Chapter 1: The Beginning of War (Part 2)
Anwar folded his arms behind his back, his sharp eyes glinting with calculation.
"Unfortunately," he said calmly, "it will take six months just to hold back the enemy… and another six months to rebuild your army."
Sultan frowned. "So the real war begins after a year?"
Anwar shook his head. "After two years. Your reputation among the people is… poor. They see you as weak, incapable. Before we fight the enemy, I must fix that. And that," he paused, "is far more complicated than war."
His gaze sharpened.
"I will also need the Royal Seal. Without it, I cannot issue orders to soldiers… or citizens."
There was no hesitation.
Sultan raised his hand and produced a golden seal engraved with the authority of the throne.
"Take it," he said firmly. "From this moment, you have absolute authority. From the smallest ant to the highest general—your orders will be obeyed."
Anwar smiled faintly.
"I have one final request."
Sultan narrowed his eyes. "What is it?"
Anwar's gaze shifted… landing on a young woman standing silently beside the throne.
"Does that young lady always stand by your side?"
"Yes."
Anwar leaned closer, lowering his voice.
"Then I would like to borrow her… for six months."
Sultan blinked in surprise. "What are you planning?"
Anwar gestured toward her with confidence.
"With such a beauty beside me, I won't need to carry the Royal Seal everywhere I go."
For a moment… silence.
Then Sultan burst into laughter.
"How clever! Very well. When do we begin?"
Anwar's smile widened.
"You have already paid me, Your Majesty."
He turned.
"We begin… now."
"Good!" Sultan replied, satisfied.
Anwar walked out of the hall, hands clasped behind his back, a faint smile lingering on his lips. No one could read the depths of his cunning mind.
Not even the king.
---
An hour later—
The palace doors burst open.
A spy rushed in, gasping for breath, his face pale with terror.
"Your Majesty!" he shouted. "A man holding the Royal Seal has appeared in the training grounds! He claims to be your military advisor—and Lady Lamia is with him!"
Sultan waved his hand dismissively. "That is correct. I gave him the seal myself."
"No… no, Your Majesty!" the spy screamed, his voice trembling like a man who had escaped hell itself. "That man is insane! He's mad! He's done something unforgivable in the training grounds!"
Sultan's expression froze.
"What did he do?"
The spy swallowed hard, struggling to steady himself.
"He… he killed two of our finest soldiers. Without mercy!"
Silence.
Then—
"WHAT?!" Sultan roared, fury exploding from his chest. "My soldiers… killed?! Is he an ally or an enemy?! I gave him authority to command them—not slaughter them!"
His aura flared with rage.
"I will retrieve the Royal Seal… myself!"
---
Moments later—
Sultan rode at full speed toward the training grounds.
What greeted him…
Was hell.
Rows of soldiers stood frozen, their eyes fixed on the two unmoving figures lying on the ground. A dark stain spread slowly beneath them, seeping into the earth as silence weighed heavily over the battlefield.
The royal training grounds had never witnessed such brutality.
Sultan dismounted, his face dark, and stormed toward Anwar.
"You!" he shouted. "What are you doing?! Did you kill my soldiers?!"
Anwar didn't even turn around at first.
When he did… his expression was calm.
"Yes."
One word.
Cold. Indifferent.
"Soldiers who disobey orders are worse than enemies."
He shifted his gaze toward a trembling officer nearby.
"Commander. Tell me… what is the punishment for disobeying orders?"
The commander stiffened, still shaken.
"Execution… immediately, sir!"
"Good."
Anwar's voice turned sharp, absolute.
"Seventh soldier from the right… kill the eighth."
"Y-Yes, sir!"
The seventh soldier stepped forward without hesitation, raising his spear.
The eighth soldier reacted instantly, blocking the strike with his own weapon.
Clang!
Steel met steel.
They fought.
Fiercely.
Desperately.
And the others…
Watched.
No one dared to interfere.
Sultan stared in disbelief. "What are you doing?! You ordered him to kill his comrade! Everyone will start refusing orders like this!"
Anwar chuckled softly.
"Watch closely."
His eyes gleamed.
"I never ordered the eighth soldier to defend himself… yet he fights with everything he has."
He raised a finger.
"First Law: Your life is your own responsibility."
His voice deepened.
"If he cannot fight to protect his own worthless life… how will he fight to protect something greater?"
Sultan fell silent for a moment… then spoke again, calmer this time.
"That may be true… but making them kill each other is madness. How will they trust you?"
Anwar turned to him slowly.
A faint, chilling smile appeared.
"Trust?" he said.
"Trust is irrelevant."
His eyes darkened.
"Fear… is what matters."
He stepped closer.
"Tell me, Your Majesty… your enemies—are they human?"
"…Yes."
"If their king orders them to kill you… will they hesitate?"
"…No."
Anwar's smile widened.
"Then neither will we."
His voice echoed across the field.
"We will not hesitate… to kill our enemies—inside or outside!"
Silence fell.
Then—
"Stop."
Both soldiers froze instantly.
Anwar watched them for a moment… then let out a quiet laugh, leaning slightly toward Sultan.
"He was about to kill him."
Sultan swallowed, unease creeping into his heart.
"What will you do now… Anwar?"
Anwar turned away, already walking.
"I have restored discipline in the royal unit."
He didn't look back.
"Now… I move on to the others."