Chapter 12: The Crimson Theater
The dawn didn't bring light; it brought the smell of iron and wet earth. The Small Conflict had begun.
At first, it looked like a standard skirmish. The Ottoman "Weak" soldiers charged with shaky hands and rusted spears. Ulfat moved among them like a reaper, his blade flashing in the morning mist.
But then, the air changed.
Suddenly, the weak soldiers stopped faking. Their movements became sharp, their eyes filled with a desperate, suicidal rage. They began to push the Mongol line back. The Mongol warriors, overconfident and lazy, were forced into a defensive circle.
Wasabi, parrying a blow that almost took his head, looked over at Ulfat. He expected to see panic. Instead, he saw a smirk.
"Don't worry, Khan!" Ulfat's voice rang out, clear and brave. "I am here!"
He spurred his horse toward a group of thirty young Ottoman soldiers. They were fresh, strong, and ready to tear him apart. Wasabi's heart stopped. "He's going to die", he thought." Even a genius can't survive thirty to one."
The Ottomans raised their spears, ready to strike but then, a shadow moved in the dust behind them. The Ottoman Leader himself appeared. With a cold strike, he sliced the hamstrings of his own men's horses.
The animals shrieked, collapsing into the mud and pinning the young soldiers underneath. They were trapped, screaming, and helpless.
Ulfat didn't hesitate. , his sword ended thirty lives in thirty seconds. From the Khan's perspective, Ulfat had just charged into certain death and emerged a God.
Wasabi watched it all. He saw the Ottoman Leader retreat into the trees, sharing a final, dark look with Ulfat.
"Why?" Wasabi's mind was a storm of disgust. "Why am I even with him? He is destroying us from the inside.Maybe he deserves this pain no, that's not right. Nobody deserves to be this hollow."
The battle ended in a massacre. The few remaining Ottomans fled into the forest. The khan say,s
"Ulfat !"You are more than a Scholar. You are a Mongol!"
The Return and the Arrow
As the army began the slow march back to the camp, the victory felt hollow to Wasabi. He rode close to Ulfat, trying to read his face.
Ulfat wasn't looking at the sunset. He wasn't looking at his bruised hands. He was staring with a terrifying focus at the center of Uktai Khan's chest. He didn't blink. He looked like a wolf watching a target.
Wasabi felt a chill run down his spine. He leaned forward to ask Ulfat what he was looking at, but the words died in his throat.
THWIP.
A single black arrow, fletched with Japanese hawk feathers, hissed through the air. It didn't come from the forest they had just cleared. It came from the high rocks where the Samurai had been waiting in total silence.
The arrow hit Uktai Khan directly in the chest.
The Khan gasped, his eyes wide as he looked down at the shaft. It wasn't in his heart the Samurai had aimed for the right side, just as Ulfat had signaled. It was a wound that wouldn't kill him instantly, but it would leave him helpless.
The Khan fell from his horse, crashing into the dirt. The Mongol army erupted into chaos.
Through the dust, Wasabi looked at Ulfat. Ulfat hadn't moved. . He stood over the fallen King, his shadow stretching long across the dying man. The Monster finally had the Khan exactly where he wanted him, bleeding, weak, and at his mercy.