CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT: “With Hate, Blade”
With a live deer gripped firmly in his left hand by the hooves and a jar of local rice wine in his right, he strolled toward the courtyard with an unburdened heart. A light hum escaped his lips, and he greeted those he passed with a rare, genuine smile.
The cold wind was an afterthought, lost to the warmth radiating within him—an armor against the world’s chill. His only concern was whether Lenora had already drifted off to sleep before he made it home.
Home. For the first time in his life, the word carried meaning. It was a place that brought him peace, a place he wanted to return to.
A quiet chuckle rumbled from his throat as a stray thought surfaced—Milani. How ironic that he could trust her after all. Once, he had watched her like a hawk, doubting even the way she sneezed. To him, she was a master manipulator, capable of twisting reality until a man no longer recognized himself.
Had he misjudged her?
Had he spent his life seeing the world through a narrow lens?
Could the world, in its ruthless nature, hold kindness too?
Had he, all this time, been the villain in his own story?
The sight of the familiar courtyard in the distance interrupted his musings, but an unfamiliar sensation coiled in his gut—an unshakable restlessness, a tension brewing beneath his ribs. Without realizing it, his steps quickened, driven by an urgent anticipation.
The sun had dipped lower, and twilight stretched its fingers across the sky. Yet, as he neared the house, something made him slow.
An aura hung in the air—heavy, suffocating.
Or was he overthinking?
Perhaps it was just the unlit lanterns casting eerie shadows.
Then, the scent reached him.
Faint but unmistakable. Metallic. Familiar.
Blood.
His gaze dropped.
Dark red crystals glistened on the frozen ground, fragmented like shattered rubies beneath the dying light.
The deer slipped from his grip, its hooves kicking up snow as it fled into the night.
He crouched, pinching a piece of the frozen crimson between his fingers, rubbing it between the ridges of his calloused thumb.
“Blood.”
The word left him in a whisper, almost drowned by the wind.
His eyes traced the streaks leading into the courtyard, his pulse hammering louder with every step forward.
Each footfall carried a dreadful weight.
A war raged in his mind—one part desperate to dismiss the signs, another preparing for the worst.
And then he reached the entrance.
Women lay crumpled on the ground, their stillness unnatural, their fates sealed. The wind had carried away most of the stench, but the blood—oh, the blood was still there, staining the courtyard like ink spilled over a page.
Lenora. Milani.
His mind latched onto their names as he broke into a run, his feet pounding against the wooden floor as he rushed into the house.
He could already see it in his head—Milani, shielding Lenora, whispering reassurances.
But reality had no mercy.
Something caught his eye, halting him mid-stride.
His head turned. His breath caught.
His grip slackened on the jar of wine. It slipped from his fingers, shattering upon impact, shards scattering, liquid splashing across the frozen ground.
She lay there.
Lenora.
Motionless.
Draped in a bed of crimson—her own blood.
His mind rejected it, his body moving before reason could intervene.
No. That couldn’t be Lenora.
He bolted into the house, searching.
She had to be here. He had to find her.
Room after room, corner after corner, he tore through the house in a frantic daze, overturning tables, yanking aside curtains, even stepping onto the bed as if her small frame could somehow be hidden beneath it.
Nothing.
No Lenora. No Milani.
His breaths came in ragged bursts, his hands trembling. He searched again. And again. His mind screamed at him to look harder, to find what simply wasn’t there.
His vision blurred, the edges of his world spinning as his body finally betrayed him.
He staggered back outside.
And there she was.
Lenora’s lifeless eyes bore into his soul.
His fingers raked through his hair, his chest tightening as his reality shattered around him.
She was gone.
And Milani…
Milani was missing.
His knees buckled. He stumbled forward, collapsing beside her, reaching for her small, frozen frame. Snowflakes had already begun to gather on her lashes, dusting her delicate hands.
She was so cold.
Too cold.
He pulled her into his arms, and the first sob tore through him.
Then another.
And another.
The memories came flooding back, unbidden and merciless. Her laughter. Her warmth. Her little hands tugging at his sleeve.
Now, she was nothing but a body.
The pain was unbearable, a blade lodged in his chest and twisted without remorse.
Regret crushed him.
Regret for everything.
His godfather’s words echoed in his head, drowning him in guilt.
Regret for his choices.
