The once-crowded street, filled with the alluring voices of discrimination and accusation, stood in silent anticipation of Kaj's answer. The longer they waited, the more their hearts shifted towards a negative response. The crowd's judgment was clear: the offer was an act of compassion, but they believed it was an offer that would be refused. After all, Jeet was twice her age, and they saw no reason why a young woman, even one in her situation, would accept such a proposal.
As the low mutter of the people reached Chinua's ears, she realized that the longer she waited for Kaj to answer Jeet, the more likely Kaj would say no. The silent judgment of the crowd was a tangible force, pushing the young woman toward a choice born of shame. So, instead of waiting, Chinua moved forward to take matters into her own hands. She would save Kaj from a future of gossip and ill stares, a fate far worse than any prison.
Chinua knew that as long as Jeet was willing to marry Kaj, that was the most important thing. She looked at Kaj, then at Jeet, and with a voice that brooked no argument, she said, "Then that's settled." She walked to Hye and shook her head, her gaze resting on his bleeding wound. "Let's get your wound treated," she commanded. Looking at Naksh, she gave her final orders: "You and Jeet will take some soldiers and help your bride bury her dead family." She left no room for the others to talk, her voice a final, decisive declaration that put an end to the argument and sealed Kaj's fate for a better than worse outcome.
Naksh and Jeet took a group of soldiers and left with Kaj towards her home leaving the others behind still standing on the street.
By the time Mayor Dae had made it to where Chinua, the Magoli soldiers, and a few civilians were still gathered in the street, he quickly rushed in only to find a scene of quiet. He realized the heated standoff he heard about had already been resolved, and the people had already begun to return to their own homes. The air was still and heavy, a stark contrast to the urgency of his own panic. He was a leader rushing to a crisis, only to find that the new power in his city had already dealt with it, swiftly and without him.
Seeing the soldiers standing before a woman in armor, he knew that the woman before him was no other than the Eastern General of Hmagol that everyone talked about. If no one had told him that Chinua was a woman, he would have surely mistaken her for a man. She was taller than most women he had ever met, with a strong body structure, and her armor made her look as fierce as any Magoli man. He stood in silent awe of the woman who had just brought a brutal but swift justice to his city.
Although he was afraid to approach, his duty as the mayor of Nue-Li City forced him to step forward. He must approach their conqueror to gain a better understanding of the fate of the civilians and the captured soldiers. His own fear was nothing compared to the immense responsibility he felt for his people, and he moved with a newfound courage to face the woman who now held his city's future in her hands.
"Since the city was taken," Dae asked, his voice steady despite his fear, "what are you going to do with the civilians and the captured soldiers?" He looked straight at Chinua, his question a direct and unyielding demand for an answer. He was the city's leader, and he was doing his duty, risking his own safety to understand the fate of his people.
Chinua looked at the man, who was a slight shorter than her, her expression a mask of cold professionalism. In her mind, she had no idea who this person was or why he would suddenly ask her a question that was entirely out of place with the current situation. She had just dealt with a brutal military matter, and here was a civilian, presumptuous enough to demand answers from her.
"And who are you?" Chinua asked Dae back. Her voice was flat and devoid of emotion, her question not a sign of curiosity but a silent demand for his reason for being there. To her, this civilian was a variable she hadn't accounted for, a man who had inserted himself into a military affair with no clear purpose.
"I am Mayor Dae," Dae said, but the words felt hollow as he realized the city was now a part of the Hmagol Kingdom. His title had no longer existed. He sighed, a weary admission of his new reality, and corrected himself. "I was the mayor of Nue-Li City." The simple past tense was a final, painful acknowledgment that his power, his authority, and his identity had been stripped away by the silent conquest.
Chinua looked at Dae, then back at Hye, and a hint of a smile touched her lips. "Oh, you might want to ask Hye that question, because I have no idea what he wants to do with this city and its people," she said, her words a stunning dismissal of her own authority. Her tone then turned grim and serious. "But, Mayor, as for now, it would be best if you could let your people know not to rebel." She delivered a cold, final warning that was meant to be obeyed.
