The air was thick with the scent of blood and sweat. The echoes of Ochieng's victory still roared across the city, but beneath the surface, an unseen force stirred.
In a dimly lit chamber deep within the city, figures clad in dark robes knelt before a towering throne. Their leader, a man with eyes like burning embers, sat in silence, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the armrest.
"The boy has proven himself," one of the figures murmured.
The leader's lips curled into a smirk. "That means nothing."
Another figure spoke. "He defeated Omondi. Even Nia surrendered."
Silence.
Then, the leader let out a low chuckle.
"And yet… he is still human."
The flames in the torches flickered, casting eerie shadows on the stone walls.
"The real trial has not yet begun."
His fingers stopped tapping.
"Summon the Phantom Blades."
---
Ochieng sat alone in his chamber, his wounds bandaged, his muscles aching from the battle. He had won, but the weight of the throne had never felt heavier.
A soft knock at the door broke his thoughts.
"Come in."
The door creaked open, revealing Nia. She stepped inside with quiet grace, her silver robes flowing behind her like mist.
"You should rest," she said.
Ochieng smirked. "Rest? I just won my throne. Now the real battle begins."
Nia's gaze was unreadable. "You don't trust the council."
"No," Ochieng admitted. "They smile in front of me, but their daggers are already aimed at my back."
Nia nodded. "Then you should know… they are not the only ones."
Ochieng frowned. "What do you mean?"
She hesitated for a moment before stepping closer. "The Phantom Blades have been summoned."
His blood ran cold.
The Phantom Blades—legendary assassins who never failed their mission.
If they had been called…
Someone wanted him dead.
---
Night fell over the city, casting long shadows over the rooftops. Ochieng stood alone on the palace balcony, staring out at the endless lights flickering below.
Then—a shift in the wind.
He turned sharply.
Nothing.
But his instincts screamed at him.
A whisper of movement. A glint of steel.
He ducked—just in time.
A dagger sliced through the air where his neck had been.
Ochieng rolled forward, dodging another attack. He turned, his eyes narrowing at the figures before him.
Three assassins, clad in black, their faces hidden behind silver masks.
The Phantom Blades had arrived.
The lead assassin tilted his head. "You're fast."
Ochieng's muscles tensed.
"But not fast enough."
They vanished.
Ochieng barely had time to react before pain exploded across his side.
A blade cut into his ribs.
Another struck his shoulder.
Blood dripped onto the stone floor.
They were too fast.
Ochieng's vision blurred. He could barely track their movements.
Another strike—but this time, he caught it.
His hand shot out, grabbing the assassin's wrist.
For the first time, the killer hesitated.
Ochieng's grip tightened.
Then—he moved.
A sharp twist. A sickening crack.
The assassin crumpled to the ground.
The remaining two hesitated.
Ochieng wiped the blood from his mouth and smirked. "What's wrong? Afraid?"
They didn't answer. Instead—they attacked.
But this time, Ochieng was ready.
His movements became a blur, his strikes precise. One assassin fell.
Then the last.
Silence.
Ochieng exhaled sharply, stepping back. His body was screaming in pain, but he remained standing.
The Phantom Blades had failed.
And somewhere in the city, their master would not be pleased.
---
Deep in the hidden chamber, the leader of the assassins sat in silence, listening to the report.
"He killed them?"
The messenger nodded. "All three."
A slow smile spread across the leader's lips.
"This boy… he is interesting."
He leaned forward, eyes gleaming with something between curiosity and amusement.
"Let's see how far he can go."
---
Ochieng sat on the edge of his bed, pressing a cloth to his wounds. His mind was racing. Who had sent the Phantom Blades?
The answer seemed obvious—the council.
But something about it didn't feel right.
A knock at his door startled him.
"Who is it?"
"It's me," a familiar voice answered.
Nia.
He opened the door. She stepped inside, her expression serious.
"You killed them," she said.
"I had no choice."
She nodded. "Then you need to leave."
Ochieng frowned. "What?"
"They won't stop," she said. "You humiliated them. They will keep coming. And next time… it won't just be assassins."
Ochieng stared at her.
Nia lowered her voice. "There's a bounty on your head."
Ochieng felt a strange sense of amusement. "How much am I worth?"
She didn't smile. "Enough to turn the entire city against you."
He let out a slow breath.
"So what do you suggest?"
She hesitated. Then—she pulled out a silver pendant and placed it in his hand.
"There is a place beyond the city," she whispered. "A place where warriors are trained. If you want to survive… you need to get stronger."
Ochieng looked down at the pendant. It was old, worn, yet strangely familiar.
"What is this?"
Nia stepped back.
"A key."
Ochieng's grip tightened around the pendant.
He didn't know where this would lead him.
But one thing was clear.
This was only the beginning.
---