The fire roared to life, crackling and spitting smoke into the air. People stirred, shouted, scattered. A few of the Mad King's loyal men tried to move forward and control the fire, but they were stopped by the traitors.
The flames continued to burn, and unconsciously, the entire camp turned their eyes toward the tent. Some were relieved, others terrified. A few were saddened, thinking the hope of the unarmed would die with the Mad King.
The camp stood in stunned silence.
Then, a shadow appeared in the flames. It seemed someone was walking out.
"It's him," a voice cried from a distance. The speaker immediately went weak at the knees and collapsed to the ground.
"The Mad King." Everyone watching thought the same but didn't dare believe it. How could anyone survive such fire? Even the people of the Fire Tribe would be burned; how could this be?
No matter how much they doubted, they could not deny what they saw. The figure in the flames, clad in soot-streaked leather, stepped forward. His gaze was cold, and murder was evident in his eyes.
"Traitors!" His voice cracked like lightning through the air.
Darren and the others had not expected this turn of events. It made no sense for him to walk out alive. As they stared in disbelief, the Mad King raised his hand and a volley of arrows flew from the shadows behind him. His loyalists had been waiting for the signal.
Several men were struck down where they stood. The others fled, screaming, into the wilderness. The loyalists who had pretended to retreat earlier now drew their swords and hunted down the fleeing traitors.
Darren and the other leaders were captured and brought before the Mad King.
"Throw them into the fire they prepared," the Mad King commanded.
The four men were immediately dragged to the flames and cast into the fire.
"Master, I have done as you commanded," Fair said, bowing low; he was the only conspirator not thrown into the fire.
Darren and the other leaders realized too late that Fair had been a double agent. They wanted to curse him, but the fire silenced all words. All they could do was scream as the flames consumed them.
The stench of burning flesh filled the camp.
The Mad King raised his eyes to the crowd.
Every unarmed man and woman trembled with fear. None dared meet his gaze.
Then, one man stepped forward and knelt.
"Long live the King of the Unarmed!" he shouted.
Others followed suit. No one dared harbor rebellious thoughts anymore.
"We stand united," the Mad King declared, "and we will fight against the oppression of the Water Tribe and the Fire Tribe. Who will join me to overturn this world?"
"I will join the King's cause!" shouted the soldiers who had trained under him. One by one, even those who had been skeptical stepped forward to join the unarmed army.
"Who will join me in creating a new world for our children? A world where the unarmed have justice and live in homes of their own? A world without the Fire Tribe and Water Tribe?" the Mad King called.
"We fight to the death! We live for one day! We destroy the Water Tribe and Fire Army! The world must belong to the unarmed—or there will be no unarmed!" the soldiers roared in unison.
And just like that, the camp belonged to the Mad King once again. Fear returned—stronger than ever.
From that day on, no one dared speak his name without bowing their heads. The Mad King had not only survived; he had risen from the fire like a god of vengeance.
---
Far away, in his lavish hall, King Ura received the news.
The boy was mad, yes.
But he was also dangerous.
Too dangerous to ignore.
He could not understand how the Mad King had survived the fire. He immediately summoned all generals and council members. Before the Mad King grew even stronger, he had to be dealt with.
"Your Majesty, how about we enter into a truce with the Mad King?" suggested the Lord of the Fourth Clan. He was young and known for his soft heart.
"Are you insane? As the central province of the Water Tribe, you would have us bow to a mad boy from the unarmed?" roared the Lord of the Second Clan, visibly furious.
"Well, did you not hear the report? That man walked out of a fire unharmed. How do you intend to defeat him?" the Lord of the Fourth Clan replied, not wanting to appear cowardly.
"He is just one man. Why should our province fear him?" the Lord of the Second Clan snapped.
"But if he's unaffected by fire… he might be a descendant of the Dragon Blood," the Lord of the Fourth Clan said quietly.
The hall fell silent. Everyone had considered this possibility.
"Your Majesty," an elder spoke up, "I say we send our elite soldiers to kill those rebels. We lost the first time because we underestimated them."
The Lord of the Fourth Clan opened his mouth to respond, but the elder cut him off.
"There have been no Dragon Blood for hundreds of years. He cannot be one. And even if he is... that's all the more reason to eliminate him before he becomes too powerful."
Everyone in the hall nodded in agreement. King Ura shared their thoughts.
"Then—" he began, but a knock at the chamber door interrupted him.
"Your Majesty, a letter of challenge has arrived," a voice called from outside.
King Ura frowned. "Let him in."
The doors were pulled open, and a man, gravely wounded, was helped into the hall. Another attendant carried a bloody sack behind him.
The court watched in grim silence.
"Your Majesty," the injured man said, collapsing to his knees in the center of the hall.
"Speak," King Ura ordered, not wishing to waste time.
"My name is Gil. I was one of the five spies sent to infiltrate the unarmed and gather information," he began, his voice weak. "After sending the report about the morning incident, we tried to continue blending in to count their fighters. But we were exposed. The Mad King made his move himself. We didn't have a chance to run or fight. Four of us were killed… I alone was spared."
He paused, hesitating.
"Continue," King Ura said through clenched teeth.
"The Mad King… sent me to deliver the heads of the others. He challenges our central province to war. He said: 'On this central field, there can only be one king.'"
The spy collapsed.
"War it is then," King Ura declared.