Regret for his very existence.
And most of all—regret for trusting Milani.
A darkness swept over him, snuffing out the grief like a candle in the wind.
His expression hardened. His jaw clenched. His hands, once trembling, now curled into fists.
Milani.
She had done this.
She had played him, earned his trust, and struck when his back was turned.
His grief turned to fury, molten and consuming.
His arms loosened, and Lenora’s lifeless body slipped from his grasp, hitting the bloodstained snow with a dull thud.
He rose, his body brimming with raw, seething rage.
“This…” His voice was hoarse, cracked with emotion. His teeth ground together as he kicked the snow beside her, his frustration manifesting in reckless violence.
“This is not who I left in your care, Milani.”
His voice escalated into a roar.
He seized Lenora’s hand, flinging her body over his shoulder with cold efficiency.
With each step out of the courtyard, his fury grew.
And at that moment, only one thing was certain.
Milani would pay.
___________________________________________✍
FIVE MONTHS LATER
The horse collapsed with a bone-jarring thud, sending Blade and the small wooden coffin tumbling to the ground. The impact shattered the coffin’s fragile cover, and from within spilled the grotesque remains of Lenora—her body decayed, flesh putrid, the stench of death saturating the air.
Maggots writhed in the rotting cavities of her once-delicate form, her features all but unrecognizable. Yet Blade did not recoil. He did not grieve. He merely refused to accept what lay before him.
Lenora was not dead.
Milani had stolen the real Lenora. And now, Blade would return this hollow, rotting shell she had left behind—and take back the living one.
With a careful, almost reverent touch, he gathered her desecrated body and laid it once more within the coffin, draping his tattered cloak over the remains. His movements were deliberate, controlled.
The horse that had carried them was dead.
From the freezing villages of the mountain pass to the very gates of the City of the Scarlet Blades, Blade had ridden twenty-seven horses to their deaths, driving them to their limits without hesitation.
He had only one thought throughout the journey.
Lenora is with Milani. And I will take her back. No matter what.
Now, the entrance loomed before him, magnificent in its foreboding splendor. CITY OF THE SCARLET BLADES—the words, etched in bold Algerian font, were painted a sickly shade of pale green. The massive pillars flanking the gateway bore the stains of dried blood, their crimson smears a testament to the city’s ruthless nature.
Two female assassins stood guard, their gazes locking onto Blade with barely concealed disgust.
He was a wretched sight. His clothes were little more than bloodstained rags, his beard had grown unruly, and his tangled hair hung like a wild, unkempt mane. The filth of his journey clung to him, but worse than his appearance was the smell. He reeked of death, a walking plague of decay and suffering.
Still, none of it mattered.
Nothing mattered but Lenora.
As he stepped toward the gates, the assassins bristled, raising their guns in warning.
“This is no place for madmen,” one of them barked, her voice laced with unease. She gripped the gun awkwardly, her stance betraying inexperience. An amateur.
The second one fired a warning shot, the bullet whizzing past his ear.
Blade scoffed. This is what the city had been reduced to? Gatekeepers who couldn’t even hold their weapons properly?
“Is this the kind of pathetic defense the Scarlet Blades have resorted to?” His voice was calm, yet edged with derision. “Two amateurs, barely capable of holding their guns steady?”
He took another step forward. The women instinctively retreated, hands trembling against the triggers.
“I’m not here for you,” he stated, his voice steady despite the madness seething beneath it. “I’m here for Milani.”
The guards exchanged glances.
“We don’t know anyone by that name,” one of them muttered.
In a heartbeat, Blade moved.
With effortless precision, he seized the girl’s wrist, yanking her forward. Before she could react, he had her own gun against her temple, his grip unyielding.
“Think carefully before you answer,” he warned, his voice a blade against her trembling skin. “I’m not here to play games.”
The other assassin paled. “We don’t know Milani!” she insisted, panic creeping into her voice.
“But we know someone who does!” the second girl blurted out.
Blade shoved his captive to the ground, retrieving the coffin before hoisting it onto his shoulder once more.
“Take me to them,” he commanded. “And don’t try anything foolish. My finger could slip… and I have no patience left.”
_________________________________✍
Wherever he walked, the scent of decay followed, clinging to the air like a curse. And still, Blade carried the coffin boldly, undeterred by the disgusted glares or the hushed murmurs of the city’s inhabitants.
