archers and soldiers above failed to notice them.

Nosaze had structured the city's defense in shifts, ensuring that the walls and borders remained secured at all times. At the southern gates, Usifo and his men had just completed their shift when another group of soldiers arrived to take over. Moments later, Usifo and his men returned.

The new shift leader, puzzled, frowned at them. "General Usifo, your shift just ended. Why are you back so soon?"

Usifo offered a reassuring smile. "Benin's safety is my highest priority. I thought you might need an extra hand."

The leader hesitated before nodding. "Well, I can't say no to reinforcements. We could use the extra help."

Usifo smirked. "If that's the case, I'd love to open the gates."

The leader's expression darkened. "Are you insane? The enemy is right outside! If this is some kind of joke—"

Usifo cut him off coldly. "You know I hate jokes."

A sudden, eerie silence fell over them. The leader stepped back, sensing something was wrong—too late.

"Get them," Usifo commanded.

Without hesitation, his men struck. They swiftly overpowered the unsuspecting guards, cutting them down in a merciless ambush. Some of Usifo's men scaled the walls, launching a relentless assault on the archers, hurling them over the edge to their deaths.

With the area secured, Usifo and his men rolled out kegs of oil, stacking them against the southern gates. He lifted a torch and threw it onto the barrels. The fire roared to life, igniting the oil, and within moments, a massive explosion tore through the gates, shattering them into burning debris. The path was open.

From afar, Yoname and her army watched the flames rise into the night sky.

Mpande turned to her. "Is that our signal?"

Yoname smirked. "Told you—you'd know it when you saw it."

Turning away, she commanded, "Ready the army. We march in no time."

She glanced at the horizon and muttered, "Look—the sun is rising. We should be inside before its light reaches Benin."

Mpande moved to rally the army, preparing them to charge through the breach.

Ekundayo approached Yoname, his voice urgent. "My queen, the southern gates have been breached. Shouldn't we enter through them?"

Yoname's gaze was steely. "I am not sneaking my way into this kingdom, Ekundayo. I will enter through the main gates."

Ekundayo nodded. "Then we must get them open immediately."

Yoname smirked. "Mpande has that under control. By the time Nosaze realizes what's happening, her kingdom will have already suffered."

She turned away, heading to prepare for battle.

Meanwhile, the soldiers of Benin sounded their war horns, sending alarms through the city. Soldiers scrambled to the walls, attempting to warn the guards at the gates.

A fierce battle erupted. The soldiers of Benin fought with determination, managing to hold back Juba's men at first. But when Mpande arrived with his forces—alongside a wave of Yoname's warriors—the tide of battle shifted. Benin's soldiers struggled against the overwhelming enemy, and chaos spread through the city.

Yet, Nosaze remained unaware of the devastation that had already begun.

Nosaze sat on her throne, Asemota beside her, discussing her dream with the priests and noble retainers when the doors burst open.

Amadin and a group of generals rushed in, urgency burning in their eyes. "My queen!" Amadin exclaimed.

Nosaze flinched, pausing mid-sentence. She turned to him, sensing the weight of his voice.

"Terror and war have fallen upon Benin," Amadin continued. "A traitor has breached the southern gates, allowing Yoname's army to charge in. As I speak, men, women, and children are being slaughtered in the streets, running for their lives. Our armies are outmatched, and even now, Yoname's soldiers march toward the palace. We must flee immediately and get you to safety!"

Fear gripped the room. The priests, retainers, and warriors murmured in alarm. Even Nosaze felt her heart pound against her chest.

She tried to steady herself, but the voices around her blurred into an indistinct hum. Even Asemota's comforting hand on hers felt distant. Her mind raced, struggling to grasp the enormity of what was happening.

Then, a chief's voice broke through the haze. "My queen, what do we do?"

Nosaze took a deep breath, straightening her posture. Her pride would not allow her to crumble. She rose to her feet, her voice regaining its strength.

"Amadin, ready my swords."

Amadin hesitated for only a moment before nodding and stepping away to fetch them.

Nosaze continued, "Clear the palace. Families, women, and children must be taken to safety. Uyiro, see that the people outside the palace find refuge."

Uyiro and several soldiers bowed before rushing off to carry out her orders.

Oriri, his face stricken with concern, stepped forward. "My queen, you must be taken to safety. I cannot let Yoname and her army kill you. We swore an oath to protect you, no matter what. Please, go to safety while we handle this."

Before Nosaze could respond, Amadin returned, presenting her dual swords. She took them from his hands and turned to Oriri.

"Being a queen does not make me any different from you."

Oriri frowned, confused. "What?"

Nosaze's voice was unwavering. "But still, I will need you to guide the people to safety. If death wishes to take me in battle, let it come—I will not hide or run away."

Oriri shook his head fiercely. "My queen, I cannot let you do that!"

"Oriri, that is an order!" Nosaze's voice rang through the chamber, sharp and commanding.

Oriri flinched but stood his ground, his eyes pleading.

Then, her tone softened, almost pleading in return. "Please… do this for me."

For a moment, Oriri stood frozen, torn between duty and fear for his queen. Then, swallowing his protests, he bowed deeply and left to fulfill her command.

A general stepped forward. "My queen, the attack is fiercest at the northern gates. What do you suggest we do?"

Before Nosaze could answer, Amadin spoke. "My queen, my men and I will hold the northern gates. We'll buy the people time to escape."

Nosaze turned to him, searching his face. "Amadin… I don't know what to say. If you believe this is the best course of action, then you have my blessing."

Amadin bowed and turned to leave with his men. But just before stepping through the doors, he hesitated, looking back at her. A faint smile crossed his face—a rare glimpse of comfort in the midst of chaos.

"My queen," he said, his voice steady, "your father chose well when he named you his heir. It has been the greatest honor to serve you and this kingdom, even in its darkest hour."

Something inside Nosaze broke. Before she could stop herself, she rushed forward and embraced him tightly, her swords clattering softly against his armor.

