As expected, weeks passed—
***
{Outside The Projection}
“WEEKS?!”
Someone blurted, his voice barely able to contain the sheer disbelief.
Much of the crowd went loud alongside him, both shocked and confused.
Though this was very much a possibility, one already established by this Ten Commandment before them, they had still found it surprising.
“He’s been waiting there for weeks?!”
Another echoed.
“What about the rest of the war?! We’re skipping on all of it? There’s no way!”
But before their noise could swell any further, Noor, of all people, moved.
Her throne, still suspended high in the air, tilted ever so slightly.
A shadow stretched from beneath it, landing upon all of them.
“Quiet.”
It wasn’t a yell.
It wasn’t even loud.
But it killed the noise completely.
Noor’s veil-covered eyes scanned those beneath her.
“You will not speak. Not while the war is still ongoing.”
***
{Inside The Projection}
—and no sign of the enemy Jinn made itself known.
The siege had dragged on, and the ‘rebels’ inside that outpost were damn near finished.
No supplies, no backup, no nothing. They were starving, running on fumes, and honestly, just surviving at this point was a miracle.
To be fair, the only reason they even lasted this long was because Malik told his men to slow it down.
Hero plays and unnecessary risks were a one-way ticket to deadly punishment.
He wasn’t about to let anyone die just to shave a day or two off the fight.
Though, it wasn’t really a ‘fight’ anymore.
Not even close.
This was just… waiting for the collapse.
Every single day, the soldiers outside pushed in a little more.
Bit by bit, the outpost’s defenses fell apart—first the outer barricades, then the palisades, and now whatever sad excuse for a gate they had.
At first, the rebels fought hard.
Desperation made them vicious.
But that only lasted so long.
Hunger did things to a person.
Now? They barely had the strength to lift their bows.
And today was the end.
Malik leaned against a half-broken wall a good distance away, calmly watching the fall.
The battering ram rolled forward, carried by men who were already celebrating, laughing, eager for the plunder that awaited them inside.
“Any second now…”
One of them muttered, grinning.
“One more hit and—”
A sound like cracking ice filled the air.
“AAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”
Then came the screaming.
From beneath the soldiers, tens of ice spikes had erupted at once, impaling them through the legs, the gut—some straight through the chest.
Blood splattered across the sand, turning it into a twisted, frozen battlefield.
The men lucky enough to survive scrambled backward, joining the rest of the platoon, yelling, and slipping on the frozen limbs of their fellow soldiers.
Malik’s golden eyes narrowed.
“There you are.”
Fire exploded from his feet, the sand beneath him turning to glass in an instant.
He vanished and reappeared atop the outpost’s western wall.
Right in front of the bastard responsible.
The Jinn stood there, cloaked, his hands still raised from weaving that spell.
Whoosh!
He barely had time to register what had happened before Malik’s foot crashed into his chest.
The force of the kick blasted him straight through the walls and outer palisades, sending wood, stone, and ice flying.
The soldiers barely had time to duck before the enemy Jinn went skidding across the sand not so far away from them, causing the very earth to shake.
They were stunned.
Unable to believe that such an attack had come from a human like them.
Malik’s attack was so strong, they nearly heard some sort of boom.
It had to have pulverized that fucker.
But, much to their dismay, when the dust settled, the Jinn was still standing.
It seemed that a plate of ice had formed at the last second over his chest, shattering from the impact but absorbing the worst of it.
All that waiting was for naught… but no matter, Malik wasn’t discouraged.
He landed lightly on the sand, cracking his neck.
And that’s when he felt it.
A biting pain in his right foot.
He glanced down.
A shard of ice jutted out through his boot, piercing straight through the sole.
He gritted his teeth and quickly yanked the shard free, resulting in much of his blood seeping into the sand beneath him.
Ignoring the pain, his eyes snapped back up to the figure before him.
The Jinn no longer wore a cloak.
Instead, his entire body was encased in crystalline ice.
A full suit of armor.
It glowed faintly in the light like living frost.
Malik exhaled slowly.
“Yeah.”
He tossed the bloodied shard aside.
“This’ll take a while.”
With one smooth move, he unsheathed his curved sword, Spine Splitter, and held it in front of his chest.
The white blade flickered for a second, then burst to life.
Flames shot up its length, devouring the steel until it turned a dark, almost black-red.
The fire didn’t flicker or dance—it clung to the blade, eating through it.
Sand kicked up and swirled around the steel as it burned hotter and hotter.
Then, his power suddenly surged.
Even the soldiers some distance away could feel it.
He’d triggered his {Goliath’s Fall}, and damn, it made a difference.
Every muscle and every tendon in his body roared with incredible force.
“Hoooh—!”
With one last move, he placed his left hand on his lower back, bracing himself.
Malik was ready.
This was him at his best.
While he finished his preparations, his opponent had done the same.
His ice armor had been further reinforced, as well as his sword—frost crawling up his arms like veins, thickening and solidifying.
From the looks of it, there was no way anything was getting through that ice to his skin.
But the Jinn himself wasn’t so sure.
It wasn’t the flames.
It wasn’t even the insane power Malik had right now that made him uneasy.
No, it was the curved sword itself.
He’d figured it out already.
Trying to block that thing was asking for a quick death.
His ice, no matter how thick, no matter how hard, wouldn’t stand a chance against its edge.
It would shatter like glass under a hammer.
So he did the only thing he could do.
He shifted his stance, lowering his center of gravity.
Blocking was out. Now? It was all about deflecting.
“Let’s begin.”