His guide led him through winding streets and towering structures, past alleys filled with cutthroats and courtyards soaked in the echoes of past murders. The fourth building they visited—a grand estate adorned with vibrant hibiscus flowers—offered no answers. No one had heard of Milani.
Blade’s patience thinned.
At the entrance, his guide desperately questioned passersby, her voice growing more frantic with each inquiry.
Blade lingered at the threshold, the weight of exhaustion and restrained fury pressing down on him.
Then—
“You’re disrespecting the dead.”
A voice. Female. Sharp. Unafraid.
Blade turned.
A woman, petite but unshaken, stood before him, sweeping dead leaves from the entranceway. Her dark eyes burned with irritation, not fear.
“You’re dragging around a corpse like a sack of grain,” she snapped, punctuating her words with a sharp slap to his chest. “At least have the decency to give her a proper resting place.”
Blade regarded her coldly. This insolent pest barely reached his shoulders, yet she dared lecture him?
“Fuck off,” he growled.
He expected her to shrink back. She didn’t.
Instead, she smirked. “You remind me of Milani. Arrogant, rude… and ugly.”
Blade stilled.
The name struck like a knife to the ribs.
Before she could walk away, he caught her wrist, his grip tightening.
“You know Milani?” His voice was different now—desperate, hungry.
“Who doesn’t?” the woman scoffed. “Most arrogant bitch I’ve ever met. Thinks she’s above everyone just because she was Phaya’s favorite.”
“Where is she?”
The woman narrowed her eyes. “Why should I tell you? Weren’t you just telling me to fuck off?”
Blade exhaled sharply. “I was wrong.” He forced the words out, a rare concession. “Tell me where she is.”
She studied him, then rolled her eyes with a sigh.
“Last I heard, she was heading to America. Something about meeting an old friend. A doctor, I think.”
Blade’s fingers clenched. “Where in America?”
“Even her sister doesn’t know that. Why the hell would I?”
“Thank you,” he murmured.
But by the time the words left his lips, he was already gone.
The only trace of him was the lingering stench in the wind.
___________________________________✍
For the first time in months, Blade bathed.
After laying Lenora to rest in a solemn grave before a quiet cave, he shaved, cleaned himself, and shed the filth that had clung to him like a second skin.
Standing before the grave, he knelt.
Twice, he bowed his head in respect.
“I failed you, Lenora,” he whispered. “I wasn’t the guardian you deserved. And I know… I know you probably hate me for leaving you alone with that bitch.” His voice wavered, but he refused to let the emotion take hold. He clenched his jaw, swallowing the sorrow before it could drown him.
“But I will make it right.”
His fingers curled into fists.
“I’m going to hunt her down. I’ll get justice for you.”
He rose, turning his back to the grave.
“I’ll be back for you. I promise.”
Then, without another word, he walked away.
His path was set.
To America.
To settle a blood feud that had been long overdue.
MORALS OF THE NOVEL
Finally, we come to the end of book 1. It wasn’t so easy but glory be to God Almighty for making this possible.
For those who already know me, I don’t write novels just for fun. Yes, fun is part of the reason but I write to teach. There are so many things happening in the world that we are not 100% exposed to but they do happen. I write to buttress points.
Just like my last trilogy, “The Princess Eleanora series”, The whole series was to buttress only one point which was, “Not all Prince Charming are your knight in shining armor”.
A single point can lead to a whole series, just so I can get my point across to my viewers. So, let’s get down to it…
What are the Morals of this novel?
1. As a Parent, trust issues especially with your child is an essential value: This is the point of this novel.
You see, I can’t start going into stories and stories of beloved aunties and beloved uncles, causing pain and leaving scars on the hearts of children, either emotionally, physically or psychologically, whose parents entrusted them into the care of others.
I’m sure it would have gotten to a point where you found Blade’s trust issues annoying, and even at the end of the day, his trust issues seemed to be the right thing after all.
Entrusting your children to who you trust, might not be the problem. This is where the problem lies, your children being re-entrusted into the hands of those you don’t trust or those you don’t even know by those you entrusted them too.
That’s a lot of information!
