Once the uninvited guests had disappeared into the dusk, the workers slowly returned to their tasks—though unease still lingered in the air.
Just then, one of the workers approached Naeem, holding a messenger pigeon gently in his hands.
"Sir," the man said, "I think we should call for reinforcements. If those bandits come back, we might not be able to hold them off alone."
Naeem nodded. "You're right. Do it quickly. If they attack before help arrives, we'll be in serious trouble."
The worker immediately sat down, scribbled a message onto a small scroll, tied it to the pigeon's leg, and whispered a quiet command. The bird launched into the night sky, wings slicing through the air like a dart toward the village.
Naeem watched it disappear into the darkness, then turned his eyes toward the sky.
The moon hung low and pale, wrapped in a thin layer of mist—beautiful, but distant.
Something is coming, he thought. Something big.
The Fire Within
Soon after, Razar and Ma-Ho approached him, both fresh from training, sweat still on their brows.
Razar grinned with excitement. "Sir! If they come back, I'll kill every one of them!"
Ma-Ho rolled his eyes. "You idiot. Shut your mouth."
Then he turned to Naeem, serious. "Sir… will we be enough to stop them?"
Naeem didn't answer immediately. His gaze remained fixed on the horizon, where the forest swallowed the last hints of light.
"Maybe," he said finally. "But whether we are or not… we're warriors."
He looked back at them, his voice steady and strong.
"And warriors fight. We don't run. We stand. And when they come—we'll give them the fight of their lives."
Two days passed in stillness—too quiet, too calm. The kind of silence that settles before a storm.
Everyone felt it.
Then it came.
A worker sprinted across the field toward Naeem, breath ragged, eyes wide with panic.
"They're coming!" he shouted. "From the south—they're coming!"
Naeem's expression darkened. The message was clear: the reinforcements hadn't arrived.
The price of delay was upon them.
He reached out his hand, and with a flash of flame and metal, his battle-axe materialized in his grip—its blade glowing faintly with fire energy, humming with power.
He turned to his companions—Razar, Ma-Ho, the guards, and even the workers who now stood behind him once again.
His voice rang out, calm but fierce.
"We may be low in numbers… but what we lack in size, we carry in spirit. We have the hearts of warriors—and they are bigger than any army of thieves."
The air grew still as everyone listened.
"I know you're scared," Naeem said. "So am I. Every warrior is."
His voice softened for a moment.
"I lost someone I loved in battle once… and that fear never leaves you. But today, we don't fight just to survive. We fight so that no village, no family, ever has to suffer under these bandits again."
"If we stand strong today, they fall tomorrow."
He looked each of them in the eyes.
"So stand tall. Hold your power. And when the enemy arrives… make them wish they never came."
A wave of energy passed through the group. The fear that had gripped them began to melt away, replaced by resolve. Even the youngest among them tightened their grip on whatever weapon they held.
They were ready.
And Naeem stood at the front—not just as a warrior.
But as their flame.
The sun had just begun to dip beneath the trees, casting long shadows over the half-finished road.
And then they arrived.
Fifty armed bandits, armored in mismatched gear, faces hardened by violence, formed a jagged line at the edge of the work site. Swords, axes, and crude spears gleamed under the fading light. Their boots crushed the soil with heavy, synchronized steps. These weren't starving scavengers. These were killers.
At the front of the line stood a man—tall, scarred, and radiating menace. His leather armor bore a red fang insignia burned into the chestplate. A long blade rested casually on his shoulder.
He stepped forward, grinning.
"Kneel down," he said, his voice cold and commanding. "Beg for your lives, and I might consider letting a few of you crawl away."
He scanned Naeem's group— a few guards with blades, and two teenage boys standing beside a fire-wielder with a glowing axe.
"You built a road on our land," he spat. "Without permission. That means you've stolen from us."
Naeem stepped forward slowly, his battle-axe already glowing with inner flame. He met the man's eyes with unshaken defiance.
"If it's a fight you want," Naeem said, his voice ringing across the clearing, "then we'll give you one."
