The Rise Of The Saviour - 1 The battle of justice

“Kill him !!!”

“Kill him !!!”

“Show him no mercy master !!!”

The entire crowd was shouting deliriously inside the coliseum. The arena, which had been gathering dust for quite some time was bustling with the dwellers of Nubia. The smell of sweat, from the people sitting under the soul scalding sun, was overpowering the dry metallic scent of blood strewn all across the field. The dried crimson of the blood was the only silent remnant that was left of the people who had fought before.

Bets were being raised, coins were being tossed. The odds were known to all. It was not a fight, it was going to be a bloodbath, for their master had never lost a single duel in his entire life.

The name of their master was enough to bring in a shiver down the spine of the enemy, but today a reckless fool had decided to challenge him for mortal combat.

The entire coliseum reverberated as their master Nubeous arrived. Twilled in silken robes and aesthetic pearls, he waved at the crowd which was hailing him non stop. Even though his challenger was a mere peasant, he decided to duel by himself as he wanted to silence any future uproars by setting an example. The strength in his little finger was enough to crush the opponent to death, but today he wanted to make a show out of it. After all, it was an opportunity to please his followers by giving them a bit of drama, a bit of action.

The uproar was deafening but unperturbed by what the crowd was roaring about, a quiet timid figure kept on chanting her silent prayers. She was hugging onto the rickety wooden stand tightly underneath the seating area of the coliseum. Her tattered clothes were laced with dirt and dust like that of a homeless wanderer. She looked extremely frail and tiny, still in her early teens.

Tears were streaming down her cheeks and her quivering lips kept whispering one single name.

“Morpheus…”

“Help me Morpheous…”

“Please God. Give strength to my brother…”

“Morpheus… please…”

And then suddenly the door next to her was swung open. The creak was so loud that it seemed like the sky was blowing apart. The jaws of the onlookers were opened wide and there was only silence that prevailed after. A cloud of dust laced the entrance and all that people could hear was the rasp of metal as if someone was dragging a dozen chains.

As the dust settled in, people could see the faint figure of the peasant whose death was written to happen just minutes away. He was chained from top to bottom and those metal rings bore the testimony of the torture that his body had imbibed.

Anybody else in his position would have cursed their stars for master Nubeous was no ordinary opponent. He was known as God’s own child. He hailed such great powers that kingdoms around Nubia never dared to encroach even an inch into their territory. They had all accepted master Nubeous as their sovereign leader, such was the terror of his supernatural powers. With a single snap of his fingers, he was capable of sucking the life out of anyone for he possessed the soul ring that gave him the power to obliviate the lifelines of his enemies in seconds. It made him invincible.

But that poor peasant stood tall, undefied by the presence of master Nubeous, undefied by what was going to happen next.

People who had flocked in numbers just to enjoy another merciless killing were surprised to see the undying fearlessness in the man and so was master Nubeous. He looked at the man who was all nonchalant even though he was standing inches away from death. A smile spread on his lips because it was going to be a good show. Finally, he had met someone who stood brave in the face of death.

“Unchain him.”

He ordered and the crowd started howling in excitement as the shackles were removed.

The man stood there without budging an inch. There was not even a tinge of emotion on his face even though the night before the man in front of him had destroyed his family, his home, and in fact his entire village. The only feeling that he possessed now was that of revenge. His insides were boiling, but he stood there calmly even though his eyes were busy searching for someone. He slowly turned around, trying to scan the entire crowd and when he did, slowly the intensity of the howl started depreciating.

That man looked nothing like a mere peasant. He possessed a statuesque figure. Barrel-chested with a herculean physique, he looked like a fighter. His smoldering amber-colored eyes quickly landed upon that frail-looking girl. He didn’t say a word and just gave her a gentle nod before turning towards his opponent who was about to lament him.

“Do you have any last wishes?”

Master Nubeous asked sarcastically and the crowd went hysterical.

But he stood there silently without uttering a word and somehow that irked master Nubeous.

“So you don’t have any last wishes? Have I scared you so much that you dare not speak?”

Saying that master Nubeous let out a chuckle and then asked,

“What is your name? At least I should know your name before I scatter you into pieces. I have that much sense of respect for my opponents.”

“Morpheous…”

“Oh, come again. Your voice is too weak for me to hear.”

And the next second a voice echoed in the coliseum. A voice that was louder than the spring thunder.

“My name is Morpheous. Lord Morpheous.”

“And I shall have no last wishes. I just have a condition.”

The grating chuckle was wiped away from the face of master Nubeous and each and every nerve of his body raged in anger because of the defiance showed by the measly peasant. He was a nobody, yet in front of hundreds, he had the audacity to challenge him.

The jaws of people dropped, for that mere peasant was trying to poke the sleeping lion.

“Ohh! so our Lord Morpheous has conditions now? I didn’t know we had a barter system in place.”

Saying that master Nubeous started to loosen his robe, as he was getting impatient to silence the uncouth peasant standing in front of him. But he didn’t want to lose even a hair of respect from his followers. So after removing his robe, he looked into the eyes of Morpheous for a while, and then with a tone laced with mockery, he uttered the words whose repercussions he was completely unaware of.

“Since I am feeling generous today, I will listen to your conditions, come what may !!!”

The crowd clapped and applauded their king and jeered Morpheous for his audacity. But unfazed by the reaction of people around him he continued,

“My condition is that if I win in this mortal combat then you shall denounce the Kindom of Nubia. You shall leave this land and never dare to set a foot inside. Nubia will be ruled by the common council which will punish the people who were involved in burning my village.”

Hearing his condition, Master Nubeous was enraged to the core. His stomach churned and for a moment he felt like snapping his fingers and turn him into ashes with his soul ring. But that would have brought in nothing but shame in front of the crowd as it was supposed to be a mortal combat.

“Do you accept?”

Asked Morpheous with a solemn voice.

Master Nubeous looked into his eyes and then slowly removed his soul ring and placed it on the velvet cushion held by his keeper. Interlocking his fingers he cracked his knuckles and then with a smirk on his face, he said,

“Nubia will always be mine.”

Raising his index finger, Master Nubeous hinted his hand-man to mark the beginning of the fight.

The roaring sound of the foghorn filled the arena and the excitement of the crowd has piqued to the brim in an instant. The blazing sun lit up in gold and filled the coliseum with yellow flames.

“May the best man win.”

And saying that Master Nubeous raised his hand and pin drop silence prevailed for no one dared to speak a word when the majesty had commanded silence. In that small span of quiescence, Morpheous closed his eyes and prayed to God.

“Let me not see those eyes in despair again.”

“If you are hearing me, then I beg you to bestow your strength in me for the innocent lives that have been destroyed.”

And the moment he opened his eyes, he saw a sword being thrown at him which landed inches away from his foot.

“And that would be your weapon of combat.”

Saying that master Nubeous picked up his sword. The sword had tasted the blood of many. So much so that the color of steel started looking like a tint of crimson. Morpheous knew that it was a match of death. Once inside the fighting ring, you either win or you die. There was no middle ground. But for sake of his clan, he had decided to set his foot in the ring of death.

His sword was blunt and rusty and possessed no strength, but he couldn’t call foul. He just took the name of God and galloped ahead and with all his might as he made his first move.