After the last battle against the Kipchak riders, as the sun began to set and the battlefield lay still, Wolfram turned to Tanrıverdi, his trusted companion and warrior. Blood still stained their weapons, and the air hung thick with the scent of death. The ground beneath them was littered with bodies, but Wolfram's mind was already on the next step—how to send a message to those who would dare betray their kin.
Wolfram, his face hardened with the weight of command, asked, "Tanrıverdi, in your culture, how would you punish those who betray their kin?"
Tanrıverdi, a man of tradition and fierce loyalty, looked over the battlefield, his eyes dark and thoughtful. "There is an old way," he said slowly, his voice carrying the weight of centuries of tradition. "A way that not only punishes the traitors but ensures that their shame is known far and wide."
Wolfram tilted his head, intrigued by the grim tone in his companion's voice. "Tell me."
Tanrıverdi gestured toward the fallen Kipchak riders, their bodies strewn across the field. "In the lands of my ancestors, when betrayal was committed, we would take the skulls of the fallen and build a pyramid—small, yet unmistakable. The bones of those who turned against their kin would be stacked high for all to see, a testament to their treachery. Their banners would be draped over this pyramid, so that anyone passing by would know who had fallen, and why."
Wolfram's eyes darkened, and a cold smile touched his lips. "A fitting end for those who thought they could cross us."
Without hesitation, Wolfram ordered the surviving soldiers to gather the skulls of the Kipchak riders. Under the guidance of Tanrıverdi, they began the grim task of constructing the pyramid. One by one, the skulls were placed atop each other, forming a grotesque monument to the price of betrayal.
As the last skull was set in place, Tanrıverdi and Wolfram planted the enemy banners at the base of the pyramid, letting the bloodied flags flutter in the wind. The message was clear: this was the fate of those who betrayed their kin, their bones left to the elements, their honor shattered for all to see.
Wolfram stood back, his cold eyes surveying the grim spectacle. "Let this be a warning," he said, his voice hard. "To all who think they can slay thier kin. This is the best I can do to maintain some sorf of order here. My last task for Timurtaş and these lands"
The pyramid of skulls stood tall as the sun sank below the horizon, casting long shadows over the battlefield. It would remain, a chilling monument to the fallen riders and a message to any who would dare challenge Turk-il's authority again.