Tears welled in her eyes. "Amadin, I don't know how to thank you… or why it must end this way. You have been a pillar of strength for me, and I was blind to it until now."

Amadin patted her back gently. "You have nothing to regret, Nosaze. You were young and tender, yet you carried responsibilities that many of us could not. Your father would be proud of you, my child."

Nosaze stepped back, wiping her tears away. Her emotions threatened to break through, but she forced herself to stand tall. She could grieve later.

Now, there was only battle.

Her voice, now firm and unshaken, rang through the chamber.

"We march."

The Fate of Benin

Nosaze, with Amadin at her side and her generals flanking her, marched out of the palace, each step heavy with the weight of war. The scent of burning wood and blood filled the air, a grim reminder of the chaos outside. But before they could fully emerge—

The great doors of the palace hall exploded inward.

A flood of Yoname's warriors stormed in, their movements swift, their blades gleaming under the torchlight. They were unlike any enemy Nosaze had ever faced. Their strikes were precise, their footwork so sharp it seemed unnatural, as if they had trained for nothing else but absolute dominance in battle.

Their armor was light yet sturdy, built for speed, and on their heads, they wore wooden helmets carved in the shape of snarling dog heads. The hollow eyes of the carved beasts seemed to stare into the souls of their enemies, and with each step, the warriors exuded an unshakable confidence—the kind that only belonged to those who had never known defeat.

For a moment, fear clawed at Nosaze's chest.

She had seen war, but this was different. These were not reckless raiders, nor overconfident conquerors. They were executors of war, men who fought not just to win, but to dismantle, to erase.

Her grip tightened on her dual swords.

No time for fear. No time for doubt.

She took a sharp breath. "For Benin!" she roared, her voice cutting through the chaos like a blade. And then she charged.

The battle erupted into a storm of steel and blood.

Nosaze's swords moved like extensions of herself, carving through the enemy ranks. One warrior lunged at her, his curved blade aimed for her ribs. She twisted, parried, then slashed upward—his blood splattered against the palace walls.

To her right, Amadin moved like a beast unleashed, his sword cleaving through flesh and bone. But the enemy did not break. They did not hesitate. Even as they fell, they struck back, using every last breath to kill.

A warrior with a massive blade swung at Nosaze's head. She barely ducked in time, the blade whistling just above her skull. Another came at her—quick, too quick. She blocked one strike, but his second blade came from the other side, faster than she expected.

Pain ripped through her side.

She gasped but didn't falter. Instead, she turned her pain into fury. She kicked her attacker backward and, before he could recover, drove both her swords into his chest.

"Keep moving, my queen!" Amadin's voice boomed through the chaos.

They fought their way through the halls, every step a battle, every breath a struggle. The walls once adorned with royal banners were now painted with blood.

Step by step, they forced their way out.

When they finally broke through the palace doors, the scene outside was far worse.

Benin was in flames.

The streets were drowning in chaos—women and children fled, warriors clashed, buildings crumbled under fire and destruction. Smoke curled into the sky like the hands of vengeful spirits.

Amadin turned to Nosaze, blood staining his armor. His voice was steady, but there was urgency in his eyes. "My queen, my men and I will head to the north gates. Please, be safe."

Nosaze met his gaze, her expression unreadable. Then, she nodded. "Good luck, General."

With that, Amadin and his warriors vanished into the battlefield, swords drawn.

Nosaze exhaled sharply, wiping sweat and blood from her brow. This was her kingdom. This was her home. And if the enemy thought she would cower and run, they did not know Nosaze.

She raised her swords.

"Charge!"

The Fall of Benin's Main Gate

All the gates of Benin had been breached—except one.

The main gate, the one Yoname desired most, still stood. The only thing separating her from complete conquest. Her warriors had brought down the other entrances, but this gate proved resilient.

Her battering rams pounded against it relentlessly, shaking the iron and wooden frame with every impact. But the soldiers of Benin refused to let it fall easily. Archers rained arrows down from the walls, striking her warriors below, while Benin's foot soldiers braced against the doors, pushing with all their might to hold the enemy back.

Outside the city, Yoname stood still, eyes sharp as the rising sun bathed her in gold. Her patience was running thin.

She turned to a nearby warrior. "What is the status of the gate?"

The soldier bowed. "My queen, the army and archers of Benin are holding strong. The rams alone are not enough."

Yoname exhaled sharply. She hated delays. And this—this was a delay.

Her gaze lifted to the morning sky. The sun had risen. Time was slipping through her fingers. If Benin's defenses were not shattered now, they might rally, might find a way to turn the tide. She would not allow that.

She turned back to the soldier, her voice cold and certain. "Tell Massinissa and his men to release the catapults on the gate. I want this delay removed."

The soldier bowed low before rushing off.

A moment later, his voice rang through the army.

"LAUNCH THE CATAPULTS!"

The order was repeated again and again, traveling like wildfire through the ranks.

Massinissa, standing near the siege weapons, lifted his hand. The signal.

His men adjusted the massive catapults, pulling their ropes tight. A thunderous creak echoed through the battlefield as the mechanisms were released.

Then—the first stone flew.

It soared through the sky, casting a dark shadow over Benin's main gate.

From atop the walls, an archer's voice broke through the air. "INCOMING!"

But only a few heard him in time.

The massive stone slammed into the gate with earth-shaking force.

The impact sent a violent shockwave through the wooden beams, splintering them instantly. The soldiers pushing the gate screamed as the force threw them backward. Above, archers were crushed beneath the falling debris, their arrows never loosed.

The main gate of Benin collapsed.

A stunned silence fell for only a second—before a powerful voice roared from the ranks of Yoname's army.

"THE MAIN GATE HAS FALLEN! CHARGE!"

A deafening battle cry erupted.

Yoname's heart hardened. Her lips curled into something between a smirk and a snarl. Victory was close.

She unsheathed her sword and pointed forward.

"TO THE GATES!"

