The call

The fortifications around Tengaki strengthened with each passing day. The palace walls were reinforced with thick layers of stone, and every entrance to the kingdom was secured with watchful guards. The air smelled of metal and sweat as blacksmiths worked tirelessly to produce weapons, while warriors drilled relentlessly in the training grounds. Lahara, under Kovu's relentless insistence, had ordered a rigorous vetting process for anyone seeking entry into the city. The people, though restless and wary of these newfound restrictions, understood the necessity of such precautions.

Kovu's plan had been executed with precision. Men and women alike were required to be identified before being granted access, their backgrounds scrutinized. Patrols increased around the surrounding villages, ensuring no one entered undetected. Yet, despite their best efforts, the whispers of the Isakis did not fade. Their presence grew stronger, lurking like an unspoken prophecy in the corners of the kingdom, a reminder that something ominous was approaching.

And yet, despite the watchful eyes and impenetrable walls, Tsegunki found his way in.

No matter how high the walls or how tight the security, there were always shadows one could slip through. He was no ordinary man—he had lived among whispers, walked with ghosts, and learned the language of silence. The land itself seemed to bend to his will, guiding him through unseen paths and hidden corridors. He entered Tengaki unnoticed, his presence as quiet as the wind sweeping through the kingdom.

The palace's need for guards had increased significantly, the looming threat casting unease over the rulers. Kovu, ever the skeptic of Lahara's leadership, insisted on personal protection. He did not fear battle, but he was wise enough to know that caution was a weapon of its own.

The Call for Warriors

In response to the rising tension, Lahara issued a decree. A battle would be held to choose the fittest, strongest, and bravest warriors to serve as royal guards. It was an open opportunity for any man of Tengaki to prove his worth, to stand as a shield for their land. Young men, eager to gain prestige and power, filled the palace walls.

At the entrance of the hall, guards meticulously recorded their personal information before directing them toward the training grounds. The air was thick with anticipation, the ground shaking beneath the footsteps of hopefuls.

"Next!" a guard bellowed.

A long queue had formed, creating order in the chaos. Tsegunki, clad in his cavern attire, stepped forward.

"Your name?"

"Tsegunki Mafa," he answered, his head bent toward the ground.

"We will need to see how fit you are," the guard said, scrutinizing him.

"Is that all that is required?" Tsegunki asked, his voice calm but firm.

The guard's brows furrowed. "Hey, listen to me. You either do as I say or leave quietly."

A murmur spread through the gathered warriors. Tsegunki had drawn attention to himself, but he remained unshaken.

"I may not look it, but I promise you—no one can protect the king better than I." With deliberate slowness, he removed his cavern cloak, revealing his lean but well-toned frame.

The reaction was immediate.

Laughter erupted from the crowd.

"He is an old man!" someone jeered.

"This is a battlefield, not a retirement home!" another taunted.

Fezzi, a burly young warrior known for his arrogance, stepped forward. "Look here, old man, we are here to be trained as warriors to defend our land. This is not a vacation. What do you think you're doing here?"

Tsegunki remained unfazed. "To serve the king, you need more than physical strength," he said evenly. "And nowhere is it written that a man of my years cannot wield a sword and defend his home."

"This is shameful! How can we let a man who is old enough to be our father join us in a battle filled with weapons?" Fezzi scoffed. "Can you even hold a sword?"

More laughter. More mockery.

But Tsegunki did not flinch.

"Very well," he said, his voice carrying a quiet determination. "I challenge you to a battle."

Silence fell over the hall.

Then, more laughter.

"An old man challenges me to a battle?" Fezzi sneered, circling Tsegunki with a smirk. "And what would be my reward for entertaining this joke?"

Tsegunki met his gaze steadily. "I challenge you to a battle of swordsmanship. If you win, I'll leave Tengaki. But if I win—you will."

The crowd erupted again, this time not with laughter but with whispers of intrigue.

Fezzi's smirk widened. "I accept. Tomorrow at dawn, we will send you off properly."

Tsegunki nodded, his posture unwavering despite the storm of emotions swirling inside him.

The King's Distraction

Meanwhile, inside the palace chambers, a guard entered with a report in hand. He bowed before Kovu, who sat at his desk, reviewing documents.

"Your Majesty, these are today's screening reports," the guard announced.

"You're in the wrong chamber. Deliver them to the king," Kovu responded, barely looking up.

"The king is... unavailable, Your Majesty. He instructed that you receive these reports."

Kovu sighed, placing his quill down. "Fine. Summarize it for me."

"If I am permitted to speak freely, Your Majesty, everything proceeded as expected—until an old man arrived and insisted on applying."

Kovu's brows lifted in interest. "An old man?"

"Yes, Your Majesty. He refused to leave and even challenged one of the warriors to a duel."

A slow smirk played on Kovu's lips. "A duel, you say? When?"

"At dawn, Your Majesty."

Kovu nodded, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "Very well. Dismissed."

As the guard exited, Kovu rose from his chair, his thoughts racing.

"Lahara!" he called, striding through the palace halls. "Where is the king?"

A guard hesitated before answering. "His Majesty will be out in a few minutes."

Kovu narrowed his eyes. "Do not make me repeat myself. Where is Lahara?"

The distant sound of laughter and flirtation met his ears.

He clenched his jaw.

Bursting into Lahara's chamber, Kovu was met with the sight of his brother surrounded by scantily clad women, their giggles echoing off the walls.

"Lahara!" Kovu bellowed.

The women gasped, scrambling for their clothes. Lahara smirked lazily, adjusting his robe. "Ah, Prince Kovu. Always a pleasure."

Kovu's glare hardened. "Is this what you've become? Your kingdom needs you, and yet you waste your time in indulgence?"

"I am the king," Lahara countered, unfazed.

Kovu exhaled sharply. "Indeed, you are. And if you were present at the palace gates today, you would have seen the warriors gathered, eager to protect your kingdom." He tossed the report onto Lahara's bed. "And you would have known that an old man has entered the ranks and issued a challenge."

Lahara frowned. "An old man?"

"Yes. Be there at dawn to see your people, King Lahara."

With that, Kovu turned and slammed the door behind him.

A Warning in the Dark

That night, Fezzi sat outside his tent, sharpening his blade.

"What if you went too far?" his friend Zaza asked.

Fezzi scoffed. "It's an old man. He is nothing compared to what I've faced."

Zaza hesitated. "Didn't you notice? He didn't stutter. He was confident." He paused. "He looks like he could do a thousand backflips, and you can barely manage ten."

Fezzi glared. "Whose side are you on?"

"I'm just saying—don't underestimate your opponent," Zaza warned.

Fezzi snorted but said nothing.

Outside, beneath the pale moon, Tsegunki sat in the shadows, sharpening his own blade.

Tomorrow, he would prove that strength was more than youth and muscle.

Tomorrow, the kingdom would remember his name.