1. The Weight of Silence
They rode the stolen horses for the rest of the night, not speaking a word. The raw sound of their own silence was worse than the screams they'd left behind in the village. When the horses finally collapsed from exhaustion, Kevin and Even found themselves in a hollow, rocky basin, miles from any recognizable road. The sun was fully up, harsh and unforgiving.
Even stumbled off his horse and immediately punched the dusty ground. He didn't just cry; he heaved. His body shook with a guttural, terrifying grief that had nowhere to go. This wasn't the simple battle rage that fueled the Ghost Hook; this was the breaking of a man who had finally realized the true, horrifying cost of his freedom. He cried for Rumi and Jax, for Malik, and for the children who had offered them bread. He cried because the gold they had fought for had brought not safety, but death to the innocent.
Kevin just watched. He stood over Even, his own face a mask of stone, but the coldness was a deliberate defence against collapsing. He felt the exact same crushing guilt, but if he let it out, he knew he'd stop being the Strategist, and they would both die right there. The Edge had to remain sharp, even when the soul was dull with sorrow.
After what felt like hours, Even's cries subsided into rasping breaths. He sat up, his face covered in grime and tears. He looked at Kevin, his eyes bloodshot and full of accusation.
"It should have been us," Even choked out. "We shouldn't have run. We should have fought until the end, like they did. What was the point of all that planning, Kevin? We are alive, and they are not. What good is the damn Edge now?"
Kevin finally spoke, his voice dry and scratchy. "The point, Even, is that they chose to die so we could live. They died for the idea of the Meridian Freedom Fighters. If we die here, now, crying over dirt, their sacrifice is just a waste of three good lives. We didn't run to save ourselves; we ran to save the promise. We are the last two left. We finish the job."
Even stared at the stolen horses, then at the blood on his hands. He knew Kevin was right, but the truth was a heavy, bitter pill. He nodded once, the movement stiff. The grief was still there, but now, it was hardening into something cold and terrifying.
2. The Unwritten Rules of the Shadow War
They spent the entire day resting and planning in that hidden basin. The immediate threat was still Jaran's Shadow Brigade. Kevin, the Strategist, outlined the new reality for them.
"We fought General Kray's army. That was a war. We are now fighting Commander Jaran's brigade. That is a Shadow War," Kevin explained, drawing lines in the dirt with a broken stick. "Jaran isn't interested in Samaran territory; he's interested in us. He's smart, precise, and ruthless. He used the village as bait and confirmed our identities. He knows we value life. That was his weakness to exploit."
Even leaned in, the fury returning, but this time with focus. "So, what's the rule now? We stop caring about life?"
"No," Kevin corrected him firmly. "The rule now is: No one else dies for us. Our actions must no longer touch innocent people. And if Jaran brings war to innocents because of us, we stop running and bring the war directly to him. We fight only the military, and we fight where they are weakest—at the heart."
Kevin's new plan was complex, requiring a level of risk they had never contemplated, even during the Death March. They needed to do three things: Disappear, Rebuild, and Strike.
Disappear: They had to use their gold to vanish from the known world. They needed a secret, permanent base of operations far from any recognized kingdom—a place where no King or Commander would ever look.
Rebuild: Two men cannot fight a kingdom. They needed to use their gold to build a new network, recruiting the strongest, most unaffiliated soldiers, spies, and informants the world had to offer. They needed to rebuild the Freedom Fighters, not as mercenaries, but as a genuine, international threat.
Strike: The ultimate goal remained the Meridian Crown, but now they had to take a detour to eliminate the immediate threat: Jaran and the entire Surat power structure. They would use their rebuilt force to cripple Surat's military and resources.
Even listened intently. The goal of destroying a kingdom was big enough to swallow his grief. "Where do we start? We're two men, broke down, stuck in a hole."
Kevin tapped the stick on a rough map he'd drawn. "We start with the last place anyone would look. We start with the Gold Coast."
3. The Lure of the Gold Coast
The Gold Coast was a chain of independent, lawless islands far to the south, notorious for piracy, smuggling, and the world's most robust illegal trading market. It was a place ruled purely by wealth and ruthlessness. It was a place where Crowns held no power, and only strength and gold mattered.
Kevin saw it as the perfect sanctuary and recruitment hub.
"It's dirty, chaotic, and completely outside the jurisdiction of Samara or Surat," Kevin explained. "With our remaining ten million gold coins, we are kings on the Gold Coast. We can buy ships, weapons, and silence. And most importantly, we can recruit the best people who hate the Crown just as much as we do."
The plan was highly dangerous. The Gold Coast was full of traitors and cutthroats. But it was the only place where their wealth could truly buy them sovereignty—a place where they would have no masters, and no one else would die for their decisions.
"We risk the gold, and we risk being killed by thieves," Even noted, but the fire was back in his eyes.
"We risk everything," Kevin confirmed. "But for the first time, we risk it for a goal bigger than a contract. We risk it to build an army worthy of Rumi and Jax's sacrifice. We risk it to end Surat and go home."
4. The Last of the Thirteen Million
Before moving, Kevin needed to address their wealth. They still had a substantial fortune, but the bulk of the Thirteen Million Gold was in Samaran banks or highly trackable investment bonds. They needed to liquidate quickly and turn it into portable assets.
Kevin contacted the one person he knew on the Gold Coast who valued gold more than loyalty: a shadowy banker named Silas. Silas was known for his ability to move mountains of illegal money instantly.
The conversation was terse, done through a smuggled, coded device.
"Silas. Thirteen Million. You move ten million into untraceable gems and hard currency. Your cut is twenty percent," Kevin stated, without preamble.
Silas's voice crackled through the device. "Twenty percent? That's two million gold coins, Kevin. That's insanity. Even for you."
"The price is high because the risk is higher," Kevin replied coldly. "Surat is hunting us. If you move this gold, you buy my loyalty. If you betray us, Even will tear down your bank stone by stone. You decide."
Silas knew the reputation of the Ghost Hook and the Edge. He took the deal. Kevin immediately initiated the transfer, betting a massive two million gold coins on a single, ruthless banker. It was a huge risk, but necessary. They were now down to eight million liquid gold for their future operations, but it was all portable.
5. The Journey South: A New Kind of Death March
With the plan set, they left the basin, taking only the two strongest horses. Even's grief had solidified into absolute focus. He was moving with a terrible, contained energy that promised destruction.
Their journey to the coast was slow and full of paranoia. They traveled exclusively off-road, moving through forests, swamps, and across rivers. They encountered bandits—small groups of disorganized thieves who saw two strong, heavily armed men and smelled money. They made quick, brutal work of them. Kevin never allowed the fights to last more than a minute, leaving no survivors and no witnesses.
This new journey was a different kind of Death March—not one of survival, but one of absolute paranoia and necessary elimination. They trusted no one, and they showed no mercy. Every person they encountered was a potential assassin sent by Jaran.
As they finally approached the southern coastline, the air grew humid and salty. Kevin looked at Even. "The Gold Coast is hell, Even. It's where all the world's mistakes wash up."
Even looked out at the vast, open ocean—a boundary they had never crossed before. He didn't smile, but his eyes held a dangerous glint. "We're two mistakes that got away, Kev. And now, we're going to build our own kingdom there."
They were ready to leave the continent behind and begin the slow, ruthless process of building their new army—the army that would finally end the War That Never Ends