Amukelo's sword cut through the air as he rushed toward the soldier. The clash of metal on metal reverberated through the dark corridor, and the force of the collision sent the soldier stumbling back. The soldier's eyes widened in shock—he had clearly underestimated the strength of his opponent. Amukelo's face was a mask of cold fury, every muscle in his body tensed with the intent to destroy the man before him.
The girl tied to the post shifted her gaze, the dullness in her eyes giving way to a glimmer of awareness as she tried to process what was happening. But her expression, though slightly more alert, remained frozen in that deadened state—a look of someone who had lost faith for his future.
Amukelo, ready to finish the soldier, lunged forward, aiming to end the fight swiftly. But as he brought his sword down, a gust of wind sliced through the air and blocked his path, forcing him to jump back. Amukelo's eyes darted to the side and landed on the monk, who had his hands raised, fingers twisted in a gesture of spellcasting. The monk smirked, a look of smug superiority on his face as he conjured another gust of wind between them.
Without missing a beat, Amukelo grabbed a small dagger from his belt and hurled it at the monk. But just as it was about to strike its target, the monk formed a wall of wind. The dagger clattered harmlessly to the ground, deflected by the spell.
The soldier, taking advantage of the moment, charged back at Amukelo. Amukelo's focus shifted as he blocked the soldier's incoming slash, metal grinding against metal, the power of the strike pushing the soldier back once more. But again, the monk's magic interfered.
After some time Holag finally arrived at the entrance of the corridor, his face pale with fear and confusion. He gaped at the scene before him—the two attackers, the bound girl, and Amukelo locked in a battle.
Holag's eyes darted nervously between the combatants as he blurted out, "What's happening!?" His voice wavered, edged with panic.
Amukelo didn't look back as he sidestepped another attack and shouted, "Stay away, you'll die in an instant!" He yelled at Holag. The soldier's blade came at him again, but Amukelo parried effortlessly, his movements smooth and calculated. The soldier was panting, struggling to keep up with the relentless assault, but Amukelo remained calm and controlled.
As the soldier's face contorted with rage, he yelled, "What can you do alone? Even if you're stronger than me, you won't win against both of us!" He swung his sword with renewed desperation, trying to cut Amukelo down.
The monk, standing at a distance, began weaving his hands together to cast another spell, the air around his fingers shimmering as the magic formed.
Amukelo saw his opportunity. He feigned a forward thrust toward the soldier, drawing the monk's attention. The monk's eyes narrowed as he prepared to cast a gust of wind to throw Amukelo back, but Amukelo, anticipating the spell, whipped his hand around and threw another dagger at the monk.
The blade flew straight and the monk caught in the middle of his incantation, had no time to react. The dagger pierced his chest, sinking deep into his heart. The monk let out a strangled gasp and crumpled to the ground lifelessly.
Seeing his comrade fall so suddenly, the soldier hesitated, panic flashing across his face. Amukelo seized the moment, his blade moving with lightning speed. In one fluid arc, he cut through the soldier's neck, severing his head from his body. His body collapsing like a puppet with its strings cut.
The girl's eyes, dull just moments ago, now widened in astonishment. She watched in silence, her breathing rapid but now mixed with an uncertain hope. The effortlessness with which Amukelo dispatched her captors seemed almost unreal to her. He wasn't even out of breath. The lifeless forms of the monk and soldier lay at his feet, and the girl blinked, trying to comprehend that she was now safe.
Amukelo looked down at the bodies with disgust. He quickly sheathed his sword and approached the girl. He crouched down and fumbled for the keys hanging from the dead soldier's belt. With a swift motion, he unlocked the cuffs holding the girl's wrists.
The shackles clattered to the ground, and she immediately fell to her knees, her body weak from exhaustion and pain. She looked up at Amukelo, with hopeful look.
"Are you okay?" Amukelo asked, his voice calm but tinged with concern. She tried to respond but only let out a muffled sound. The gag was still tied tightly around her mouth.
Realizing this, Amukelo said softly, "Oh right, I'm sorry," and pulled out his dagger once again. He carefully slipped the blade under the fabric and cut it away, making sure not to hurt her.