Her army surged forward, flooding through the broken entrance like a tidal wave of death.

And with that, the war became even bloodier than before.

The battle raged like a storm, and despite the combined strength of Benin's warriors and the skilled fighters from Gao, Yoname's forces remained an unrelenting wave of destruction. The Kushite warriors—towering figures of muscle and might—smashed through the ranks, their blows breaking shields, shattering bones, and forcing the soldiers of Benin and Gao to fight desperately for every inch of ground.

Amidst the chaos, Yoname strode into the city like a war goddess, her twin dogs at her sides, their black fur matted with the blood of fallen men. Her dual chain blades, glinting under the scorching sun, dangled at her sides, but she walked with an eerie calm, her eyes scanning the battlefield not for enemies, but for Nosaze.

The moment she stepped forward, a soldier from Gao, his spear gripped tightly in his hands, lunged at her. But before his weapon could reach her, her dogs exploded into action. They leaped at him, fangs bared, dragging him to the ground with terrifying force. His screams pierced through the clash of metal as the beasts tore into his flesh, blood spraying across the dust-covered battlefield.

More soldiers charged her, blades raised high.

With a flick of her wrists, Yoname spun her dual chain blades, the chains slithering through the air like living serpents. The soldiers hesitated for a split second, but it was a fatal mistake.

She snapped her wrists. The chains whistled through the air, striking with brutal precision. A sickening crack—one soldier's face shattered under the force. Another's helmet flew off as his head whipped back violently.

The soldiers gritted their teeth and pushed forward, determination burning in their eyes. They would not let her pass.

Yoname let out a sharp breath and adjusted her grip.

With a sudden movement, she swung both chains outward, holding them like whips, the metal links gleaming as they slashed through the air.

The first whip lashed across a soldier's chest, ripping open his armor and sending him stumbling back, coughing blood. The second coiled around another man's arm—before he could react, she yanked it back, snapping his elbow in the wrong direction.

The air filled with the sounds of agony.

Her dogs moved like shadows, sinking their teeth into the fallen, dragging them into the dust, their snarls blending into the cacophony of war.

More warriors tried to surround her, desperation in their eyes.

But Yoname was a force of destruction. She stepped forward, swinging her chain blades in a whirlwind of brutality, flogging men aside like mere insects. Metal cracked against flesh, bones snapped, men dropped to their knees howling in pain.

The battlefield became a symphony of carnage, and still, Yoname barely acknowledged the chaos.

She was coming for Nosaze.

Buildings of Benin crumbled one after another, reduced to rubble by the relentless barrage of Yoname's giant catapults. The city's very foundation trembled, but Nosaze did not stop. She fought like a storm, her blades carving through flesh and bone. Descending the steps outside her palace, she cut down an enemy with a swift slash. Another charged, wielding dual swords, but she lunged forward, stabbing both blades into his stomach. The soldier let out a guttural groan of agony, his body shuddering. Without hesitation, Nosaze ripped her swords free, and as he knelt in pain, she ended him with a single, merciless stroke—his head rolling to the blood-soaked ground.

But Yoname's army kept coming. Nosaze and her warriors pushed through the tide of enemies, refusing to yield. Some of Yoname's soldiers bypassed her entirely, knowing their queen sought to face Nosaze personally. Yet, Nosaze fought on, even as the tide of battle threatened to wash over her.

In the chaos, as Benin's warriors guided civilians to safety, Nosaze's sharp eyes caught sight of a small girl standing frozen amidst the dust and carnage. A soldier from Mpande's ranks emerged from the haze, mounted on a charging horse, his sword raised—aimed straight for the child.

Nosaze's heart pounded. She knew she wouldn't reach the girl in time. Without hesitation, she whipped out one of her dual swords and hurled it with deadly precision. The blade found Its mark, piercing through the soldier's chest. He let out a strangled cry, tumbling from his horse. But the horse, still in full gallop, thundered toward the girl, its hooves poised to crush her.

Nosaze didn't think—she moved.

She sprinted and, in a heartbeat, slid across the bloodied ground, throwing herself between the girl and the oncoming beast. The impact sent the horse stumbling, crashing to the earth. The child clung to Nosaze, shaking with terror.

Nosaze held her close and met her wide, tear-filled eyes. "It's okay," she whispered. "I'll take you to safety."

"I'm scared," the girl whimpered.

A pained groan made Nosaze whip around. The Mpande soldier, still alive despite the sword buried in his chest, struggled to rise. With a cold, determined gaze, Nosaze stood, gripping her remaining sword. She stepped forward and, with a swift thrust, finished him off, pulling both her blades free from his body.

Through the chaos, she spotted General Ulamen, Amadin's fierce second-in-command, locked in battle. Wasting no time, Nosaze rushed to her side, handing over the child.

"Ulamen!" she called. "Take this child to Oriri. He's leading the civilians to safety. You must go with him."

Ulamen hesitated. "My queen, you're bleeding—"

"This blood means nothing," Nosaze snapped. "Don't waste time on me. Just go!"

Ulamen's eyes filled with emotion. She knew Nosaze would never abandon the battlefield, not when the fight was still raging. With a heavy heart, she grasped Nosaze's arm and whispered, "May the Almighty guide you, my queen. I hope you come back safe."

Nosaze pulled her close, their foreheads touching, silent tears in their eyes. "You too," she whispered. Then, her voice hardened. "Now go. GO!"

Without another word, Ulamen gathered the child and rushed off.

Nosaze turned back toward the war, her grip tightening around her swords. With a fierce cry, she charged once more into the fray.

The battle grew fiercer, its chaos swallowing the city of Benin. Victory slipped further from Benin's grasp as Yoname's forces surged like an unstoppable tide. Amid the clash of steel and the cries of the wounded, Yoname's piercing gaze locked onto Aigbe—one of Nosaze's elite warriors, the man she despised more than any other in Benin. He was the one who had killed her mother, General Okankan, staining his hands with blood Yoname had vowed to avenge.

