Alahamid ran and stumbled a couple of times. But he kept on his course, breathing heavily. Out of the chaos he heard Marag called for his name. But he knew it was too late to save the man. The spear on the young Magalos' gut made sure of it. Marag cried his name again and only the one true god knew how Alahamid kept himself from turning back to help. He knew all too well what would happen if he stopped. They would all die here. Was this all because he underestimated Maas Ilidji? Anger rose from his gut and fueled his every movement he made as he realized something. Somehow this is all his fault. He promised that he will have his revenge and have the cunning datu's head. But for that to happen he had to survive.

  The black warhorse stomped its hooves on the blood soaked ground as Alahamid cut the rope that held it down. Zhultanno exhaled a cloud of vapor from its snout as though irritated for his master's lateness.

  Alahamid mounted the beast and urged it to run as fast as it could. Zhultanno reared up and dashed away from the spears' range, straight to the opening that led out of the death trap that they were in. Both man and beast burst out of the foliage, out of harm's way.

  Or so they thought.

  Just a few feet away from the opening, a line of rope tied around two opposing trees close-lined both of them. They struck the rope like a spring, sending them on a merry way to hard solid ground. Alahamid flew back as though a giant smote him off his saddle, both his swords clattering down a distance from him. The wind was knocked out of the Magalos lung, but luck was still on his side as he landed on a thick bush. Zhultanno, on the other hand, fell badly and broke its hind leg. But the horse was too stubborn as it tried to stand up only to be struck by a spear in the neck. It fell on its side and bled. Slowly, it bled dark blood. The horse nickered in his death throes as though calling for his master's aid. Alahamid tried to crawl towards it but the pain in his chest and back kept him from doing so. The beast finally died without his master on his side. Alahamid spat a vile curse, turning his head and searching for the cretin who killed Zhultanno.

  "Didn't I tell you to pray about not meeting me again, little rat?" a man spoke behind a tree where the rope was tied.

  "Ah, so the ape can do things without his master?" The Magalos finished with a sour smile as he tried to stand back. "That's good."

  "Did you like the ride?"

  Alahamid took a hold of a low lying branch for support. He was still a bit disorientated but he knew he could manage. "That was uncalled for." He leaned on a tree behind him, face clearly in pain, eyes on his warhorse.

  "Oh, yes little rat." The man revealed himself.

  He was the bald tattooed ape that tried to test Alahamid's patience and wit when he went to talk to Maas Ilidji earlier. He had his spear and shield with him and a doglike smile masked his murderous intent. "Like what I did to your friends?"

  Alahamid spat to clear his throat, but it came out as a nasty fit of coughing. He could taste the blood on his spittle and somehow he felt at ease. He'd been in this situation before. Nothing was out of hand. "Ah, before I answer that I'd like to ask a question that's been bugging me for a long while now. Did you like what we did to your village years ago? Does it still burn when you arrived there?"

  His enemy's face changed. Irritation and anger seeped through the tattooed facade, slowly eroding the man's sense of control. The Magalos slowly nodded. Did I struck a nerve? Alahamid thought. He smiled again but this time it was more like a sneer as his foe grumbled something. Things were still salvageable here. He could still make it out alive. He only needed an opportunity. And this dumb ape won't see it coming when he strikes. He knew it. He wagered everything on it and he was rarely wrong.

  "Are you going to let your men do the work for you, ape?" Alahamid said, more confident than a desperate man has the right to.

  "Do you see anyone here with me? No?" The tattooed man extended his arm, a subtle invitation. "Hey, I'm not gonna wait for you forever here. Go pick your sword up and fight, Magalos!"

  Alahamid walked as straight as he could to one of his blade. He picked it up and cleaned the dust off it with his red sash. "I'll make this worth your time. I'll make sure you regret it too."

  And without hesitation, he leaped towards his enemy, gritting his teeth in pain. His opponent raised his shield in time to absorb the lethal blow and retaliated using his spear. He struck with blurring speed, but Alahamid was out of range.

  After all, he knew how these things went. And it almost always went to his favor.

  "Ah, I'm not even surprise," Alahamid said, a note of insult in his tone. "But I wonder how many tricks your master taught you, ape."

  He vaulted to his enemy's flank and struck mercilessly with the flat of his sword, hitting his foe in the shoulder. The tattooed ape staggered, his back on an ancient narra tree. He shook his head as the great tree's leaves fell upon impact.

  "He thought me enough to shut you up permanently!" the tattooed brute growled and attacked him with renewed ferocity.

  Alahamid had to move as far away from the man's spear. His enemy relied too much on his brutish force. His form was lacking and predictable. The lieutenant on the other hand, chose his attacks. And he chose them well. With one easy motion, he struck his enemy, disarming his spear from him with one flick of the wrist. But the man-ape was stubborn. He roared and rushed Alahamid, using his shield like a ram. But the Magalos lieutenant had been on so many fights that he already knew the right counter. He made his move and tripped his enemy. The tattooed man crashed on a tree head first, shield clattering away from his grip. Alahamid stood over his conquered foe, blade glinting with malice.

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  "Now, let's get this over with. I'd really like to stay but–"

  Before he could finish and strike his enemy dead Alahamid's feet collapsed under him and pain rose like the waves of the seas around Pu-Lilo. Only then did he realized that someone kicked him in the legs. He staggered away, dropping his sword behind.