"And even if we fall… we'll make sure you don't walk away untouched."
A tense silence followed.
Then Naeem raised his axe skyward, its edge blazing in the dusk.
"Start the battle!" he roared.
The guards formed a wall in front of the Earth users. Ma-Ho's shadow flared beneath his feet. Razar's hands lit with flickering flame, eyes burning with courage.
From the bandits' side, war cries erupted. Weapons were drawn. Power surged in the air.
The ground trembled.
The battle had begun.
The air thickened with tension. Then—chaos.
One of the bandits, an Earth Element user, stepped forward and slammed both hands onto the ground. The soil trembled violently, and a massive stone pillar shot up from the earth with a thunderous crack.
With a roar, he heaved the pillar like a javelin, aiming it at the defensive stone wall Naeem's side had built earlier.
It soared through the air, whistling like a missile.
Then—impact.
The stone wall shattered on one side with a deafening explosion. Dust and chunks of rock burst into the air, and a shockwave of elemental energy rippled across the battlefield, knocking several Earth workers to the ground.
Shouts of panic and rage erupted.
Naeem's eyes locked onto the crumbling flank.
Enough waiting.
He tightened his grip on his battle-axe, flame rushing up the blade like a tide.
Before charging, he turned to Ma-Ho, who was already flaring with raw shadow energy.
"Ma-Ho—stay close to Razar," Naeem barked. "Don't let your confidence get you killed."
Ma-Ho hesitated for half a second, then nodded, understanding the weight in Naeem's voice.
Razar glanced over, grinning with fire dancing on his fists. "Let's do this."
Naeem Unleashed
Then Naeem moved—a blur of fire and fury.
He launched himself forward, his speed amplified by fire energy pulsing in his legs. The earth scorched under every step.
He cut into the enemy ranks like a falling star, his axe a glowing arc of destruction.
The first bandit he reached barely had time to raise his weapon before Naeem's axe cleaved through it—and cut the man in half.
A second tried to counter with a flame blast—Naeem ducked and struck his chest with a burst of fire-infused power, sending him crashing backward into three of his allies.
Each movement was precise. Ruthless. Burning.
Behind him, Ma-Ho and Razar stood back-to-back, defending the flank, shadow and flame twining together in a fierce dance.
And the battle was far from over.
On the far edge of the battlefield, amid smoke and chaos, a lone figure moved like a storm unleashed.
He cut through guards and earth-users with violent precision—his movements not wild, but deliberate, filled with brutal control. Every strike burst with sharp cracks of lightning, every step scorched the ground beneath him.
Then—he felt it.
A familiar aura.
His expression shifted.
"Oh?" he murmured, lips curling into a smile. "So… you're here."
He looked across the battlefield, and through the dust and flicker of flames, he saw Naeem.
The fire-wielder he had fought once before.
The one who had escaped.
His smile vanished.
"No more running."
With a surge of power, La-Dan began to levitate, electricity swirling like a vortex around him. Sparks licked at his armor. Thunder rumbled in the sky above—as if answering his rise.
He stretched out one hand, summoned a glowing lightning sphere, and hurled it directly at Naeem with explosive force.
A Narrow Escape
Naeem was in the midst of striking down a bandit when his instincts flared like fire.
Something was coming.
Powerful. Familiar. Deadly.
He didn't hesitate.
With a sudden twist of his body, he dove aside—and just as he moved, a lightning sphere slammed into the ground where he had stood.
BOOM!
The explosion sent a wall of earth and flame skyward. The shockwave nearly knocked Naeem off his feet.
Dust and sparks rained down.
Then, Naeem's eyes lifted.
Floating above the battlefield stood La-Dan, surrounded by a storm of pure lightning. His long coat whipped in the air. His arms crackled with power. His eyes—cold, furious, locked on Naeem.
He looked like a Thunder God descending for vengeance.
Naeem tightened his grip on his axe, and for a brief moment, the battlefield noise faded into silence.
He whispered the name, almost like a curse:
"La-Dan…"