Aigbe fought valiantly, his blade slick with sweat and blood, but exhaustion clung to him like a shadow. The moment he met Yoname's eyes across the battlefield, a wave of memories crashed over him—visions of Okankan's death flashing like echoes of a past he couldn't outrun. Fear gripped him. He knew Yoname would not grant him a swift death; she would make him suffer, dragging him through agony for what he had done.

Panic surged through Aigbe's veins. Without a second thought, he turned his back on the battle and fled, desperate to escape the wrath he knew was coming. Yoname's lips curled into a cold, savage smirk. She raised her hand and gave a sharp whistle that cut through the roar of war like a dagger.

From the thick dust of battle, her dogs emerged—monstrous beasts with blood-streaked muzzles and snarls that sent shivers down the spines of even the bravest warriors. Yoname extended her arm, pointing directly at Aigbe. The dogs needed no further command. With guttural growls, they lunged after him, their powerful legs tearing through the blood-soaked earth as they gave chase.

Aigbe's heart pounded like a war drum as he ran for his life, dodging fallen bodies and leaping over shattered debris. He wasn't ready to die—not like this. His breaths came in ragged gasps, but the snarls of Yoname's hounds grew louder, closer, until they were the only sound he could hear.

Meanwhile, Yoname stood amidst the carnage, unbothered by the chaos raging around her. Her eyes, cold and calculating, drifted from Aigbe's fleeing form back to the battlefield, scanning the horizon for the true prize—Nosaze.

A Warrior's Last Stand

The heat at the north gates grew unbearable, the air thick with smoke, blood, and the stench of death. Amadin and his men fought with every ounce of strength left in their battered bodies, their blades clashing against Yoname's relentless forces. The ground was slick with blood, screams echoing like a dark chorus around them. Yet, despite the overwhelming odds, Amadin and his warriors did not yield.

But amid the chaos, Amadin's sharp mind recognized a bitter truth—they couldn't hold the gates forever. Someone had to deliver word of this desperate battle to King Sonni. If they all died here without sending word, Benin's fall would be a silent one.

His eyes darted through the haze, scanning his dwindling forces until they settled on a young soldier, his armor stained with sweat and blood, yet still fighting with fierce determination. Amadin pushed through the clash of bodies, grabbing the young man by the arm and yanking him toward a small corner where a lone horse was tied, its eyes wide with fear.

"What's your name, young man?" Amadin's voice was rough, urgent.

The soldier, panting heavily, replied, "My name is Kossi—Fahd Kossi, my Lord."

Amadin's eyes narrowed slightly. "You're Gao, aren't you?"

"Yes, my Lord," Kossi answered, straightening his posture despite the exhaustion etched on his face.

Amadin didn't waste time. He drew his blade and sliced through the rope binding the horse, then dragged it toward Kossi. "You're a good soldier. But now, I need you for something greater."

Kossi frowned, glancing back at the battle raging behind them. "What is it, my Lord?"

Amadin shoved the reins into his hands. "Take this horse and ride to Djenne-Djenno. You must deliver a message to King Sonni."

Kossi's grip tightened on the reins, his face conflicted. "But I can't leave you all to fight alone. King Sonni appointed me to aid you!"

Amadin's patience snapped like a taut bowstring. He stepped forward, his voice rising over the roar of battle. "It is not wise for us all to die here without informing the King of what's happening. Do you understand me? This isn't cowardice—it's duty!"

Kossi swallowed hard, the weight of the moment sinking in. He nodded, mounting the horse with shaky determination. "What should I tell the King, my Lord?"

Amadin paused, his gaze sweeping over the burning city of Benin one last time—the crumbling walls, the screams of his people, the blood staining the ground he'd sworn to protect. He clenched his jaw, then turned back to Kossi, his eyes hard with sorrow and resolve.

"Tell him…" Amadin's voice was low, but filled with grim finality. "Tell him Benin has fallen."

He slapped the horse's flank with force. "Now go! Ride like the wind and don't look back!"

Kossi bowed deeply, his heart pounding. Without another word, he dug his heels into the horse's sides, and it surged forward, galloping through the chaos as arrows whizzed past and the flames of war licked at the sky.

Amadin stood, watching him disappear into the horizon. As he turned back, the sound of thundering hooves filled his ears—Yoname's army was closing in. Riders on horseback raced to catch Kossi. Amadin clenched his jaw. He knew he had to hold them off.

Gripping his sword and shield, he muttered under his breath, "We fight not for conquest, but for the soul of Benin."

With a roar, he charged. His shield slammed into enemy riders, knocking them from their horses. His sword cut through both men and beasts alike, carving a path of chaos. Yoname's soldiers struck at him relentlessly, their blades slicing into his flesh, but Amadin did not falter. Three spears pierced him, yet he pushed forward, knocking them loose with a fierce shove of his shield. A brutal strike sent the shield flying from his grasp, but Amadin fought on, undeterred.

A sudden pain shot up his leg—a blade had slashed the back of his knee. He stumbled but refused to fall.

A tall, mighty Kushite warrior loomed over him, raising a massive axe. Amadin barely had time to react. He lifted his forearm, catching the strike just before the axe could split his skull. The blade stopped inches from his eye. The Kushite pushed harder, but Amadin met his gaze with a fearless glare. The warrior hesitated—just for a moment.

It was all Amadin needed. With a powerful shove, he sent the Kushite stumbling backward before cutting him down with a swift stroke of his sword.

Another blow struck the side of his head. His vision blurred as he hit the ground. The soldiers hesitated, believing him finished.

But Amadin was not done.

He roared, thrusting his sword into the earth for support as he pulled himself back up. Blood streamed down his face, his body covered in wounds, yet he stood, ready for more.

As he fought on, his movements grew heavier, each swing fueled by sheer will rather than strength. His breath came in ragged gasps, but his resolve never wavered. Then, in a brief lapse—just a heartbeat—a soldier lunged forward, driving his blade deep into Amadin's stomach.