As the cloth fell Amukelo squatted down to her level, meeting her eyes with a warm but serious expression, trying to steady her with his presence. "Are you okay?" he asked gently, searching her face for any signs of distress.
Her eyes, still wide with the shock of the rescue, flickered with confusion and fear. She stammered, "Who... who are you?"
Amukelo offered a small, reassuring smile. "I'm Amukelo," he replied, his voice firm but kind. "We're here to rescue you."
Then he paused and glanced off to the side, muttering under his breath with a tinge of sarcasm, "Well... unintentionally, but here we are." He had not come to this settlement expecting to save anyone, yet here he was.
A glimmer of hope sparked in the girl's mismatched eyes. Her voice quivered as she spoke, trying to wrap her mind around what had just happened. "Tha... Thank you... My name is Eliss..."
Amukelo nodded at her introduction and leaned in closer, asking again with more urgency in his voice, "Are you okay? Did they... do anything disgusting to you?" There was a protective anger in his eyes as he waited for her response.
Eliss quickly shook her head, her loose blonde hair cascading around her face. "No," she whispered, "but... they were about to..."
Amukelo let out a deep, relieved sigh. "Uh... I'm happy I didn't come later." His voice low.
But then Amukelo stood up, his posture straightening as he refocused on the task at hand. "But we weren't so lucky with the others..." he muttered darkly. He could still see the blank, hollow faces of the women he'd passed earlier, their hope beaten out of them, their spirits crushed.
Turning to Holag, who had finally caught his breath and was looking at the situation with a mixture of fear and bewilderment, Amukelo's voice hardened. "Holag, let's free the others." He lowered his voice to a grim whisper, a flicker of dread in his eyes. "I just hope they still have the will to live…"
Holag nodded nervously, not quite meeting Amukelo's gaze. They both turned toward the corridor, ready to go back and free the others. Amukelo turned once more to Eliss, his tone gentle again. "Can you walk?"
Eliss nodded weakly, gathering her strength as she tried to rise. Amukelo offered her a hand to steady herself, and she managed to stand on her own, though shakily. Her eyes showed a mix of fear and determination.
"Good," Amukelo said. Then he addressed Holag with a commanding voice, "We have no time to waste, let's go."
They made their way back down the corridor. With haste, they began unlocking each of the cells. One by one, women, girls, and even children were released from their bonds. The expressions on their faces varied—some lit up with a glimmer of hope at the sight of freedom, while others remained vacant, as if the light in their eyes had been extinguished long ago. Some didn't seem to recognize their own release, sitting still even as their shackles fell to the ground.
Amukelo's heart ached seeing these hollow stares, but there was no time to dwell on it now. He scanned each cell quickly, searching for any materials that could offer even a semblance of comfort or modesty. He found some straw bedding and tattered blankets in a few of the cells, and though they were worn and dirty, they were better than nothing.
Amukelo carefully cut the blankets into smaller pieces with his dagger and handed them out to the freed captives as makeshift coverings. Some of the girls clutched the fabric to their chests as if it were a lifeline, while others simply let it hang around their shoulders, unable to muster the strength to care.
Eliss followed close behind Amukelo, her eyes darting nervously at every new face they freed. Though she was weak, she tried to help some of the girls cover themselves with the blanket scraps, her hands shaking slightly as she worked.
When they had finally opened all the cells, releasing everyone who had been held prisoner in the dark depths of the church, they regrouped at the base of the stairwell.
Amukelo stepped to the front of the group, his eyes sweeping over the frightened, bewildered faces. He kept his voice low, barely above a whisper, but steady and resolute, hoping it would inspire them to follow him.
"Listen," he began, his voice carrying the weight of his promise. "Today is the day you will be free. But for that to happen, you must do exactly as I say. If you do that—if you trust me—I will make sure that every one of you gets out of here safely. Do you understand?"
Some nodded, their faces lighting up with determination, but others remained blank, their eyes unfocused and unresponsive. The hopelessness on those faces sent a shiver through Amukelo's heart, but he knew he couldn't stop to comfort them.
Amukelo's gaze swept over them once more. "We're going to get out of here," he whispered fiercely, "and I'm not going to leave a single one of you behind."