CHAPTER 12 — JUDGMENT OF WARRIOR (PART 3)
A horrifying, suffocating silence had descended upon the valley—a stillness so absolute and heavy that it was entirely impossible to capture in mere words.
Until just moments ago, this very space was a battleground of catastrophic proportions, where explosive fire, tearing lightning, and cursed black chains were violently clashing against one another.
Now, there was nothing left but the bitter taste of ash in the air, the sickening stench of burnt blood, and a biting, deathly chill.
Even the towering mountains that surrounded the valley, which had silently witnessed this epic clash, seemed to have fallen completely numb in a state of profound shock.
Standing near the jagged edge of the massive crater, where the disrupted earth was still smoldering from the heat of the celestial blast, was Jabar.
Because his mystic locket had shattered, his physical body had drastically withered into that of a frail, 80-year-old man, yet his malice remained untouched.
The dark, suffocating aura of the abyss still swirled around his fragile frame like a thick, toxic black smoke.
Looking down into the crater at the fallen forms of Maazin and Aslam with his glowing red eyes, a cold, lethal smile slowly crept across his heavily wrinkled face.
"This was always destined to be the outcome..."
Jabar's voice echoed through the eerie silence, carrying a strange, unsettling mixture of absolute arrogance and deep exhaustion.
"These fragile human emotions...
they are ultimately their greatest disease. Come along,
Abu... the spectacle here has reached its end."
Jabar raised his dark wand and swept it through the air.
With a horrifying screech that sounded like the tearing of reality itself, a massive, pitch-black portal ripped open in the fabric of space.
Within that swirling vortex of nothingness, the towering, shadow-drenched walls of the Arabic Dark Castle could be seen—a domain of eternal darkness.
Just as Jabar stepped into the void of the portal, Abu Al-Salasil suddenly stopped in his tracks.
The colossal demon of chains, exhaling thick black smoke from his blind eyes, slowly turned his heavy neck backward.
He looked down into the smoldering crater, his gaze locking onto Maazin's lifeless body.
For the first time since his dark existence began, there was no bubbling rage or malice within the emotionless devil. Instead, there was a strange, undeniable tranquility—a silent salute.
"For the first time..."
Abu's heavy, iron-grinding voice echoed through the devastated valley.
"A mere human has managed to push me this far.
It was an excellent fight.
Sleep peacefully, you lionhearted warrior."
And with those final, chilling words of respect, Abu Al-Salasil stepped into the dark portal.
But Huba Huba was incredibly cowardly and cunning.
The moment he saw Jabar and Abu entering the portal, and Aslam advancing from below while screaming in a terrifying rage, that flying skull quietly fled to save his own life, slipping right into that same dark portal towards the Arabic Dark Castle!
But Huba Huba was incredibly cowardly and cunning.
The moment he saw Jabar and Abu entering the portal, and Aslam advancing from below while screaming in a terrifying rage, that flying skull quietly fled to save his own life, slipping right into that same dark portal towards the Arabic Dark Castle!
The spatial tear then snapped shut with a sharp, explosive sound, leaving the valley entirely alone to its absolute, devastating solitude.
"COME BACK!!!"
A raw, blood-curdling scream tore from Aslam's throat—a scream so filled with sheer agony that it physically shook the remaining storm clouds in the heavens.
The Thunder Executioner, the legendary warrior whose mere name sent shivers down the spines of devils, was now lying helplessly in the dirt, drenched in his own blood.
His right arm had been brutally ripped from his body, and thick, dark blood was bleeding continuously from the severed stump, pooling into the soil beneath him.
His ribs, entirely shattered by Abu's terrifying spiked kick, were piercing directly into his lungs with every slight movement.
Even taking a single breath was no less than pure, unadulterated torture.
Yet, Aslam was entirely numb to the physical destruction of his body.
Tears streamed endlessly from his eyes like a torrential storm, washing away the dirt and ash on his face.
His blurry, desperate gaze was locked solely on the dead center of the crater ahead, where Maazin's body had collapsed after the smoke finally cleared.
"COWARDS!!!"
Aslam roared upward at the unforgiving sky, his vocal cords tearing with grief and uncontainable fury.
"You ran away?!
If you have any courage left,
come face me!
Why didn't you kill me instead of him, you bastards?!
Why did you leave me alive?!"
Aslam's body gave out, and he collapsed heavily onto his knees.
There was absolutely no strength left in his legs to stand. But he refused to stay down.
Using only his solitary left hand and the drag of his bloody knees, he began to crawl through the jagged dirt.
Sharp rocks and broken shards of scorched iron scraped mercilessly against his bare legs and chest, peeling his skin away, but he did not stop.
He couldn't stop.
"Maazin...
my brother..."
Aslam wept, dragging his broken body forward as his breaths broke into violent, shuddering gasps.
His trailing blood drew a long, tragic path in the dirt behind him.