Amadin gasped, his body jolting from the impact. His gaze locked onto the soldier's eyes, even through the wooden dog-head helmet the man wore. The soldier tilted his head mockingly.

Amadin responded with a headbutt so fierce that the wooden mask shattered, splintering into his own face. Shards dug into his skin, but he didn't care. With a bloodied yell, he pressed on, still fighting.

The enemy grew desperate. They swarmed him, stabbing wildly. Blade after blade sank into his flesh. His body faltered. His breath grew shallow. Yet, even as he collapsed against the wall, he smirked.

"You are all fools," he said, his voice weak but defiant. "I will fight on till my last breath. Go tell your master."

The soldiers stepped aside as Massinissa approached. He studied Amadin for a moment before scoffing.

"You were a formidable warrior," Massinissa admitted, his voice low and devoid of pity. "But it's a shame—it was all for nothing."

Amadin chuckled, spitting blood onto the ground. "Nothing?" he rasped. "No… the real shame is you—following one of us because you are too weak to lead yourself."

Massinissa's expression twisted in anger. Without another word, he drove his sword deep into Amadin's chest.

The mighty warrior of Benin finally fell, his smirk never leaving his face.

Queen Against Queen

Nosaze fought with all her might despite the exhaustion gnawing at her. Amidst the chaos, a massive stone from Yoname's giant catapult crashed into a nearby structure. The impact sent debris flying as the building collapsed, its thunderous quake throwing Nosaze off balance. She hit the ground hard, her vision blurring, the deafening roar of battle fading into a distant hum.

Dazed, she struggled to rise, clutching her head as sharp, piercing pain throbbed in her skull. Just as she managed to get on one knee, a stray arrow struck her in the left side of her stomach. A scream of agony tore from her lips as she gripped the arrow and yanked it out, blood seeping through her fingers. It was then that her hearing returned—only to be met by the horrifying sounds of war: the screams, the cries, the dying gasps of her people.

She turned, her blurred gaze sweeping over the battlefield. Her soldiers were falling one after another, their blood staining the earth. Among them, her trusted generals, Zena and Uyiro, were brutally massacred. The sight drained the last shred of hope from her heart.

Staggering to her feet, unarmed, bleeding, and broken, Nosaze walked through the carnage. The clash of steel and the cries of the dying seemed distant, meaningless. She moved like a shadow, unconcerned with the chaos around her, until her strength gave out. She collapsed to her knees, her gaze fixed on the blood-soaked ground as tears streamed down her face.

Then, a shadow fell over her.

Nosaze slowly lifted her head, squinting against the harsh glare of the sun. Towering above her stood Yoname, her figure outlined by the blazing light, her face obscured in darkness.

Through her sobs, Nosaze cried out, her voice filled with heartbreak and betrayal, "Yoname… why? What have you done to our homeland? What wrong have I done to you?"

For a fleeting moment, Yoname's expression flickered with something—regret, perhaps—but she quickly masked it with cold indifference. Her voice was sharp, unwavering.

"I warned you to surrender your kingdom in peace," Yoname replied. "But you chose war. And like I said before, I am a woman of my word. Your people have wronged me more than I can bear.

As Yoname spoke, the chaos of battle slowly faded. The cries, the clash of steel, and the pounding of war drums grew silent as Nosaze's army lay defeated. The surviving people of Benin—soldiers and civilians alike—were bound and forced to watch the confrontation between their fallen queen and the conqueror. The dust of battle settled around them, thick with the weight of despair.

Nosaze, still on her knees, her face stained with tears and blood, looked up at Yoname with hollow eyes. "If you wish to take a life for the wrongs you claim Benin has done to you," she rasped, her voice trembling with both rage and grief, "then take mine, Yoname. Kill me!"

Yoname crouched, her cold gaze locking with Nosaze's. A faint smirk curled on her lips as she replied, her tone smooth yet laced with venom. "Nosaze, you're too timid to understand what's happening. I can't kill you—because you're not the one on my list."

She grabbed Nosaze's chin, forcing her to look toward the royal palace, still standing in the distance, its golden banners fluttering weakly in the dying wind. "But your father is," Yoname whispered darkly.

At her signal, a giant catapult roared to life. A massive stone, wrapped in flames, soared through the sky like a fiery omen. It crashed into the royal palace with devastating force, shattering it into rubble. The ground quaked as the legacy of Benin crumbled before Nosaze's eyes.

"No-o-o! Yoname, stop it! Please, stop!" Nosaze screamed, struggling against Yoname's iron grip. But Yoname only tightened her hold, her faint laughter cutting through the silence like a dagger.

"You are mad," Nosaze spat, her voice hoarse with fury and heartbreak. "You're a mad woman!"

For the first time, Yoname's expression faltered. A flicker of something—pain, perhaps—flashed in her eyes. She released Nosaze abruptly, standing tall once more. Her face hardened, her voice calm but filled with venom.

"So, I'm mad, Nosaze? Your father taught you how to rule but failed to teach you the true meaning of injustice. But none of that matters anymore."

Yoname turned to the defeated people of Benin, her voice rising with terrifying authority. "Hear me, people of Benin! This is the reign of Nehizena. His reign continues even in his absence. Your freedom is no longer yours. Obedience will earn you survival. Resistance will earn you death."

She cast a disdainful glance back at Nosaze, her words sharp as blades. "And as for your queen, she has given up on you all. Your kingdom now belongs to me."

The people bowed their heads, their faces shadowed with fear and shame. Yoname stood tall, the conqueror of Benin, her voice echoing across the ruins of a once-great kingdom as the sun dipped behind the horizon, casting the land in blood-red light.

"As for you," she added, her tone growing colder, "you should've been more careful with the choices you made."

But Nosaze was not ready to give up so easily. Kneeling with her gaze fixed on the blood-soaked ground, she closed her eyes, her mind drifting to the words of Jabari, the eldest chief of Afuria: 'I once asked her how far she would go to protect the vault. Her answer was simple—"Till death."'

