The Wrath of the Unchained-Chapter 73 - Ghosts of Justice

The elder looked like he had just swallowed lemons. His face turned sour as he looked at Khisa.

"As promised, we will lead you to Shewa and offer an introduction."

Khisa smiled proudly. The Shadow Guard was shaping up to be an elite team, each member more capable than the last.

"I only need one guide, and a map. I promised an old chief to wipe out the Adal insurgents in this area."

"Isn’t that presumptuous? They have muskets and numbers. You and your guards will never survive the journey," the elder said dismissively.

"My guards are not your concern. They are ready and willing to put down those who hurt others," Khisa replied, voice calm but firm.

The elder sighed. "At least take the guns. You might need them."

"No need for that. Whatever happens, we’ll figure it out as we go along."

The elder looked at the young prince, baffled.

How had they survived for so long? he wondered.

"It’s foolish to think your men can outrun bullets. You’ll lead them to their deaths even before you reach Shewa."

Khisa exhaled slowly. "Perhaps you’re right. But my guards are the best in the world. They’ll learn to fight with their own hands. Our enemies may seem strong with their weapons, but what happens when they drop them? What happens when they sleep, believing in their false strength? What happens when the shadows appear in front of them before they even have a chance to load their guns?"

He smiled. The elder felt a chill crawl down his spine. That smile promised death.

"This man is a force to be reckoned with," he mumbled.

"Biruk will lead you to Shewa tomorrow morning. You can rest here for the night. What will you do with the remaining women?"

Khisa glanced at the battered young women who were now cheerfully smiling and helping in the village.

"Why can’t everyone just be kind?" he muttered, then sighed.

[It is human nature, I suppose.] Ayaan said in his mind.

"Please let them stay here for now. My guards and I will clean up those bastards. I won’t leave even a single one alive."

"That seems reckless."

"No matter. For us, they are just training dummies. Once we reach Shewa, Biruk will return. I suggest you find a way to collect the weapons we leave behind."

"I thought you don’t need weapons," the elder replied with a light smile.

"It’s for you—to strengthen your forces. Clearly, the Adal are planning to take everything from you. Any advantage you get is a necessary one. We’ll leave behind their horses, muskets, and supplies. Take everything. Things like that could be the difference between life and death."

The elder looked at Khisa with newfound respect. He was clearly a man who thought ten steps ahead. Perhaps the war might finally end.

"I will give you a letter of introduction to the commander at Shewa. Whether he agrees to help you depends on your luck."

"That is more than enough."

They parted ways for the night.

The next morning, Khisa told the rescued women that once Biruk returned, they would be free to go home. The village elders would help them return safely after the cleanup.

But the women were reluctant to leave. They had come to enjoy the company of the Shadows—their strength, their easygoing nature, and the safety they offered.

"Prince Khisa? If I study and become proficient in medicine, will you accept me in your company?" one young woman asked.

"Me too!" echoed others, their eyes filled with hope.

Khisa smiled. This was what he fought for—the freedom to choose one’s path.

"As long as you need a place, Nuri will always welcome you."

And with that, Khisa and the Shadow Guard rode off into the horizon.

Their journey led them into a war-torn country, ravaged by Adal incursions.

"For the future of Nuri, this kingdom must push back the invaders. This is not going to be easy," he muttered.

[I will be here to assist you as always, Khisa. You’ve accomplished more than you think you have. The future in this timeline is already looking brighter.]

"Thank you for your encouragement. I will succeed no matter what. I won’t allow the future to unfold as it did in my previous world."

After days of travel, they came upon another Adal encampment. A group of soldiers were resting lazily, muskets slung carelessly, cages filled with frightened women nearby.

Zuberi’s eyes narrowed. "Those men are pigs."

Khisa nodded, assessing the situation.

This group was smaller than the last but still heavily armed.

"Sir! Please allow us. I have not been able to hold back my anger since the last rescue," Zuberi said.

Khisa looked at his team—each one ready. He glanced at Faizah, who had been training quietly, her hand resting nervously on her sword.

He smiled. "Let loose. Show them what happens when they disrespect women."