  The man who attacked him was the same peculiar fellow who carried the giant sword. The very man who stood beside Maas Ilidji. His hair was gnarly, held only by a piece of cloth. His face glistened with sweat and when he spoke he sounded different compared to Maas Ilidji and the brutish ape. A wanderer from a far off land. A man out of place just like Alahamid.

  The tattooed man regained his composure and took Alahamid's blade.

  ***

  "Ming, what're you doing?" the gnarly-haired man said, which made the tattooed timawa take pause. But he didn't turn to address him when he spoke. It was too dangerous to turn your back against a Magalos.

  "Would you believe I'm doing this for everyone?" Mingming said.

  "Everyone? Even Pulaco? Won't this aggravate things."

  "You want me to show mercy? This is a killer. He's not like us."

  "Mercy? If that's what you want to call it, go call it that. Maybe, he deserves to die, but Pulaco wouldn't want it done this way. Let's take him alive. You need to stop this."

  "Did you hear me?" Mingming snapped. "The man's a killer. He won't stop till he gets us all dead."

  "Maybe. Or maybe, he's exactly like us. Just on the other side. Don't start something you'll regret. Pulaco has a point."

  "No," the tattooed timawa said. I'm not like him, Mingming thought. I will never be like him. Doubt slithered and snaked inside his heart, spreading gangrenous fear. He held the Magalos' gray blade tighter. "A while ago you would have castrated this fool for his insolence. You even questioned Pulaco's competence. Now, what made you want to spare this vermin?"

  "A little bit of thinking does that to you. A while ago I was just thinking for myself. But how about Malaya and my child. Your people? You'll put them in danger. We'll put them in danger if I only think for myself." Lam stood. "War's the last resort. It's not the answer here. Pulaco's right."

  "But someone has to finish this. And Pulaco is not here." Mingming raised the Magalos' blade in the air. But the gnarly-haired wanderer tackled down Alahamid's tattooed opponent to the ground and there they struggled to overpower each other.

  "I won't let you do it." Lam wrestled Mingming down, retaliating with ferocity but it was clear that they were holding their punches from the start. They were not fighting to kill or deal permanent damage. Their goal was simply to halt each other's actions.

  ***

  Alahamid stood up. Where they friends? Inconsequential, thought the Magalos. He needed to seize this moment. This was just another opening. And so, he took the opportunity. He grabbed the spear and dashed behind the two men to skewer them. To end them. To escape and fight another day and to avenge Zhultanno and his men.

  The gnarly-haired man saw what he was trying to do. So, he pushed the tattooed ape away from him. Alahamid kept on going and struck the gnarly-haired man on his flank. The man cried in pain as he fell back on the shadow of a giant ancient tree. Alahamid turned to finish the tattooed ape next, but was struck down as the brute swung a fist to his jaw. They grappled each other on the dusty ground like tigers fighting for dominance. Each strike was answered with another vicious blow. Alahamid smote the tattooed ape on the side, making his opponent grunt in agony. The Magalos smiled. A weakness was waiting for him to exploit.

  "Like that? Here, have another one." Alahamid punched him on the same injured rib again. The tattooed ape reeled in agony and the Magalos' iron fingers latched on his neck and started to strangle the life out of him.

  "Oh, speak up. Cat bit your tongue, ape?" Alahamid said as he shook the man's head. His victim was slowly turning purple as the veins on his neck popped and his eyes bulged. A man can only hold his breath for so long and Alahamid was determined to make his enemy meet his maker a lot faster. "Can't breathe, ape?"

  Mingming tried to claw himself free, but the Magalos hand held his neck like a clamp. His vision was fading and he was losing his own grip on life itself. He was going to die. It was going to end with him failing to save and protect his village. The thought woke him up. It cant be like this. He won't be a failure. With the last ounce of his energy, he grabbed the nearest thing within arms reach and smashed it on the man's head. It landed with a dull crunch and the Magalos warrior slumped down beside him, skull split open. And just like that Mingming of the Daragangan sentenced everyone he cared for to death.

  He let the bloodied shield fall from his hands and tried to lift his head up, but his throat was raw. He decided to remain there on the ground, body still aching, but a bit relieved. Just like that, he thought. Lam might be speaking the truth. A man should do the right thing if he could. But in this case, he couldn't show him mercy, Mingming convinced himself. Whether this was the right thing or not, Mingming no longer cared.

  "Pulaco was wrong, a man's mercy has no place in war," he whispered. "It will never have a place here. As long as there are people to envy and as long as there are love one's to avenge."

  Mingming stood on weak knees, trying to savor every breath he took. Death was too close for comfort a moment ago. He turned towards the place where Lam fell, but he was no longer there. He searched for him as best he could but decided that he must've gotten up. He must have ran back to the village, Mingming thought. Back to Mandawili to tell Pulaco of Mingming's misdeeds. He cursed as he felt the first droplets of rain on his back as the gray sky opened up to extend its sympathy to the fallen. To those who died like men. Like Baganis. Mingming could hear the cheer of the Daragangan above their enemies' lair. Victory was there's. They were all triumphant. As he walked, droplets turned into light flitting rain, sending chills all over his body. He remembered his fallen comrades and those friends long dead as he held his head up towards the ash gray clouds.

  "This is for all of you," he whispered. "A blood debt paid."He looked back down on the prone body of the fierce Magalos and felt a chill crawl on his spine. He killed his enemies. He got his revenge. And still, he felt empty. Justified but empty. It was not the victory he hoped it would be. He spat at the Magalos' corpse and called for his loyal men. He'd have to tell Pulaco about this. To change the man's mind. To help him realize the truth. But somehow he couldn't think of the right words to say...