Part 1

  The winds howled across the Chyulu plains as the first hints of dawn painted the sky in streaks of deep violet and indigo. The battle had raged through the night, and exhaustion clung to the warriors like a second skin. Wadero tightened his grip around his spear, his breath heavy but controlled. Simanzi stood beside him, the scars of battle adorning them like grim medals of survival.

  The emergency request had come in mere hours ago. An isolated village on the border of Chyulu was under siege by an army of demonic beasts. Scouts had reported grotesque horrors marching through the land, and Ranga’s Royal Guard had been deployed in force. Three hundred elite warriors had set out, confident in their abilities partly due to the success they had experienced in their first engagements during the journey to Tana.

  But confidence was a fickle thing.

  The beasts had been unlike any they had encountered before. Their sheer numbers were overwhelming, their strength beyond expectation. The most terrifying among them were the Demon Millipedes. Each massive segment of their long bodies split open to reveal smaller, more agile creatures—serpentine horrors that moved with deadly speed.

  Even with the reinforcement of the local Chyulu guard, the battle was a desperate struggle. What was meant to be a counteroffensive had turned into a slow, agonizing retreat. The ground beneath them was soaked with blood, and the cries of the wounded filled the air.

  Wadero cursed under his breath. His men were being corralled like prey, pushed back inch by inch. His instincts screamed at him—this was a battle they could not win. His thoughts grew dark, despair creeping into his soul.

  And then, as if the heavens themselves had answered, the sky was set ablaze.

  A hail of innumerable streaking lights descended upon the battlefield, each one striking true. The shrieks of the beasts were deafening as they fell in waves, impaled by divine force.

  Wadero’s heart pounded in his chest as he gazed upon the aftermath. The arrows were of a design he knew all too well.

  Someone. One of their kin had arrived. As for who it was...

  Part 2

  The twilight of dawn drapes a certain ancient town in a hushed glow as the last whispers of night fade into the golden embrace of the coming day.

  The beat of a drum echoed through its ancient temple and beyond its walls to the people’s homes. Each strike reverberating through the very air itself. It was a heavy sound, yet rhythmic—a divine tune woven into the fabric of existence.

  A woman dances to this beat in a ritual honoring the rise of a new day and the end of a shadowed night.

  She dances to honor those who have passed and those who are yet to come.

  She dances as a means of prayer and solemn duty.

  She dances to gain wisdom and clarity.

  She dances in honor of Vuli.

  Her name is Lianna and she moved with purpose, her body a vessel of both grace and devotion. Each step of her dance honored the cycle of life and death.

  Her flowing robes billowed with each movement, catching the light of the torches that surrounded her. Sweat beaded on her brow, but she did not falter. This was more than ritual; it was a communion, a sacred duty passed down through generations.

  As she completed the final motion, her eyes fluttered shut as she gained Revelation on things yet to come.

  An end yet to truly begin.

  A tale woven in threads of fate and shadow.

  A smile graced her lips as an old friend entered her mind.

  The High Priest of Gesa had made his way to her.

  “How interesting,” she murmured.

  Part 3

  The arid winds of the rocky wilderness howled around Oraki and his companion, the Great War Rhino whose name he never deigned to remember. The beast’s heavy footfalls thudded against the cracked earth as they made their way toward the legendary Kwa Ngoma, the city housing the main temple of Lord Vuli.

  Oraki exhaled, shifting the weight of his staff against his shoulder.

  “To think I'd end up visiting Lianna of all people..."

  The Rhino snorted. “Hrrphhh??(What kind of person is she? If she can make you scared, she must be amazing.)”

  Oraki furrowed his brow, recalling memories of Lianna.

  “Inquisitive,” he finally said. “But not in the way Matuzo is. She cares deeply but has a rather sadistic way of showing it. Especially towards me.”

  The War Rhino grunted in confusion. “Hrrph? (Sadistic?)”

  A dry chuckle escaped Oraki’s lips as he recounted the many trials that she had put him through. From her insistence that he test her experimental weapons to her fascination with pushing the limits of his endurance.

