CHAPTER 189: CHAPTER 189 - FOR NURI

The courtyard burned. Smoke curled through the air in long ribbons, swallowing the moonlight. The clash of steel and the hiss of gunfire filled the night like the heartbeat of a dying beast.

Kiprop pressed his back against the scorched wall, breathing slow, forcing the pain from his arm into silence. The bullet had only grazed him, but the blood made his grip slick. He tore a strip of cloth from his sleeve and wound it tightly around the wound, pulling until it bit into the flesh.

He flexed his fingers — still steady. Still good enough to kill.

Soares’ boots echoed across the cracked stones. The man moved with deliberate calm, his rifle resting loosely at his side, eyes scanning the smoke.

"Come now," Soares called out. "You are well trained, I’ll grant you that. But running won’t save you. You’re not the first man I’ve hunted, nor will you be the last."

Kiprop stepped into the open, blades in hand. "You’ve never hunted me."

The Portuguese commander smirked. "Confidence. I like that. Let’s see how long it lasts."

He swung his rifle up and fired — the sound splitting the night. Kiprop dove to the side, rolling through the dirt, shards of brick flying around him. He came up fast, closing the distance. Soares struck with the butt of his rifle, heavy and brutal. Kiprop blocked with his dagger, sparks bursting where metal met metal.

"Quick," Soares said, circling. "But still bleeding. Are you sure you don’t want to give up, slave?"

Kiprop said nothing. He lunged, his left dagger slicing through the air — Soares parried it with his rifle, twisting and trying to bring the barrel to bear. Kiprop turned with the motion, his knee driving into the man’s chest. Soares staggered back, laughing breathlessly.

"Good! Very good. You’re trained... disciplined. Not like the savages I’ve crushed before."

Kiprop’s eyes darkened. "Say that again."

Soares smirked, raising the rifle like a staff. "You heard me. I’ve burned villages full of your kind. Men who thought courage could match true strength. They all screamed the same way."

Kiprop struck — a blur of motion — twin blades slashing in arcs. Soares blocked the first, but the second cut across his arm, shallow but clean. The commander hissed, his smile fading.

"Now I see it," Kiprop said coldly. "You hide your fear behind arrogance and cruelty. You will die here today, and your country will not mourn you."

Soares snarled and swung again. The rifle cracked against Kiprop’s shoulder, sending him staggering back. Pain flashed hot and white, but Kiprop’s grip didn’t falter. He turned the motion into a roll, sweeping Soares’ legs from beneath him. The rifle flew from his hands, clattering across the stones.

They collided, fists and blades and grit. The commander grabbed Kiprop’s wounded arm, squeezing until blood seeped through the cloth. Kiprop gritted his teeth, his other hand snapping forward, burying a dagger into Soares’ side.

The man roared and shoved him away, clutching his bleeding ribs. "You’ll pay for that!"

"Already have," Kiprop muttered, raising his blade.

The air between them shimmered with heat and hate.

Then — a gunshot.

Both men turned. Across the courtyard, chaos raged. Mwinyi fought three soldiers at once near the burning stables, his great frame moving with thunderous precision. His axe cleaved through the smoke, catching the firelight with every swing.

"Hold the line!" he bellowed.

Taban fought beside him, two curved blades flashing like silver rain. He ducked low, stabbing upward into a guard’s gut before kicking another into a wall. "The line’s gone, Mwinyi!" he shouted back. "We’re all that’s left on this side! We can’t let them interrupt Kiprop."

Across the compound, Zara and Onyango regrouped, their clothes torn, their faces streaked with blood and ash. They moved like ghosts through the ruins, cutting down the last of the Restorers who dared to stand.

The night was filled with screams.

Kiprop and Soares charged at the same moment.

The rifle swung low — Kiprop leapt over it, driving both blades forward. Soares twisted aside, the edge of one dagger slicing his coat. He caught Kiprop’s shoulder with his elbow, spun, and drove a knee into his gut.

Kiprop stumbled, pain shooting through his ribs — but even in the haze, he moved. A low pivot, a slash. His dagger nicked Soares’ thigh.

"You got lucky." Soares grunted.

Kiprop straightened slowly. "Pray to whatever gods you worship, and hope that they forgive your sins."

He feinted left, then threw his second dagger — not to kill, but to distract. Soares raised his rifle to block it, the blade burying itself into the weapon’s stock. That one instant was all Kiprop needed.

He surged forward, closing the gap. His remaining dagger struck once — twice — cutting across Soares’ chest.

Soares fell to one knee, gasping, his rifle slipping from his grip. He stared up at Kiprop, disbelief in his eyes.

"You... you think killing me changes anything?" he rasped. "You’re just another man. Another soldier that will be forgotten on the battlefield when we finally march on your lands."

Kiprop pressed his blade to the man’s throat, breathing hard. "Then remember it. I’m Kiprop of Nuri. And you’ll never haunt this land again."

He drove the blade in cleanly, ending it.

Silence settled, broken only by the crackle of fire and the distant cries of dying men. Kiprop stood over the body, his chest heaving. The smell of gunpowder and blood hung thick in the air.

When he finally looked up, he saw the others , Zara, Onyango, Taban, Mwinyi and all the remaining shadows emerging through the smoke. All were battered, bloodied, exhausted.

Zara met his eyes. "Is it done?"

Kiprop nodded once. "It’s done."

They stood together amid the ruins of Soares’ compound. The fires burned low now, and the night was quiet again.

But the cost was written across their faces — every breath labored, every muscle trembling. They had won, but victory had taken everything.

And in that silence, Zara whispered what they all felt:

"For Nuri."

The others echoed weakly, voices hoarse, hearts still burning.

"For Nuri."

The flames behind them died slowly, leaving only the glow of ash and the ghosts of the fallen.