Dae asked, his voice flat, "Why?" The single word hung in the air, a sign of his profound confusion. He had expected to meet with a cold, ruthless conqueror, but instead he was faced with a powerful general who was seemingly giving away her authority to a common man with no real power. The mayor was a man who understood power and order, and this new reality was one he could not comprehend.
"Because the moment they do, they will be terminated," Chinua said, her voice a cold, sharp blade. There was no emotion in her words, no hint of a threat, just a simple statement of fact. She wasn't warning him; she was telling him the absolute and unyielding reality of their new power structure. Her answer was a clear, brutal sign of the fate that awaited any who would dare to challenge the Magoli's authority.
"I will make sure your words have been spread throughout the city by nightfall," Dae said. His voice was no longer flat with confusion, but sharp with a newfound purpose. He had just received a clear directive and a heavy responsibility, and he intended to carry it out. He was a leader stripped of his title, but not of his duty to protect his people from the cold, swift justice of the Magoli.
"Oh, by the way," Chinua said, her tone shifting to a casual curiosity that was jarring after her blunt orders. "Mayor, are you one of those people who tied white cloth on their front door?" The question was an unexpected turn, a sudden inquiry into a civilian custom that Dae could not have predicted. It was a strange juxtaposition of her cold authority and a personal interest, leaving the mayor baffled.
"Yes," Dae said, his voice quiet with shame. "I am one of them." The admission was a heavy one. The white cloth was a public symbol of his people's surrender, a stark contrast to the defiance he had just shown in facing Chinua. He had humbled himself before her, and now he was admitting to a deeper humiliation—that he and his people had already accepted their defeat before their enemy had even entered the city.
"Good," Chinua said with a warm smile. "Since you are mayor, your residence must be big?" She then turned to look at Hye, her eyes holding a silent, decisive decision. "I have chosen his home for tonight."
Dae's heart sank as he realized that the Hmagol Eastern General was going to take over his home. A bitter understanding settled over him. This was the reality of war. The winner takes all, and the loser loses everything. He knew he had no say in the matter, and his mind, once so filled with the hope of diplomacy, now accepted a single, brutal truth: his home was no longer his own.
"It is," Dae answered, his voice a low tone filled with the emotion of having to give away his home to a complete stranger. "But I will need some time to find a place for my family before you can move in." His words were a humble plea, a final request for a shred of decency in the face of absolute power. He had accepted his fate, but he was not going to let his family be cast out onto the streets without a struggle.
Chinua was confused by Dae's answer. Her request was a simple logistical matter, not an act of conquest. She was merely looking for a place to hold Jeet and Kaj's wedding, a temporary shelter for a night of celebration. The mayor's deep emotion and his willingness to give up his home was a testament to his fear, but to Chinua, it was a profound misinterpretation. The gap between his terror and her simple request was a stark and unsettling reminder of the power she held and the way it was perceived.
"I think you misunderstood her," Hye said, his voice calm despite the pain as he held a piece of cloth to his bleeding palm. He had seen the mayor's shoulders slump in defeat and understood the assumption that had been made. It was a logical conclusion for a man in his position, but Hye knew it was wrong. He knew Chinua's strange question wasn't a threat, but an odd attempt at finding a place for the new bride.
Dae looked at Hye, and a slow understanding dawned on him, his features hardening with grim resignation. "I believe I understand her clearly," he said, his voice now devoid of emotion. He finally grasped that this was not a simple act of conquest, but a gesture of mocking kindness, a brutal show of force masked as a benign act. His home was still not his own, but the reason was even more humiliating than a simple seizure. He was not just being conquered; he was being used as a pawn in a game he didn't even know existed.
Although Hye was in pain, he knew no one understood Chinua better than he did. To ease the misunderstanding between Chinua and Dae, he gave a small smile. "She was asking if your home is big enough to accommodate twenty people for a wedding," he said, his voice gentle. The words hung in the air, a final correction that revealed the vast chasm between the mayor's fear and the general's strange practicality. Hye was trying to ease the mayor's mind, showing a quiet compassion that stood in stark contrast to the brutal events that had just unfolded.