Swords of Justice
Chapter 2: The Hero's Tale
He was incredibly fast—no one could keep up.
A first punch to the face.
A second to the gut.
A third to the neck.
A fourth to the shoulder...
The blows kept coming, even though he was completely unarmed.
Only one man remained—huge and muscular, wielding a massive warhammer. He looked visibly shaken. And who wouldn't be, after watching all his comrades fall to a single unarmed man?
Still, he was overconfident in his size and his weapon. He stepped forward to attack Hamza.
But Hamza gave him a cold, piercing stare. The man froze in place.
"What is this terrifying gaze? I… I can't move!"
Hamza began walking toward him, slowly, steadily.
The man couldn't move a muscle.
"Why can't I run?"
Despite being smaller, Hamza now looked like a towering giant. He leaned in and whispered:
"Kneel."
Without thinking, the man dropped to his knees, placing them eye-to-eye.
Hamza raised his fist to land a devastating blow—
But before it could land, the man collapsed unconscious from sheer fear. Hamza lowered his hand.
Just then, the man's friend jumped at Hamza from behind, sword drawn, yelling:
"I'll slice your throat, you bastard!"
But Hamza blocked the attack with his bare hands.
– The attacker shouted in shock:
"How?! How did you sense my attack?! And how are you holding my sword with your hands—it's razor sharp! It cuts through wood like paper!"
– Hamza replied calmly:
"Simple. I'm not wood."
He tightened his grip—and shattered the sword in half.
– The man screamed in disbelief:
"Impossible! You broke it… with your hands?!"
– Hamza said coldly:
"Because you're weak. And your sword's spirit is even weaker than you."
Then he punched the man in the face, shattering his nose and skull. The man flew across the room, crashing into one of the restaurant's wooden cabinets.
And just like that, Hamza had defeated everyone—without even drawing a weapon.
He had won what seemed like an entire battle... alone.
Turning to the terrified slave girls nearby, he said:
"Don't be afraid… You are no longer slaves."
He returned to his seat and calmly resumed eating. The restaurant owner approached him, stunned.
– "You said your name is Hamza ibn Ali?"
– "Yes, that's me."
– "I heard that wherever you go, peace follows."
– "I am merely a peacebringer. I hate evil and oppression. I've trained for years to uphold that goal."
– "You're incredibly strong! You defeated twenty armed men with your bare hands!"
– "Since I was young, I traveled to many kingdoms and mastered every martial art I could."
– "So you're a warrior seeking power?"
– "I was born in Dar Homsan. At age fourteen, I began my journey. I went to the Kingdom of Malkana to study the way of the sword—their blades are legendary. Then to the Kingdom of Foza, where I trained in hand-to-hand combat and body conditioning in their harsh, frozen mountains. If I had been weak, I wouldn't have survived.
After eight grueling years, I returned to Dar Homsan, combining swordsmanship with hand combat. Then I trained for an entire year under a master known for his blinding speed. I became fast—very fast."
– "Incredible! I wouldn't have believed any of this if I hadn't seen it myself. But tell me—since you've visited so many lands, have you been to the Kingdom of the Unknown Lands?"
– "Not yet. The warriors of that land are… legendary. They fight like mist—unseen. Sixty years ago, they nearly destroyed Dar Homsan in an invasion. But a single man stopped them… a legendary warrior named Ali ibn Fateh. My father. And I'm on the path to become like him."
– "Unbelievable! That explains everything—your strength is in your blood. You're the son of the hero, Ali ibn Fateh!"
– "In his final moments, when I was just thirteen, my father made me promise to bring peace to the Four Kingdoms. He tried and failed—and entrusted me with the mission. I knew I had to become stronger than he ever was. I told my sword master in Malkana about my desire to visit the Unknown Lands. He advised me to wait—until I unlocked my true strength."
– "But you're strong now. Why haven't you gone?"
– "When I returned to Dar Homsan, I trained under that speed master. That's where I met his daughter. She was my age. We fell in love. I asked him for her hand in marriage. He agreed… but told me that the village tradition required any suitor to prove himself by retrieving a red flower that only blooms atop a deadly, towering mountain. Many had died trying.
I faced great hardships, but never gave up. A year later, I returned… with the flower."
– "And then?!"
– "When I arrived, I found the village… burned to ash. Every soul slaughtered. Even my master and his daughter. Their bodies… torn apart. A sight I wouldn't wish on even my worst enemy.
I was devastated. I blamed myself. I had left them. Then I heard laughter…
I turned and saw a drunken man playing with my fiancée's severed head. I lost all reason. I grabbed him, slammed him down, choked him, and screamed:
'Who are you? Why did you do this?!'
He laughed and sneered:
'We're the sons of Balmoud. We came to take revenge on this village. And today, we got it.'
I swore by Almighty God that I would avenge them, and make death wear my face.
Then… I cut off his head.
And from that day on, I've been hunting them. That was four years ago."
– "So… you're out for revenge?"
– "No… as I said, I'm a peacemaker. But there will be no peace… until every criminal is dead before they can kill the innocent."
– "You truly are a righteous man."
– "I won't call myself righteous… until peace reigns across all the kingdoms."
Just then, one of the former slave girls stepped forward, her voice trembling:
"Please… help me. I want to return to my children…"
…To be continued.