“Send your sister in, Sankesh,” Rahaim ordered, his eyes still on the book.
She’s not my sister! Sankesh thought, but simply answered:
“Yes, father.”
Sankesh went down the stairs to the lower floors. His father’s disciples wandered among the many shelves. They greeted their Prince respectfully, but their eyes were full of mockery. Behind his back, they whispered and mocked the heir who was incapable of cultivating the Sand Techniques. The boy gritted his teeth and continued to toy with the amulet his mother had given him.
Serra, his sister... his aunt... his grandmother... was where she always was: surrounded by her disciples who adored her, giving then advice and smiles both.
“Girls love flowers, Durmar,” she smiled at one of the men. “Give her flowers. Or a little beaded lizard.”
“Why?”
“To make her think about you when she looks at it. Thoughts, Durmar, have great power.”
Oftentimes, there was a sense of eternity in the eyes of the creature that looked like a nine-year-old girl, but it didn’t last long.
“Play with me!” Serra exclaimed, suddenly losing sight of that wisdom.
“Serra!” Sankesh shouted, not approaching the group of her disciples.
“Yes, little-”
“Don’t call me that!” Sankesh almost shrieked. “Filthy brat…”
“Prince!” The disciples thundered in unison.
Durmar separated from the group and came over to the Prince. Tall and broad-shouldered, he looked like living stone to the child, but the boy didn’t look away. Fearlessly, he stared at the man who could wring his neck with just two fingers and at his massive axe. The young man leaned toward the Prince and whispered so that no one but Sankesh could hear him:
“Watch your mouth, you incompetent puppy. Otherwise, you could have an accident.”
Sankesh gritted his teeth again in impotent anger. With great difficulty, he pretended to ignore the insult.
“Father. Wants. To. See. You. Serra.” Sankesh forced every word out with the force of a blacksmith hammering hot iron.
“Yep!”
The happy girl leapt from her pedestal and ran toward the winding staircase that led up to Sultan Rahaim’s chambers.
Sankesh glared at her back as she ran.
***
“Sound the bugles!” Rahaim shouted.
Standing on the ramparts, clad in gold and steel armor, he didn’t look like a sage, but like a formidable warrior. Below him, under the walls, the bandits’ banners fluttered. Hundreds of thousands of chekhars were besieging the Pearl. They didn’t have the power needed to capture the city, but they were still demanding tribute… These fools didn’t know that Rahaim’s school was strong enough to drive them away.
A low rumble swept over the endless sand. Accompanied by the bandits’ cheers, the capital of the Sea of Sand opened its gates, but instead of a defeated sultan, hundreds of warriors charged in to engage the enemy.
“My Lord!” A scout fell to one knee behind Rahaim.
“Not now!” Rahaim snapped.
Gripping the edge of the wall, he peered at the ranks of his warriors. His heart told him that… And it was true. Alongside his best disciples, his son rode ahead of the army on a desert raven. Sankesh, who was now sixteen, hadn’t even been able to reach the level of the Bodily Rivers. He was almost a mere mortal.
“Fool!” Rahaim wailed. “Idiot! By the Evening Stars, he is my punishment for some great misdeed!” The sultan turned to his subordinate. “Convey my orders to the army: I want the best disciples to immediately-”
“Serra!” The scout interrupted him. “My Lord, the bandits have captured Serra!”
“She should’ve been safe in the library!”
“The girl ran away and-”
At that very moment, a plaintive cry sounded from below, from the direction of the bloody battle. Rahaim ran to the edge of the wall. He watched his only son get yanked out of the saddle, then a slave collar was placed around his neck, and finally, he was dragged away from the battle like a beaten dog.
“Father!” The wind carried the boy’s desperate cry.
Sankesh looked into his father’s eyes, he was the only person who could help him. A second passed… Then two… Before Rahaim turned away. Sankesh had seen only disappointment and contempt in the sultan’s eyes. Contempt for his son’s weakness…
“Father!”
The cry echoed across the battlefield for a long time, but Rahaim didn’t hear it. He was rushing to help Serra.
***
After kicking the helpless golems some more, Sankesh moved on. The elixir of the gods was very close, but for some reason, his heart began to ache. The accursed Evening Stars had forced useless memories from his past before his mind’s eye. And once again, someone was rushing in to help Serra.
“I didn’t tell you this before, freak,” a mad smile twisted Sankesh’s face into an inhuman expression, “but the blades of my daughter, which she killed your beloved Rahaim with, had been laced with poison. He didn’t die quickly. In fact, he took a really, really long time to die…”
Serra looked up at the giant, but all she saw was the abandoned boy whose own mother had died in his arms from a terrible disease.
“But he was your father…”
“I have no father!” Sankesh’s roar shook the walls. “Now shut up, or Rahaim’s fate will seem like a gift from the heavens compared to yours.”
Chapter 406
The northerner jerked his wrist, and the wolf’s mouth that emerged from his gloves lashed out at Hadjar’s sword. He felt as if a battering ram had struck his blade. His feet were lifted off the ground, and Hadjar, after he flew a dozen yards through the air and knocked down two bookshelves, finally landed on the cold floor.
Blood spurted from his mouth. His Technique for Strengthening the Body used up almost a third of his energy reserves at once, but even that wasn’t enough to completely nullify the Spirit Knight’s blow. His bones and skin were still intact, but the same couldn’t be said for his internal organs. The northerner’s single attack had been enough to wound Hadjar.
While Hadjar was recovering, Einen was fighting the northerner. The islander didn’t waste any time: using the Call, he summoned the blood Inheritance of his ancestors to aid him. Iridescent scales covered his skin. The light that they radiated took the form of something like a barely visible sphere. The northerner, upon seeing this, only grinned.
“Northern Wolf,” he said, throwing a straightforward punch.
The floor beneath his feet was instantly covered in a layer of ice. The air got cold, and the northerner’s next attack looked like the same wolf’s face from before. Only this time, it was snarling as it rushed forward and hit Einen.
He flicked the blade inside his staff out and, summoning the shadows, formed the figure of an ape. Wrapped in the same rainbow glow as the islander, it covered Einen with its body. Hadjar knew from experience that such a defense was difficult to bypass. It could deal with simultaneous attacks from several creatures of the Pit that were comparable in power to the level of a mid-stage Heaven Soldier.