Chapter 109: I Swear This Oath

Neither Malik nor Zayna could believe what they were seeing.

But Malik, more than Zayna, felt the disbelief settle deep in his bones.

Were they impersonating him to increase morale among the soldiers? To keep them loyal? Really?

Or had these bastards finally gone out of their minds?

Were they trying to cause an internal war, seeing that Malik’s efforts were fully focused on driving out the invaders?

"My people..."

The false Sultan’s voice boomed across the courtyard, amplified by some trick of Rukh.

"It is I, your Sultan.

His arms were spread wide, his golden hair catching the torchlight, his golden eyes gleaming with false sincerity.

"And I have personally come here to support you."

Indeed, that seemed to be the case.

The impostor was rallying the troops, giving them a figurehead, a reason to fight.

"Your traitorous kings have been dealt with, and you, who abided by the law and rose to lead... I commend."

Of all things Malik went through, this easily angered him the fastest.

Yes, even more than IT with IT’s stunt.

That was an enemy, and his enemies usually went to such lows.

It was expected.

But this... this... from his own?!

Malik felt like going up there and tearing the impersonator’s mouth off.

"Though I may never admit this publicly, the people I rule aren’t the best of thinkers. They don’t know any better. We must lead them, even with a fist."

The crowd erupted in response.

Men pounded their fists against their chests while the women loudly cheered.

’I would never say anything like that, you idiots.’

Malik was exasperated, watching the crowd lap up the lies, drinking the poison with eager throats!

Indeed, these people were the pot calling the kettle black.

They thought themselves loyalists, the defenders of the sultanate, the righteous soldiers fighting against the rebels who had been cast out.

But they were the ones who had unrightfully seized power after the king’s death.

They were the ones who had filled the vacuum with violence and fear. Even those with a sane mind among them were tricked.

After all, a good deceiver only needed a lie that most wanted to believe.

It was this want—this desperate, hungry need for validation—that made them ignore all logical and emotional wrongdoings.

They would have loved for Malik, their Sultan, to support them.

So even if it did not make any sense for him to be here, even if his words did not sound like anything he would say, the soldiers believed.

’They’re lost.’

There was no saving them.

These soldiers were willingly deluding themselves.

They had chosen to believe the lie because the truth was too painful to bear, going against everything they wished.

A truth that showed them not to be heroes defending the sultanate, but to be just another faction of oppressors, no different from the traitors who had come before.

Malik did not like the thought of killing his own people. But it seemed there was no other way out of this.

He sighed for the umpteenth time, the sound lost in the cheering crowd.

Finally remembering that he had a companion, he glanced at Zayna.

The rebel was still stuck looking at the imposter, listening to the words that Malik had ignored to save his own sanity.

They were affecting her.

He reached out and shook her shoulder.

"Ah!"

She flinched, her head snapping towards him.

"Sorry. I... this..."

Malik shook his head.

"It’s not him, you know that."

Zayna nodded, but her eyes were still troubled.

"Yes, but..."

She did not finish the sentence.

Instead, she turned around and squeezed out of the crowd, pushing through the press of bodies.

Zayna could not take this.

Her worldview had been shaken.

Perhaps she had once thought that her oppressors did what they did knowing that they were oppressors. That they were evil, and they knew they were evil, and they simply did not care.

But now... now she knew that her oppressors thought themselves to be true, legitimate, and correct.

She felt lost.

How could a people act like they were so in the right when they were so in the wrong?

How could they look at their own reflection and see a hero staring back?

How could they be so utterly deluded?

Zayna did not know how to feel, facing an enemy of strong belief rather than simple evil.

She was too kind-hearted for this.

Malik, however, despite being the supposed hero, was not.

Though he did not like killing his own, it stopped at that.

He would gladly kill anyone who lowered the chances of his family’s survival.

So he followed Zayna out of the crowd with unhurried steps and a return to calm.

The walk back to the settlement was quiet.

Zayna had her eyes fixed on the ground, never once looking up.

She simply walked, one foot in front of the other, lost in her own thoughts.

Malik remained beside her, matching her pace, ensuring that she didn’t fall.

When they reached the cava, they saw Rafa and the others waiting for them in the meeting tent.

The maps were still spread across the table, but the wooden tokens were removed, anticipating an update.

Without any pleasantries, Malik stepped to the table and began to explain what they had seen.

He described the outpost’s layout, the buildings, the barracks, and the gates. He pointed out the patrol routes, the guard rotations, and the weak points in their defenses.

Malik noted the number of soldiers, the positions of the archers, and the location of the supply depots.

He did so incredibly well that everyone, especially Rafa, watched him with growing surprise.

Most of what Malik said, they already knew.

Their own scouts had gathered similar intelligence over the past weeks.

But there were also things they had failed to notice, important things that gave them a great advantage.

"You seem used to insurgency operations."

Malik smiled at Rafa, saying nothing.

’You wouldn’t know the half of it.’

He had fought in a dozen insurgencies in both his lives, the rebel and the loyalist, the oppressor and the oppressed.

He had learned the rhythms of irregular warfare the hard way, through blood, failure, and the bodies of friends who had not made it out.

But Rafa did not need to know that.

Malik finished his briefing and stepped back from the table.

"Here is my plan. I will act as a singular attack force and rush the south gate alone."

Those in the tent quickly fell silent.

"The rest of you will attack from above and within while the enemy is too busy with me."

He pointed at the hills on the map, at the narrow paths that led into the outpost.

"Position your archers here and here. Have your fighters ready to move through these alleys the moment the gate falls."

Rafa’s eyebrows rose.

"You want us to attack the outpost with one man as our vanguard?"

"I want you to attack the outpost with me as your vanguard."

Malik corrected, and Rafa shook his head.

"That’s suicide. Even if you’re as strong as you claim or seem, one man cannot hold the attention of an entire garrison."

That earned a smile from the Sultan.

"One man can, if that man is enough of a threat."

"..."

Rafa stared at him.

"..."

Zayna stared at him.

"..."

The others stared at him.

"..."

He stared back at them.

Perhaps he found this hilarious.

Eventually, though, Rafa found his words.

"This is overconfidence. We cannot risk our entire operation on a stranger’s boast."

Malik’s golden eyes glowed.

"I swear this Oath. I can do it."

The words hung heavy in the air, stunning them.

An Oath sworn on Runes could not be broken, at least not without consequence.

It was a promise written in the fabric of his Soul, binding him to his word.

Rafa’s understood exactly what Malik was offering.

"If you fail but survive, then..."

His words slowed until he stopped.

"Then I’ll die anyway, and you will have lost nothing but a stranger who offered to help."

Rafa was silent for a long moment, then looked at Zayna.

"I..."

Barely getting out of her thoughts, she nodded.

"You can trust him."

"Very well."

Rafa let out a sigh.

"We will follow your plan, Stranger."

Without replying, Malik simply turned back to the map and began to mark the final positions.

The attack would begin at dawn, and he needed them prepared.

After all, he swore an Oath.