Nosaze's eyes snapped open, determination flickering within them. She muttered under her breath, "If Zuri could go that far, why can't I?"

Summoning the last of her strength, she lifted her head, her defiant gaze locking onto Yoname's back just as Yoname turned to walk away. With a voice that cut through the silence of defeat, Nosaze shouted, "I challenge you to a duel!"

Her words rang out like a thunderclap, halting everyone in their tracks—soldiers, captives, and even Yoname herself. Yoname turned slowly, her expression a mixture of surprise and amusement. She scoffed and said, "Nosaze… are you serious? You want a duel with me?"

Nosaze forced herself to her feet, blood staining her side, but her stance unwavering. "If you want my submission, you'll have to make me yield," she declared. "And I refuse to yield."

Yoname's soldiers instinctively stepped forward to restrain her, but Yoname raised her hand, signaling them to stop. A faint smirk played on her lips as she replied, "You're as stubborn as ever. But if that's what you wish for… you shall have it."

At that moment, Senay, Yoname's trusted advisor, stepped forward to officiate and record the duel. Duel matches were an ancient, sacred practice—an honored tradition across kingdoms to determine leadership and settle disputes. Both Aksum and Benin upheld this law, and here, amidst the ruins of war, the challenge was set.

The duel would decide not just the fate of two queens, but the destiny of their people.

The crowd formed a wide circle around them—soldiers from both sides, bound by the ancient respect for the duel, laid down their weapons to witness history. Among them, some of Nosaze's captured soldiers watched with silent prayers, their eyes filled with a fragile hope.

Nosaze stood unarmed, yet her resolve was unshaken. Across from her, Yoname gripped her dual chain blades, her eyes locked on Nosaze with unwavering determination. She spun one end of the chain with effortless precision, the metallic whir slicing through the heavy silence.

Nosaze's gaze followed the twirling blade, searching for an opening, steadying herself despite the searing pain from the arrow wound in her side. Blood loss had weakened her, but her spirit blazed with defiance.

Then came Senay's voice, clear and commanding, carrying over the hushed crowd as he unrolled a scroll. "By the sacred laws of Benin and Aksum, this duel shall decide the fate of both kingdoms. The rules are simple: no interference, no retreat. The victor claims not only the crown but the destiny of nations."

He raised his hand, signaling the start.

Without hesitation, Yoname lashed the spinning blade to the dusty ground with force. Nosaze saw her chance. She lunged forward, her movements fueled by raw determination, delivering fierce punches and kicks. Yoname dodged with swift, practiced ease; the blows that landed barely fazed her.

With deadly precision, Yoname flung one of her chain blades toward Nosaze's chest. But Nosaze seized the moment—grabbing the chain, she wrapped it around her arm and yanked it with all her strength, ripping the weapon from Yoname's grasp and sending it clattering to the ground.

Now both were unarmed.

Nosaze surged forward, striking Yoname hard across the mouth, sending her stumbling backward. They retreated briefly, eyes locked, measuring each other. Blood trickled from the corner of Yoname's lip. She wiped it away with the back of her hand, smirking. "So, that's how you want to play, huh?"

Nosaze didn't respond. She lunged again, her blows wild but relentless. Yoname parried, countering with sharp strikes of her own. Despite her exhaustion, Nosaze refused to yield.

With a swift sweep of her leg, Yoname knocked Nosaze to the ground. Standing over her, she barked, "Yield!"

But Nosaze, panting and bloodied, pushed herself up once more, her eyes burning with fury. "I refuse."

She charged, fiercer than before, but Yoname met her with brutal efficiency, slamming her back to the ground. This time, as Nosaze fell, she managed to grab a fistful of Yoname's long, thick dreadlocks, yanking her down in the process.

Yoname, unshaken, quickly drew a dagger hidden beneath her garment. With a swift slash, she cut through her own dreadlocks, freeing herself and leaving Nosaze clutching the detached strands.

The crowd gasped.

Yoname stepped back, her face momentarily shadowed by disbelief. Nosaze, though battered, stood tall, tossing the severed locks to the ground with defiant pride.

But tampering with Yoname's hair only fueled her rage.

With a roar, Yoname charged again. They clashed—Nosaze fighting with every last shred of strength, Yoname swift and merciless. Nosaze aimed a desperate punch at Yoname's face, but Yoname caught her arm mid-strike, her reflexes flawless.

Before Nosaze could react, Yoname drove her dagger into Nosaze's stomach.

Nosaze screamed, staggering backward, clutching the wound. She managed to free herself from Yoname's grip, but Yoname pressed on, plunging the dagger again—this time into the vulnerable space between Nosaze's neck and shoulder. Nosaze collapsed, tears mixing with blood, her cries piercing the air.

Yoname stepped back, her chest heaving. "You can't win this," she said coldly. "Yield."

Nosaze's voice was barely a whisper, but her words were clear. "Till death."

Yoname froze, the phrase echoing in her mind. "Till death." It was the same fearless defiance Zuri had shown long ago. But Yoname didn't want to kill Nosaze—not like this.

To break Nosaze's spirit, she resorted to cruelty.

She signaled one of her soldiers, who dragged a terrified child between the two warriors. Yoname seized the boy, pressing her blood-streaked dagger against his throat.

"Stay down," Yoname threatened, her voice venomous. "Or I'll slit his throat. Believe me—I will do it."

The child's mother screamed in horror, her pleas echoing across the field. The sound pierced Nosaze's heart.

Nosaze tried to rise, torn between her defiance and the child's life. Her body trembled, her vision blurred. Finally, her knees buckled. She yielded.

Yoname released the child, shoving him aside without a glance. She approached Nosaze, crouching beside her, her breath hot against Nosaze's ear.

"That's right," Yoname whispered. "Yield. You can't win this duel." Her voice softened, but the words cut deeper than any blade. "And I never wanted to kill you. Not yet. Not like this."