The Shadows exploded from the treeline with a coordinated fury. Zuberi was first, her twin blades flashing in the morning light as she sliced through the first startled guard, his musket falling uselessly from his hands.

"What the—? Who are these women?!"

Another soldier raised his musket only for an arrow to pierce his shoulder from afar—Nia and Musimbi covering from a nearby ridge.

Faizah rushed in, nervous but determined. She met a young Adal soldier who sneered at her.

"Run back home, girl. You don’t belong here."

He lunged, musket butt swinging. Faizah blocked, the blow shaking her arms. She countered, swinging clumsily. He laughed, parrying easily.

She gritted her teeth and adjusted. She remembered Naliaka’s training—small steps, aim for the legs. She ducked, feinted, and slashed his thigh.

He screamed in pain. "You little—"

She caught his next strike, barely, then slammed her hilt into his nose. He stumbled. She didn’t hesitate—driving her blade into his side. Her breathing was ragged, but she’d done it.

Nearby, Naliaka danced between attackers, her short sword gleaming. She used her daggers to parry, cut tendons, and disarm. One man swung a bayonet—she ducked low, stabbed him behind the knee, then slit his throat cleanly.

Zara leapt from behind a tent, twin daggers slashing quickly. "You call yourselves soldiers?" she sneered, blood dripping from her blades.

Musimbi twirled her staff with precision, knocking rifles from hands and delivering rib-crushing strikes. She moved like the wind—graceful, relentless.

Faida, tall and fierce, used her spear to impale a charging soldier through the chest, then pivoted and swept the legs of another, finishing him with a downward strike.

Jelani towered over the battlefield, shield raised, deflecting musket fire with controlled power. She plowed through the enemy lines like a battering ram, slamming foes into trees and crushing bones with her fists.

The Adal soldiers panicked. "They’re demons! Retreat! Retreat!"

But the Shadows did not relent. Their arrows rained from afar, and every time an Adal musket rose, it was met with death.

Within minutes, the camp was silent, save for the groans of the wounded and the cries of the freed.

Khisa stepped into the center, surveying the scene.

The women in cages stared at him, unsure.

"You’re safe now," he said. "The shadows will always protect the innocent."

Faizah wiped blood from her brow. Khisa approached her, resting a hand on her shoulder.

"You did well. Remember this feeling—it means you chose to stand when others fell."

She smiled, tears glistening. "I won’t stop now."

As the last of the Adal soldiers fell, the camp was filled with the heavy silence of victory. Smoke from musket fire still hung in the air, mixing with the acrid stench of blood and gunpowder. The caged women wept—some from relief, others from sorrow. The Shadows stood silently, letting the moment settle into their bones.

Faizah’s blade, once pristine, now dripped red. Her chest heaved, not from exhaustion, but from the overwhelming storm inside her. She stared at the man she had slain—his eyes frozen in a mixture of surprise and fear. Her hand trembled.

Khisa walked over, his voice low and steady. "You did what had to be done."

She looked up at him, her eyes searching. "He... he was still alive when I pulled my blade free. I saw it. I’ve never—" She broke off, voice cracking.

Khisa placed a hand on her shoulder. "The first time always shakes you. That’s what makes you human. But remember who he was, and what he was doing. You chose the lives of the innocent over his. That will never be the wrong choice."

Faizah nodded slowly, still trying to steady her breath.

Biruk, who had watched the entire battle in stunned silence, now approached. His eyes were wide—not just with disbelief, but admiration.

"You fight like ghosts," he muttered. "They never saw it coming. I’ve never seen anything like it. This is not war... it’s art."

He turned to Khisa. "Prince, I was wrong to doubt you. Your guards... your Shadows... they are something else entirely. If it’s not too bold of me to ask—one day, will you train me too?"

Khisa gave a small smile. "When this war is over, and Nuri stands unshaken, come to us. I’ll make sure you learn not just how to fight—but how to protect."

Biruk bowed his head. "Then I look forward to that day."

Khisa looked to the horizon. More battles lay ahead, but today they had won.

And the Shadow Guard stood stronger than ever.