"I will not leave a single one of you alive...
I will burn you all to ashes!"
Covered head-to-toe in mud, ash, and his own blood, Aslam finally reached the dead center of the crater.
Maazin was lying flat on his back, staring up at the dark sky.
His royal red armor, which had always stood as a pristine symbol of absolute command and unwavering pride, was now brutally shattered and shredded to pieces.
But the sight that made Aslam's mind go completely numb, freezing the blood in his veins, was Maazin's chest.
From the sheer concentrated force of Abu's dark attack, a clean, see-through hole had been pierced right through the dead center of Maazin's stomach and chest.
The heart, the soul core, the vital energy—everything there was simply gone.
Aslam's entire massive frame began to tremble violently.
He reached out with his solitary, blood-soaked left hand and desperately placed it over Maazin's shredded chest.
His fingers pressed against the wound, as if he were foolishly trying to stop his brother's fleeing life force with his bare, trembling hands.
"Maazin..."
Aslam's voice shook terribly, reduced to a desperate, broken whisper.
"Brother...
can you hear me?
Keep your eyes open.
I am here now."
The brilliant golden light in Maazin's half-open eyes was rapidly fading into a dull, lifeless grey.
His once-proud face was completely covered in dark dirt and blood.
His ruined chest was rising and falling incredibly slowly, fighting a massive, agonizing struggle just to take in a sliver of air.
Through his fading, darkening vision, he looked up at Aslam.
Maazin's pale lips moved slightly.
His voice was devastatingly weak, sounding like a fragile whisper of wind.
"Aslam...
my time is running out...
I can barely hear what you are saying...
everything is going completely blurry."
"Stop talking nonsense!"
Aslam began to sob uncontrollably, crying like an orphaned child.
His tears dripped continuously, falling directly onto Maazin's dirt-stained face.
"Nothing has happened to you!
Come on, get up!
We have to go back together!"
Despite the insurmountable agony tearing through his body, a faint, deeply composed smile graced Maazin's lips.
"Aslam...
promise me...
that next time, you will not lose to that devil."
"Yes!
Yes, I swear
I will kill those bastards!"
Aslam sobbed bitterly, his chest heaving with sorrow.
"But you have to promise me you will stay right here with me!
We will kill them together!
Why are you leaving me alone?!"
Maazin's breath began to hitch, rattling in his broken chest.
He gathered every last remaining ounce of his fading strength and spoke,
"Aslam...
I have one final wish."
Weeping, Aslam frantically nodded his head, willing to give up his own soul if asked.
"Tell me, brother...
what is your wish?
I will do whatever you say,
just please don't close your eyes!"
Maazin gave no immediate answer; his calm, fading eyes just kept looking deeply into Aslam's soul.
That profound, heavy silence pierced deeper into Aslam's heart than any blade ever could.
"Why are you talking like this, man..."
Aslam's heart was completely and utterly shattered.
He wept with a sorrow that knew no bounds.
"You... you are breaking your promise to stay with me,
Maazin...
you promised we would always stand together..."
And at that exact, heartbreaking moment, a vivid flashback of their childhood suddenly flooded Aslam's mind—the golden days when they both used to endure mountain-like training in the vast, open fields.
*Old Memories:*
*Under the unforgiving, scorching heat of the blazing sun, the two 14-15-year-old boys were completely drenched in their own sweat. 20,000 continuous push-ups.
Running for miles while carrying heavy, jagged boulders on their small shoulders.
They weren't ordinary kids; they were breaking their bodies day after day with a stubborn, fiery resolve to eradicate the world's darkness.*
*Whenever young Aslam's leg muscles gave out from sheer exhaustion and he collapsed face-first into the dirt, wanting to just lie there and surrender, a hand would always appear in front of his face. Maazin's hand.*
*"What happened, Aslam? Did you give up this easily?"
The 15-year-old Maazin had taunted while casually adjusting his glasses—a taunt that carried no malice, only profound brotherly love and motivation.
"What a huge idiot you are."*
*"You shut up!"
Young Aslam would angrily brush the dirt off his knees, grab his brother's hand, and forcefully pull himself up.
"I am much stronger than you, understand?!
I will tear out every evil in this world all by myself!"*
*"Yeah brother, I admit it,"
Maazin laughed, his eyes shining with pride.
"But the training is still left.
We cannot stop, Aslam.
No matter what happens,
we cannot accept defeat."*
*That same unyielding fire burned brightly in Aslam's innocent eyes.
"I will never give up, Maazin.
And I will never let you give up either."*
*Back in the Present:*
"You were the one who said it!"
Aslam screamed loudly, the memory tearing his soul to shreds.
The sound of his weeping in the silent valley was deeply agonizing.
"You were the one who said we wouldn't give up!
Then why did you step in front of that attack today?!
Why did you save me?!
My life had absolutely no value compared to yours, Maazin!"