  She had once forced him to act as target practice for her golems, even promising to make him into one if he ever perished.

  “Hrrphhh... (Sounds like she enjoys tormenting you...),” the Rhino observed.

  The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  Oraki nodded solemnly. “She does. I once asked her why, and according to her, she’s just always felt a strong urge to do so ever since the moment she first saw my face...”

  Perhaps it was their opposing natures. He was the champion of the god of life, and she was the disciple of the god of death. From their first meeting, an instinctual revulsion had stirred between them, yet from that discord, an unlikely friendship had been born.

  As Oraki mused on these matters, the city of Kwa Ngoma came into view.

  It seemed to grow out from the base of a large rocky hill, Jeneza Mount.

  As they neared Kwa Ngoma, a sudden whirlwind rose, engulfing them in a violent storm of sharp wind.

  Oraki tried to shield himself from the rushing debris of sand and stone that the winds were carrying.

  Seeing the dangerous velocity of the rising debris, Oraki held out his hand and channeled Gesa’s divine aura. With the authority over all earthen things born from the land, he put a halt to the stones themselves.

  However, the windstorm still howled with great vigor.

  Laughter suddenly echoed through the storm, mischievous and playful.

  Oraki sighed. He knew that laughter too well.

  “Her djinn familiars,” he muttered. “She sent them to greet me.”

  Part 4

  The battlefield was awash with blood and chaos, yet the sudden rain of divine arrows had turned the tide.

  Wadero’s gaze followed the trajectory of the piercing lights. He recognized the craftsmanship instantly—these were no ordinary arrows.

  Simanzi and the other War Chiefs could not help but be in awe of the aftermath.

  Thousands of these arrows had been unleashed upon the enemy.

  Nearly all of them had been torn asunder.

  Only the larger ones remained in one piece and seemed eager to continue.

  Injuries be damned.

  "Did you see that, Nyika?"

  Simanzi spoke to a fellow War Chief. A rather tall man with a lean build and a naturally tired-looking face.

  “Yes,” He answered Simanzi while wearing his usual forced smile, “ It was an amazing attack, but we must still be vigilant.”

  The two War Chiefs readied their Spirit Weapons and were about to order their soldiers to prepare to attack when...

  “Everybody!!! Stay back!!! Don't go near them!!!”

  Wadero’s cries froze them in their tracks.

  Suddenly, the arrows that had pierced into the larger beasts began vibrating.

  They lodged deep into the flesh of the demonic beasts, burrowing further as the creatures shrieked in agony. Then came the true horror.

  From each wound, arrowheads began sprouting outward, ripping through sinew and bone. Their entire bodies became riddled with them.

  The grotesque display sent shivers through even the most battle-hardened warriors.

  A curse, yet also a divine blessing.

  A technique belonging to only one man.

  As the last of the creatures fell, Wadero traced back the trajectory of the original onslaught. A simple task for one such as him.

  Sure enough, descending the brow of a distant hill was the enormous presence of one of Vutenia's legendary Nine Generals.

  The pinnacle of military strength in all of Vutenia.

  Makola the Vast.

  Wadero exhaled both in relief and a slight bit of shame.

  “So, you’ve come, Lord Makola...”

  Part 5

  The temple of Vuli stood solemn and foreboding, its presence commanding the very air around it.

  Oraki strode through its halls, yet each step grew heavier. He could feel his energy being drained, leached away by a mystic force.

  He knew the feeling all too well...

  He did not hesitate. With practiced ease, he pulled three white-stone talismans from his pouch and cast them to the ground. A prayer left his lips, and in an instant, divine energy surged outward, filling the temple and pushing back the oppressive force.

  With the affliction lifted, he pushed open the grand doors.

  Inside, a woman sat comfortably, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

  Oraki exhaled sharply.

  “What’s the meaning of all this, Lianna? A test?”

  A beautiful, regal woman with long, braided hair adorned with beads sat confidently on an intricately designed throne.

  She wore an elegant black gown complemented by a richly patterned purple and gold cape draped over one shoulder and fastened onto her with a circular brooch.

