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Chapter Twenty-Two: Siege of the Delta
The Niger Delta's morning fog hung low, thick as wet clay, clinging to the mangrove roots that twisted across the waterways. Fires smoldered in distant villages, traces of Mana surges, and smoke rose from ruined outposts. Somewhere, a pack of Mana-zombies moved through the reeds, their guttural cries a low, constant pressure on the nerves of every soldier in Dele's union.
Dele stood on the balcony of a reinforced command tower in Port Harcourt, his gaze sweeping the delta's tangle of rivers and canals. He breathed in the humid, earthy air and let the currents of Mana flow subtly around him. His mind stretched across the battlefield, threading his awareness through every node, every soldier, every potential threat — human or undead.
"Kairo," he said, his voice calm but carrying the weight of command, "how do the northern flanks hold?"
Kairo, standing at attention, scanned the Mana projections on a floating holo-map. "Some units are overstretched. Zombie packs are pushing faster than predicted. Local militias are faltering. We've lost small outposts along the eastern canal."
Dele's jaw tightened. "Then we will bend the chaos to our will. Let the pressure continue — it is a test. But no one dies without purpose. Reinforce the delta channels, redirect currents, and push the zombie packs toward the rogue human units. Make every attack teach obedience."
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By mid-morning, the union's forces were moving like water through the delta, using narrow canals, Mana-stabilized bridges, and floating platforms. The zombies pressed constantly, their relentless advance forcing soldiers to fight in tight formations, Mana surges flowing around them to amplify defenses and attacks.
Kairo led one of the frontline divisions, his eyes darting between squads, zombies, and enemy human combatants. "Manu! Left flank! Zaku! Overwatch!" he shouted, mixing Hausa and Igbo to rally troops. Soldiers reacted instinctively, following orders as Mana arcs stabilized the muddy terrain beneath their feet.
A sudden screech pierced the air as a zombie pack burst from the water, dragging a militia squad into the depths. Kairo signaled his own Mana unit, and a wave of controlled energy surged, sending the creatures flying back into the reeds. "Oya! Push forward!" he bellowed, guiding the surviving troops to reclaim the lost ground.
Dele observed all of this remotely through the Mana lattice, feeling every pulse, every strike, every scream. "Good," he murmured. "They are learning discipline under pressure. The undead are teachers, and we are the masters."
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The first major confrontation erupted near an abandoned oil depot. Rogue human units had fortified the area, believing the dense maze of pipelines would shield them from both the union and the zombies. They were wrong.
Mana-infused currents bent subtly at Dele's command, redirecting zombie packs into choke points around the depot. Human defenders fired desperately, their shots scattering Mana energy unpredictably. Zombies lunged from every side, forcing the attackers into a panic, while Kairo's squads struck with precision, exploiting the confusion.
A human commander, shouting in Yoruba, cursed loudly: "Ṣé ẹ wà nibi?!" ("Are you here?!") as a Mana-zombie tore through his ranks. Kairo moved swiftly, Mana-enhanced strikes sending creatures flying back into the water. He barely had time to breathe before the next wave surged forward.
From Dele's perspective, the battlefield was a symphony of energy. Currents bent subtly, creating defensive walls, amplifying attacks, and guiding undead pressure where it would break enemy lines without harming his own troops. Every decision was preemptive, every outcome calculated.
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By nightfall, fires lit the sky like blood over the delta. The battlefield was strewn with bodies — both human and Mana-zombie. Yet the union advanced, securing key outposts and river channels. Soldiers, exhausted and muddy, looked to Kairo and felt the pulse of Dele's presence in every Mana-infused strike.
Kairo reported via secure comm: "All primary nodes in the northern delta are secured. Zombie pressure is contained but persistent. Rogue human units have been neutralized or integrated."
Dele's lips curved into a rare smile. "Excellent. Let the constant threat remind them: survival depends on alignment, obedience, and understanding the currents. The zombies are our instruments, not just obstacles."
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Over the next several days, the union's forces pushed further, clearing swamps, reclaiming villages, and neutralizing rogue human pockets. Zombie packs pressed constantly, forcing tactical innovation, rapid adaptation, and Mana-driven precision. Soldiers learned to fight under pressure, guided by Kairo and the invisible hand of Dele's lattice.
Villages once abandoned now stood reinforced, with energy nodes stabilizing the region and providing early warnings of undead incursions. The delta itself became both battlefield and classroom — every attack, every retreat, every Mana pulse teaching discipline, obedience, and survival.
Dele moved through his mental lattice, extending control subtly across rivers and villages. "Observe," he instructed Kairo silently through the Mana link. "Let them feel fear, chaos, and pressure. Then show them mastery. They must understand that the world bends only to knowledge and strategy."
Kairo's eyes scanned the horizon, noting zombie movements, human hesitations, and Mana flows. "The soldiers are adapting. They fight better under constant pressure," he reported.
Dele's mind stretched farther, weaving currents across the delta, anticipating every attack. "Good," he whispered. "Africa bends to the currents. Every shadow, every threat, every scream teaches them order."
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By the end of the week, the union had fully secured the Niger Delta. Every river, village, and swampy channel was under precise Mana control. Zombies were corralled, redirected, and used to enforce obedience indirectly. Rogue humans were either integrated or destroyed.
Dele, standing on a ridge overlooking the delta at sunset, reflected on the battlefield. The chaos, the blood, the screams — they were tools. Pressure was constant, but mastery was absolute. Africa had survived under fire, and its forces had grown stronger because of it.
He turned to Kairo, who stood silently beside him, observing the calm after the storm. "We have begun shaping survival," Dele said. "The world beyond this continent will notice soon. Pressure shapes strength, and mastery shapes survival. Remember that, always."
The delta hummed beneath their feet, alive with Mana, alive with potential. Zombies still prowled beyond the controlled zones, a constant reminder that chaos was never fully gone. But under Dele's guidance, Africa had proven it could not just survive — it could dominate.
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