As she scanned the crowd one last time, her gaze fell on Adazee. The old chief stood among the captives, his expression heavy with disappointment. He frowned and shook his head bitterly, a silent condemnation that struck deeper than she expected. Guilt flickered through her, brief but undeniable. Lowering her gaze, she turned away as if he weren't there.

She stood, her voice loud once more. "Carry her. Treat her wounds. Wash her. Lock the others up. We'll be staying at my mother's manor—General Okankan's estate."

As the soldiers obeyed, Yoname muttered to herself, her gaze distant.

"Perhaps that's where it all started."

With Nosaze and the captured people of Benin in tow, they marched toward Okankan's manor—toward the echoes of old wounds and unfinished battles.

Echoes of Defeat

While Benin fell into Yoname's grip, Kossi, a young soldier, managed to outrun her pursuing forces. Driven by urgency and fear, he rode tirelessly toward Djenne-Djenno, clutching a message from General Amadin meant for King Sonni.

In Djenne-Djenno, the city buzzed with celebration. The people feasted, honoring the marriage of King Demba's niece, Bintu, daughter of his brother Sogolon. Amid the festivities, laughter echoed through the palace halls, but outside, Sonni strode alone toward the city gates, drawn by a restless unease.

At that moment, Kossi arrived at the gates, his body trembling with exhaustion. The guards of Djenne-Djenno blocked his way, suspicious of his disheveled appearance. But then Diallo, a seasoned soldier from Gao, recognized him.

"Let that young man through," Diallo commanded. "He's one of us."

The gates parted. Kossi stumbled forward, dizzy but determined, his voice hoarse with desperation. "I have a message for the king… please, let me see him."

Sonni, noticing the commotion, approached swiftly. "What's going on here?"

Diallo saluted. "My king, this is Kossi, a soldier from Gao stationed in Benin. He insists he carries an urgent message from General Amadin."

A flicker of fear and confusion crossed Sonni's face. "Bring him to me."

Kossi was brought forth, barely able to stand. He gasped, "My lord… Benin… has fallen."

With those words, he collapsed. The soldiers rushed to revive him, but Sonni stood frozen, his mind drowning in a storm of fear, confusion, and regret. The sounds around him faded into a distant murmur. Without thinking, he mounted Kossi's horse and rode through the city gates.

Diallo's voice rang out behind him, "My king! Where are you going?"

Sonni didn't respond. He rode faster, his heart racing with every beat. Diallo quickly mounted his own horse, signaling to Sissoko and a group of soldiers. "Come with me!"

Catching up to Sonni, Diallo shouted, "My king, please—slow down! Where are you headed?"

Sonni's jaw clenched, his voice sharp with anguish. "Nosaze is in trouble. Benin has fallen, and I can't sit back at a feast—doing what?"

Diallo nodded solemnly. "What's the plan?"

Sonni glanced at the soldiers trailing behind. "Good. You brought Sissoko and the others. The rest of the army will remain in Djenne-Djenno. We're heading to Benin to see what's happened."

"I'm with you, my king," Diallo replied. "But we must be careful."

"We will," Sonni growled. "Just make sure Sissoko and the others keep up."

Without another word, Sonni spurred his horse faster, determination burning in his eyes. Diallo, Sissoko, and the soldiers followed close behind, racing toward the echoes of defeat.

The Queen's Justice

As per her mother's orders, Irene was brought into Benin once the battle had ended. She rode into the conquered city, flanked by Yoname's forces and accompanied by caretakers from the Kingdom of Nehizena. Yet, as she passed through the streets, unease settled over her.

The people of Benin—once proud—now moved like ghosts, their faces weary, their spirits crushed beneath the weight of oppression. Their silence was louder than any wail of grief. Yoname's soldiers stood at every corner, watching them like hawks, ensuring no spark of resistance remained.

Irene's heart clenched, but she remained silent, pressing forward toward the Manor of General Okankan, where her mother awaited her.

Inside the council chamber, Yoname sat among her commanders, her war dogs resting at her feet. At the center of the room, on his knees, was Aigbe—once a man of power, now reduced to a trembling figure before her.

"Please, Yoname," he begged, his voice raw with desperation.

Yoname's eyes narrowed. "Yoname?" she echoed, mockery in her tone.

Aigbe quickly corrected himself. "I—I mean, my queen. Queen Yoname. Please, spare my life. I know I wronged you and your family, but please forgive me!"

A dangerous smirk played on Yoname's lips as she crouched to meet his gaze. "You ended her life in the most brutal way, like she meant nothing," she whispered. "A widow. A mother. A woman who took you all as family and never once wronged you. And yet, you killed her."

Aigbe's breath hitched. "It—it was Akenzua! He sent us to eliminate every follower of his father after his son's banishment!"

Yoname tilted her head. "Akenzua isn't here to defend himself," she said, her voice deathly calm. "But you are. And since you're so loyal to your king, I think It's only fair that I send you to him."

Aigbe's body trembled. "No—please! Have mercy, I beg you!"

Yoname rose to her full height, her expression unreadable. "Mercy?" she mused. "I am a merciful queen."

Aigbe exhaled in relief, hope flickering in his eyes.

Then the growling started.

Yoname's war dogs rose to their feet, their snarls echoing through the chamber. She sighed. "But you see, chasing after you was exhausting. My dogs ran hard. And now…" Her eyes darkened. "They're hungry."

Aigbe's face drained of color. "No—no, please! I will do anything to make things right!"

Yoname said nothing. She turned away, lifting a hand. A silent command.

The dogs lunged.

Aigbe's screams filled the chamber, but Yoname did not look back. She stepped into the corridor, the sound of tearing flesh and frenzied barking fading behind her.

Justice had been served.