  A fur trim added to her commanding presence, exuding both authority and sophistication.

  Her piercing gaze looked upon the livid face of her honored guest.

  She answered with a playful smile. “A simple greeting, my dear Oraki.”

  Before continuing, she raised one hand with an elegant, fluid gesture, drawing attention to her expressive eyes and confident demeanor.

  “How are you? It’s been ages !!!”

  Her happy and eager tone did little to lower Oraki’s guard.

  “Spare me the pleasantries. It hasn’t been that long. You’re the one person I see a little too often.”

  “Oh?” She said as she brought her raised hand to her chest. “You wound me. It almost sounds like you dread the thought of seeing me.”

  Her face showed a most insincere look of worry.

  “If you weren’t always endangering me both mentally and physically, then perhaps that wouldn’t be the case.”

  “I’ve done nothing of the sort.”

  Her dumbfounded expression made Oraki a little peeved.

  “Your djinn familiars nearly minced me and my War Rhino with a dust storm.”

  “They were just happy to see you, that’s all. It was a harmless little game.”

  He shook his head, knowing better than to believe her excuses.

  “And I’m saying it wasn’t.”

  “Alright. Alright. Sorry for the trouble. I’ll make sure they’re well-behaved next time.”

  Oraki wished she could promise the same thing for herself, but for now, he would take what he could get. There were bigger matters to deal with.

  “In any case, on to the business at hand. I’m here for the White Serpent’s Trial.”

  Lianna’s expression did not change, but a strange excitement flickered behind her gaze.

  “This is a dangerous path,” she murmured. “May I ask what brought this on?”

  “Tili’s in danger. She was afflicted with a curse that not even Matuzo could develop a cure for. At least, not before she succumbs.”

  Her expression softened at the mention of those names. Rather, at the mention of one in particular.

  “Matuzo…Is he the one that gave you the idea to come here?”

  “Yes. He told me the Serpent’s venom could heal her in time.”

  “And how is he? He was quite angry the last time he was here.”

  “He’s doing well. He’s come up with all sorts of new spells and contraptions.”

  “That’s my Matuzo, always the great thinker…”

  She said this with an infectious expression of joy and pride on her face.

  The innocent display of love nearly left Oraki speechless.

  Having regained composure, she gestured toward the great doors at the end of the temple, the entrance to Jeneza Cave.

  “Beyond those gates lies the path to the Underworld itself. If you wish to take the trial, then know that you’ll journey to the gate of the final layer. What you seek shall lay there.”

  Oraki looked upon them. His eagerness did not go unnoticed by Lianna.

  “I should warn you. The reason I rejected Matuzo from taking this trial is because only one of the 9 Generals or a member of the Triumvirate stands any chance of enduring the ordeal.”

  Her face had an extremely grim expression as she continued, “Carelessness is fatal. You understand why, don’t you?”

  “Yeah. If only one of the Triumvirate or someone similar in strength has any chance of enduring it, then the challenge is hard enough to crush even them.”

  The Triumvirate were the three most powerful shamans of the three Chief Gods of Vutenia. High King Ranga was naturally one of them, alongside Lianna and Oraki.

  They were considered rivals to the 9 Generals when it came to mystic power. Despite their power being more spiritual than military-based. Nonetheless, few things could challenge their strength, much less endanger them.

  “Exactly. Still want to try?”

  “Do you even need to ask?”

  Lianna let out a small laugh at Oraki’s words before continuing.

  Of course, he would. If it’s for his family, Oraki would fight even the gods themselves if he had to. This was only natural for him.

  “I see. That’s wonderful. Then you’ll need this.”

  She stood up and grabbed a white stone that looked like a fragment of a broken statue.

  She walked over to Oraki and gave it to him

  “What is this?”

  “You’ll know once you get there,” she said with an elegant smile.

  It made Oraki incredibly uneasy about the whole affair.

  Nonetheless, he made his way towards the great gates of Jeneza Cave, the entrance to the Underworld.

  What lay beyond them was a mystery for time to unravel.