The wind carried whispers of fear—across rivers, through tall grass, and into distant camps. A small tribe known as the Kòk Batay, once overlooked and unremarkable, had overstepped in silence. It was they who had offered bribes, coin, and false promises to members of Nouvo Lakay—hoping to sway loyalty and sabotage from within.
They had laughed when Zion exiled his own.
But they did not know Ogou had been watching.
Ogou's Army Rises
After the storm, Ogou had marked those who spilled blood in loyalty.
A burn beneath their skin.
A surge of strength in their limbs.
A clarity of mind in battle.
Thalia stood before the marked ones—men and women who now bore a second sigil beside their god-given mark: the Sword of Service.
"You gave your blood to Ogou.
Now you fight in his name," she declared.
"You are no longer just warriors.
You are Sèvitè Ogou—the Iron Guard."
Over 80 fighters stood in rank and file, their training swift, brutal, and precise. Every breath became a war chant. Every weapon, an extension of will.
The Command from the Flame
At the altar, Zion knelt in trance. Flames rose, shaped not by wood but by will.
Ogou spoke, not in riddles—but in command.
"The Kòk Batay tribe has insulted the divine.
They tempted the weak and celebrated betrayal.
They must be burned out—like rot from meat."
Zion hesitated—but the fire around him growled, crackling with divine hunger.
"This is not conquest. This is justice.
They struck first, and now… they learn the cost."
The March of Iron
Three nights later, under a crimson sky, Zion and Thalia led the Iron Guard south.
The Kòk Batay, unaware of their fate, celebrated a harvest.
They danced.
They sang.
They drank.
And then the earth shook.
Fire rained from the treeline.
Screams broke the sky.
The Iron Guard moved like smoke—cutting through resistance, striking with terrifying precision.
Thalia led the front line, her body alight with Ogou's fury. Her blade flashed once, twice—then glowed red hot. Her war cry shattered a defender's morale before her sword even struck.
"This is the price of treachery," she said, standing over the broken totem of their false gods.
No survivors were spared.
By dawn, the village was ash. The smoke could be seen from the mountains.
A Message Delivered
Zion ordered a single monument be raised atop the ruin: a spear buried in the earth with Ogou's veve carved deep into stone.
"Let no one forget what betrayal brings."
They left nothing else.
No gold.
No bodies.
No names.
Only silence.
Return to Nouvo Lakay
The Iron Guard returned without cheers.
Their spears were bloodied. Their eyes heavier.
But their posture straighter.
A new generation of warriors had been born—not from tradition, but from divine fire.
Zion called a gathering and spoke few words:
"We did not choose this war. But we will finish every one that comes.
The gods do not speak for sport. And we will not bleed in vain."