The Plan to Victory

Saed looked through his bedroom window. The night sky was clear, dark and dotted with stars. The silence helped him organize his thoughts, and he needed that more than ever.

In less than four days, this young man who had barely stepped outside in four years was about to compete against a host of talented people. From Akram to Saddam… he didn't know how he could win. And those were just the ones he recognized. There might be bigger fish hidden beneath the waters of this island.

The island itself hadn't even been revealed during the meeting. Knowing Saddam's personality, he'd probably handed full control to an external force, making the game fair, so that he could stand on the same stage as everyone else without prior preparation or terrain knowledge.

The biggest problem is my lack of knowledge on their individual powers. I can only make estimates on their Djinn levels and abilities. I should've prepared intel.

Saed, only a Stage Three Djinn Master, had 36% of his soul accommodated to his Djinn. He couldn't help but feel a quiet fear toward the others. He had spent too much time waiting. Thinking. Postponing. Instead of actively strengthening his connection and power, he had allowed procrastination to win.

Still, not all of the blame rested on his shoulders. His Djinn was of the rare Imaginary type, one of the most elusive and difficult kinds. Their powers didn't rely on tangible things, but vague, abstract concepts.

There were four main types of Djinn.

Imaginary: those who used abstract ideas.

Nature: wielders of elements like fire or water.

Darkness: users of curses, death, or shadows.

Divine: those who called upon holy or light-based powers.

Each type required a different gem to grow stronger. Imaginary Djinns required hums. Nature needed tabis. Darkness used zalas. Divine relied on daws.

These stones were incredibly rare. The only reliable source of them came from Djinns themselves. But wild Djinns weren't easily killed, not out in the open. So people turned to something else.

Killing.

Ending a Djinn Master's life meant ending the Djinn's life as well. And when a Djinn Master died, the gem corresponding to their Djinn appeared at the place of death.

A cruel way to progress.

The world was harsh. To empower oneself meant to leave blood in your wake.

He didn't know how many lives Akram had taken, but he could make a fair guess when it came to Saddam.

Saddam enjoys killing. His soul percentage must be among the highest. Him being a Stage Six at barely twenty is entirely possible. He's definitely the most dangerous person on this island.

As for Akram, he probably didn't have much of a murder history, maybe none. But his level should still be close to Saed's. After all, the Hosein family had prospered after the war. Their influence, their geography, their politics, it all worked in their favor. They were protected.

Unlike us.

The Nafura house had lost too much. Too many people. Too many chances. Too much pride.

Saed smiled, suddenly.

Still. I'm happy he's doing well. Last I heard, he wasn't in the best place. The death of his fiancée must've shattered him… but he seems to have found his smile again.

He stared out the window, smiling like a fool who just met the girl of his dreams, except he hadn't met anyone like that yet.

He fell asleep like that. Peaceful. Happy.

"…"

Three days left until the game.

Saed woke up in a pool of sweat, his soaked sheets forming the perfect silhouette of his back.

"Sigh… It's only been a day and you're already causing me trouble. I should complain to the Head, you know that?"

Her voice came before his eyes could even adjust to the morning light. There she was. The one and only, his favorite maid, and simultaneously the one he hated the most. Not that he had many options.

The beautiful Alka.

Despite everything, he smiled warmly at her. Her presence had a strange way of grounding him, even after a nightmare like this one.

This time had been particularly cruel.

Countless corpses. Friends dying in twisted, grotesque ways. Children, women, innocents, everything drowned in a sea of blood.

He'd almost cried upon waking. But he'd grown used to this. After years of haunted sleep, some kind of numb resistance had formed inside him.

"Your father is asking for your presence once again. You should go quickly. It seems like a pressing matter."

Her face was colder than ever.

"I was expecting that. I feel like I've already lived this moment before. Am I finally going insane after all these years of holding myself together?"

He chuckled, but his laugh was uneven, half-joke, half-confession. There was worry in his eyes.

He reached for the door, but her voice called out behind him.

"Catch this!"

His body turned on instinct, hands moving fast enough to grab whatever she'd thrown.

An apple.

Bright green. Smooth. Beautiful. Cold in his palm.

He stared at it, puzzled. Apples didn't grow in Hataal. They were a foreign luxury, something you only heard about in trade rumors or royal feasts.

He slowly raised his eyes to her face.

A kind smile was waiting there.

"You haven't been eating properly. You won't grow at this rate!"

He looked down at his body and ran a hand across his side.

I don't think growing any taller would benefit me... I'm already over 180 centimeters, I'll have you know. But she's right. I've lost some muscle. Is it stress? Is the game taking over my life already?

He looked back at Alka and smiled softly.

"Thanks for worrying about me, Alka."

Her cheeks flushed, just slightly.

"Go now. You're going to be late again."

He laughed and waved her off, walking through the door while biting into the rare, perfect apple.

"…"

"So, who are you choosing?" His father first tackled the elephant in the room.

Who was Saed going to chose…

His choices weren't unlimited and he had to chose carefully. His composition would determine his strategy for this 'war'.

His first idea was very simple : The best offense is the best defense! Bet everything on firepower and leave the rest to his brain. He wasn't the strongest there but he could still defend himself in a one on one, this wasn't the problem.

He could be a very troublesome adversary to anyone who dared attack him, except for Saddam.

Therefore, the only way to fight on the same stage was to pick three people with of high power and place his bets on a two on one against Saddam where he had the clear advantage.

I still have my second plan just in case…

"I plan to go all-in on firepower, what'd you think?"

"Hmm, that's an interesting tactic. Do you plan to leave everything to your men and concentrate on the mind games?" Yamu said, twisting his mustache as he always does when thinking.

"We're not father and son for nothing! We think the same." He said chuckling.

"Haha, you're right. I think it's a good idea, any idea who you'll chose? Should I give you recommendations?"

Saed thought for a moment.

"I only have one person in my hand so I'd like some help for the other two." He sat back in his chair.

"Oh, who's the lucky man who got his eyes set on by the 'Blood Prince' His father smiled.

It had been years since he hadn't heard this nickname. He smiled a bit thinking about how his father still remembered it, but saddened a bit at the sudden resurgence in his mind of the origin of this name.

"You know who I am talking about, he has came back just recently from the capital."

"Oh, so he was the one. Excellent choice!" He expressed a vaguely happy expression before relaxing in his chair.

He was a knight of the empire. Well… one for a candidate for the position of empress. His name was heard throughout the land. Wielding a giant sword and a kind heart, his name was known by all.

Munir Alam.