The Queen's Burden

As Yoname walked through the corridor of the manor, the sound of Aigbe's screams and the frenzied growls of the war dogs faded behind her. Yet, an unfamiliar irritation lingered within her chest. She had achieved her justice, had avenged her mother's brutal murder, and yet… it did not feel like victory. Suddenly, a sharp pain pierced through her head, making her flinch. She placed a hand on her temple, gripping it as the pain intensified. Struggling to steady herself, she moved into a room where the cool night air streamed in from the windows. She braced herself against a wooden table, closing her eyes as she waited for the pain to subside.

Moments later, Senay, her trusted advisor, entered the room. Seeing her composed but still weary, he remarked, "You seem exhausted, my queen. The battles and victories weigh heavily on you. Perhaps you should slow down."

Yoname turned, masking her discomfort with a scoff. "Senay, you worry too much. I am not exhausted. I am simply… celebrating my victory."

Senay arched a brow. "Celebrating? In silence? In sorrow? That does not seem like a celebration to me."

She rolled her eyes. "Put that aside. What brings you here?"

Senay's expression darkened slightly. "I am here because you broke a sacred law. Nosaze did not yield—until you forced her to, even knowing the rules."

Yoname's gaze sharpened. "No retreat, no interference. I know the law well, Senay." She leaned against the table, her voice unwavering. "But I am the queen. I am the voice of this conquest. The rules bend to my will, not the other way around."

Senay sighed. "I would not advise you to take that path, my queen."

Yoname's eyes narrowed. "It is not your decision, Senay. Deliver my words to the chiefs, and tell them that my ruling stands."

Senay bowed deeply, knowing there was no arguing further. As he turned to leave, Yoname added, "And send Ekundayo to me. I wish to speak with him."

Senay nodded and departed.

A Daughter's Concern

Just as Yoname exhaled, attempting to ease her thoughts, the door swung open again.

"Mama!"

Irene's voice was bright with relief as she ran into her mother's embrace. Yoname held her tightly, whispering, "Oh, my daughter… I've missed you so much."

"I've missed you too, Mama," Irene said, pulling back to study her mother's face. Her young eyes filled with concern. "You look tired. Sick."

Yoname forced a small smile. "No, my child, I am not sick. I was just upset at not having you by my side."

Irene cupped her mother's face. "I'm here now, Mama. And I'm never leaving you again."

Yoname's heart warmed at her daughter's words. She playfully teased, "I'm sure you must be hungry from your long journey."

Irene giggled. "I was. But seeing you again… I think I am full."

Yoname chuckled and rested a hand on her daughter's shoulder, holding her close. But before she could enjoy the moment, Irene's expression grew serious.

"Mama, the people of Benin… they look so weak. Hungry. I don't like it. They are our people. Why did we have to wage war on them?"

Yoname froze. The words struck her, creating a storm of confusion within her. She opened her mouth, but no immediate answer came. Finally, she spoke, her voice measured.

"I understand what you mean, my child. But what I did was justice. And justice, though painful, cannot be denied."

Irene frowned. "Then can you let them go?"

Before Yoname could respond, Ekundayo stepped in.

"My queen," he announced, bowing slightly. "I was told you wished to see me."

Yoname turned to him, grateful for the interruption. "Yes, Ekundayo. Give me a moment."

Ekundayo nodded and waited by the door. Yoname turned back to Irene, her voice soft.

"My child, please go and wash yourself. Eat, rest. When I am done, I will come to you, and we will talk about anything you want."

Irene hesitated but nodded. Yoname kissed her forehead before watching her daughter leave.

The Weight of Victory

Ekundayo watched as Irene disappeared down the corridor, then remarked with a smirk, "She's growing into a sharp and thoughtful young woman. She will make a fine leader one day, just like her mother."

Yoname sighed. "She will be better than me."

Ekundayo chuckled. "If she surpasses you, she will be truly extraordinary. Because no queen has ruled with your wisdom, skill, and strength." He paused, then added, "What did you wish to speak with me about?"

Yoname turned to the window, staring into the night. "Our conquest."

Ekundayo frowned slightly. "What of it, my queen?"

Yoname's fingers curled around the window frame. "I know why Nehizena started this conquest—not just to uphold his grandfather's legacy, but to secure a home for our children. A kingdom where they could rule as natives of Benin." Her voice grew softer. "But there was a reason I pulled away from war when I met him. I never found joy in my victories. Not then. Not now." She exhaled, the weight of her emotions pressing down on her. "I thought this victory would bring me satisfaction. That fulfilling my promise to Nehizena, avenging my mother, would heal me. But it hasn't. Even now, I am nothing more than a grieving widow."

Ekundayo lowered his head, the pain in her voice cutting deep.

"I think my happiness died with him," she admitted, her voice almost a whisper. "And right now, I only wish to join him, wherever he is."

Ekundayo stepped forward, his voice firm. "My queen, do not speak like that. The war is over. You can now seek joy elsewhere. There is still life ahead of you."

Yoname scoffed. "Is it over?" She turned to him, her expression unreadable. "I doubt it. I know I gave Sonni something terrifying to think about, but he will not give up on Nosaze. He will return. He will fight for her. This conquest's end has only birthed a new one—one I do not yet understand." She hesitated, then murmured, "And that terrifies me."

She took a step closer, her voice quieter, heavier. "I fear for my children, Ekundayo. I fear for Irene." She placed a hand on his shoulder, her gaze imploring. "Protect her. Guide her. Make sure she becomes a better ruler than I am. I was a mistake. She should not be like me. She must be better."

Ekundayo placed his hand over hers, his expression solemn. "You do not need to ask, my queen. For the sake of my friend Nehizena, I will do whatever it takes to protect her."

Yoname nodded, relief flickering in her eyes. "Thank you, Ekundayo. Because another battle awaits us. And I do not know if I will emerge victorious." She inhaled deeply, then straightened. "But until then, we will celebrate this victory."

Ekundayo smiled. "Yes, my queen. We will celebrate—but we will not lower our guard. The storm is not over."

As the night deepened, the weight of the future loomed over Yoname. She had won the war. But at what cost? And would she ever truly be free from it?