Maazin's pale, blood-stained lips moved faintly.
Taking his final, labored breaths, he spoke in a voice of absolute tranquility,
"Your life had value,
Aslam...
that's exactly why I saved you.
Now I have very little breath left, brother...
listen to me carefully."
Maazin slowly shifted his blurring vision toward the bloody stump of Aslam's severed right arm.
"Aslam..."
Maazin spoke haltingly, every word costing him immense effort,
"My right arm...
I want you to have it severed."
Aslam's breath completely stopped for a second.
His grief-stricken mind couldn't comprehend what Maazin was suggesting.
"Tell Zahira..."
Maazin forced his voice to be as clear as possible,
"To use her divine healing magic...
and attach this arm of mine...
directly to your severed stump."
The moment the horrifying reality of those words hit Aslam, his grief twisted into a state of sheer madness and desperate anger.
"What kind of nonsense are you talking?!"
Aslam screamed through his cascading tears.
He gripped Maazin's unbroken shoulder lightly, shaking him.
"Have you gone completely mad?!
I don't want your arm,
I want you!
You will stay alive,
do you understand me?!
If my arm is gone,
let it be gone,
I will fight the rest of my life with one arm!
But you are going nowhere!"
There was a strange, deathly peace in Maazin's eyes now—the peace of a true warrior who had accepted his end.
"My time is over, Aslam.
You do not have your right arm...
without me by your side,
you will be left entirely alone in the brutal battles to come.
This arm of mine, attached to your body,
will not let you stop.
It will make sure you keep moving forward."
Maazin's voice had grown even softer now, fading like the last embers of a fire.
"And...
my Scimitar sword...
give it to someone who has unyielding fire in their chest.
Someone who never bows down to anyone,
just like me."
"Why are you saying these things?!"
Aslam couldn't stop his violent tears.
"I don't have more courage than you!
How will I ever face these devils alone, man?!
I need you by my side!"
Maazin looked at Aslam one last time.
On his blood-stained, dirt-covered face, there was now a genuine, pure, and breathtaking smile.
He gathered his absolute last remaining drop of life force and spoke with the majestic composure of a commander:
"Our whole lives...
we fought together.
We never let anyone,
not even the gods,
think we were weak.
To this very day,
we never bowed our heads to anyone..."
Even in the face of death,
there was a magnificent,
unbreakable pride in Maazin's voice.
"But today...
is our real test, Aslam.
We have to prove that we are not the ones who sit and cry...
we are the ones who force our enemies to see their true place.
We never gave up in life...
and we will not accept defeat even in the face of death."
Aslam could only watch him in devastating silence, his tears falling continuously like rain onto Maazin's ruined chest.
"Aslam..."
Maazin's eyes were slowly, inevitably fluttering shut now.
"Swear an oath to me.
After today...
you will not leave a single devil,
a single evildoer alive on this earth."
Weeping bitterly, Aslam quickly and desperately nodded his head, sealing the oath with his tears.
Maazin's throat had gone completely dry.
In his final, fading breaths, he took the name of the one person he had kept safely hidden from the world his entire life.
"And yes...
tell Noor Jahan...
that I couldn't fulfill my promise to her.
Tell her...
that I truly...
loved her very much."
A single, final tear escaped Maazin's dirt-stained eye, rolling slowly down his pale cheek.
"Tell the rest of my friends too...
Haibat, Raziq, Zahira, Tarek, Layla...
take care of all of them for me. And tell Master Ridwan...
that his warrior has finally returned to God."
Maazin's voice dissolved completely into the cold air.
His chest, which had been moving in a painful, agonizing rhythm for so long, suddenly stopped completely.
His breath ceased.
But even in death, he kept one ultimate thing intact.
His head did not bow, and that faint, proud smile on his lips remained exactly as it was.
His hands fell softly into the dirt.
His eyes were open, but now they held only the vast, empty silence of death.
He was completely, eternally still.
"Maazin?"
Aslam called out softly, his voice trembling so violently he could barely speak.
No answer came.
"Maazin...
get up, brother.
It's enough now."
Aslam shook his brother's shoulder slightly with his only left arm.
But Maazin's lifeless body merely shifted against the dirt.
A true friend, a legend, and a brother...
had departed from this world forever.
"NOOOOOOO!!!!"
The final scream that tore from Aslam's chest was so horrifying, so thoroughly soaked in absolute despair, that the surrounding cliffs echoed with its tragic weight.
That scream didn't belong to a mere human, but to a soul whose other half had just died forever.
Aslam collapsed into the dirt, rested his forehead against Maazin's lifeless chest, and began to sob bitterly like an orphaned child who had lost everything.
That night in the ruined valley...
even the deafening sound of the sky's lightning could not drown out the sound of Aslam's weeping.
Aslam was left completely alone, left only with his brother's final words and the heavy, eternal burden of his severed arm.
END OF CHAPTER 12