As the duel reached its climax, with Yosue driven back against the wall and Amukelo poised to deliver a decisive combination, the arena was charged with electric anticipation. Spectators leaned forward, breaths held, eyes unblinking, awaiting the final flourish from Amukelo that would end the match. However, just as he was about to strike, a chilling wave of murderous intent washed over him once more, far stronger than before.
Instinctively, Amukelo's focus shifted. His eyes darted across the crowd, searching for the source of the malevolence. In a fleeting moment, he spotted it—an almost invisible distortion, a slight bend in the air that was out of place. While the crowd and Yosue saw nothing, Amukelo's heightened senses caught this subtle anomaly.
Caught off guard by Amukelo's sudden pause and distant gaze, Yosue seized the moment to push off the wall, launching a desperate attack. But Amukelo, still partially attuned to the fight, parried swiftly, his blade slicing through the air and striking Yosue's legs. Yosue crumpled to the ground, his weapon clattering beside him, his breaths sharp and pained.
Without hesitation, Amukelo turned and, with a burst of speed, dashed in the direction of the Shogun. His movement kicked up a huge cloud of dust, obscuring the view momentarily and adding to the chaos. To the onlookers, it appeared as though Amukelo was launching an attack on the Shogun himself. Gasps filled the arena, and the guards, caught by surprise, scrambled towards him, their armor clinking loudly as they moved to protect their leader.
Simultaneously, Erohan, sensing the true threat that Amukelo was reacting to, also surged forward towards the Shogun, his larger form cutting through the crowd with imposing force.
In moments, Amukelo reached the Shogun's platform. As Shogun fell to the ground next to his sit, a stunned silence fell over the arena. The guards, hindered by Erohan's interception, were unable to reach Amukelo in time. To the horrified spectators, it seemed a tragic betrayal was unfolding before their eyes.
From his position on the ground, Yosue, pain clouding his judgment, felt a surge of betrayal and anger. "Amukelo, you traitor..." he shouted, his voice echoing through the hall, laden with disbelief and heartbreak. The man whom he had welcomed as a friend and honored guest, seemed in one devastating moment to have turned against them all. The welcome and camaraderie they had extended appeared shattered.
Amid the chaos, only Eliss and the wise sensei remained calm. Eliss, sensing the danger, but most importantly knowing Amukelo better than anyone, understood the reason for his action. The sensei, meanwhile, though initially poised to intervene, sensed the danger through his deep understanding of ki—or life force—and that Amukelo's actions were not driven by malice towards the Shogun but by a need to protect. Trusting in his judgment and Amukelo's character, he held back, watching the situation unfold with a keen, discerning eye.
In the split second that seemed to stretch into eternity, the grand hall was gripped by a silence broken only by the ominous thud of footsteps and the muffled breaths of a crowd held captive by shock. Then, a deafening clang of metal shattered the quiet, reverberating through the space like a call to arms. Eyes wide with fear and confusion turned toward the source of the sound, finding Amukelo, who had interposed himself between the Shogun and an assailant—a real assassin.
The Shogun, who had closed his eyes in anticipation of a fatal strike, now opened them slowly, only to see the figure of an enemy whose presence no one had anticipated. This new adversary was shrouded in a dark cloak, obscuring any distinguishing features that could reveal their race or origin. The cloak fluttered with every movement, enhancing the menacing aura of the unknown attacker.
Amukelo, recovering from the giant force of the ambush, engaged swiftly with the assassin. Steel met steel as they exchanged rapid blows, the echo of their clashing swords filling the hall. The assassin, leveraging a mix of brute strength and unsettling speed, managed to unbalance Amukelo with a well-placed kick. The seasoned warrior stumbled, and in that brief window of vulnerability, the assassin darted toward the Shogun with lethal intent.
But before the assailant could reach his target, another figure stepped into the fray—Yosue's sensei. The aged master, his movements belying his years, positioned himself in front of the Shogun with a defensive stance that spoke of decades of training. The ensuing clash was intense, the sensei's skills being put to the test as he managed to hold his ground, albeit barely, against the ferocious onslaught. The assassin's power forced the sensei to take a step back, each move a desperate bid to protect the Shogun.
In a final attempt to escape or perhaps to create chaos, the assassin dropped a smoke bomb at his feet. A thick cloud enveloped the area, and a sinister laugh echoed through the hall, chilling the spines of all who heard it. Amukelo, his warrior instincts kicking in, slashed through the smoke in a desperate attempt to hit the assailant. But his blade met nothing but air, and as the laugh tapered into a haunting silence, the smoke slowly cleared to reveal no sign of the attacker.
Quickly regaining his composure, the sensei extended a hand to help the Shogun to his feet, his voice laced with concern. "Are you injured, my lord?" he asked, scanning the Shogun for any sign of harm.
The Shogun, still reeling from the near-death experience, shook his head slightly. "I am okay," he assured, his voice steady but low. However, as the reality of what had just transpired began to sink in, a sudden realization struck him like a bolt of lightning. His face, previously marked by relief, twisted into an expression of sheer panic. "The stone..." he gasped, the words tumbling out in a rush. "He stole the stone."
A wave of confusion swept through the hall. The audience, the warriors, even Yosue's sensei looked at one another, bewildered. What stone? It was a question that hung heavily in the air, its significance clearly paramount to the Shogun. What could possibly scare the Shogun more than the threat to his own life? The atmosphere, already thick with tension, grew dense with the weight of unspoken fears and the gravity of the Shogun's terror-stricken declaration.