Let me break it down… For example, Sarah has a child, that she entrusts into the hands of her brother, who loves the child so much. Now Sarah’s brother took Sarah’s child home, and in his home, he has a girlfriend, who probably cheats on him. Let’s call the girlfriend, Lala. Sarah’s boyfriend went out, leaving Lala alone at home with Sarah’s child. Lala has another boyfriend apart from Sarah’s boyfriend who came over to the house while Sarah’s brother wasn’t at home and slept with Lala. And Sarah’s child happened to see all of their affair.
That’s one example.
Another example…Mara has a child who she entrusted into the hands of her step father who indeed loved her very much. But her step father has a sister who smokes. Mara’s child then learns how to smoke from her stepfather’s sister.
And sometimes, you might not know so well the people you think you know well.
Trust issue is a very important weapon in the hand of every parent.
Blade found it hard to trust Milani, and when he finally did, it cost Lenora’s life. Now, Milani didn’t mean for Lenora to die, but shit happens sometimes.
This isn’t advice for you to take at all cost. It’s just my opinion. I stand to be corrected.
2. Assumption kills: Sometimes, it’s so much easier to assume this is the case than to actually find out what happened. Your boyfriend hasn’t called for two weeks ago. Hasn’t replied your texts and hasn’t picked your calls either. Boom! He’s cheating!
Well, I can’t defend guys all the time because they don’t have 100% integrity and sometimes it so happens to be true that they cheat, but is that always the case?
You see, we humans tend to overthink. A guy looks at you, says nothing and just leaves, and boom! He was checking me out! Or boom! Someone sent him to spy on me!
But he could just be looking at someone behind you or could even be thinking about something while looking your way!
Assuming this might be the case isn’t healthy; it could lead to so many unnecessary misunderstandings. Misunderstandings that could have been easily avoided if you had just asked.
Look at Blade. He met Lenora dead and assumed that Milani finally had the chance to kill her. But was that really the case?
Learn to communicate.
“Hey, you glared at me? Why?”
“Who’s that girl you smiled at yesterday night?”
“I asked you for money and you went offline? Could it be that you don’t have money now or could it be that you had something urgent to do?”
There’s a proverb that says, you can’t see your reflection in troubled waters, neither can you see the truth with a clouded mind and a sentimental heart.
Blade was clouded with pain of Lenora’s death, then clouded with rage and was ready to tear Milani into million pieces for what she did. Did she really do it?
Assumption might kill Milani. Who knows?
There are so many ways to peacefully Confront someone that just making unnecessary assumptions.
3. Nobody is beyond redemption: Blade was born and raised a killer. His talent was to take people’s lives away. That was his skill.
But was he too far gone to be redeemed?
Let me tell you something; No matter how bad your situation is, you’re not beyond redemption. I don’t want to know how bad that situation is.
“Oh, I’m a drug addict”
“Oh, I’m a bully”
“Oh, I’m severely obese”
Listen, you would surely face the punishment, I wouldn’t even lie to you. Today or someday, the punishment would come around.
However, you are not to live with that identity.
The day you decide to stop living that life is the day redemption comes for you. No matter how bad.
A drug addict can become clean again with determination and diligence and a constant reminder that you can overcome this addiction but the punishment would be there of people trying to isolate from you just because of that. That’s your punishment, it doesn’t define you.
A bully can decide and determine in his heart to not bully people anymore. With consistent attitude checks, frequent visits to the psychologist and determination, you refuse to be a bully but in the future those you bullied will come for you. That’s your punishment, deal with it. Even though it doesn’t define you.
An obsessed person can decide to change his or her diet and decided to eat clean, go on workouts and not give up till you reach the goal. Even if the person is 200kg, gradually, with consistency, you can have your body back but you might end up with saggy skins, saggy tummy, issues with moving and even a terrible flare up from your body. That’s your punishment, deal with it.
Remember once again, it doesn’t define you.
All these things become your battle scars. The battle doesn’t define you. But only those who were victorious write history. Don’t forget that.
4. Judgmental Judge: The Bible says, Judge not, so you would not be Judged.
Not everybody had a rosy background like you. Not everybody had loving parents like you. Not everybody knows what a fatherly love is. Not everybody had the chance to be educated. Not everybody had the chance to be loved truly. Not everybody had the opportunity to have their own child.
Fingers are not equal. People might not end up being who they wish to be because of so many variables, so must you judge?
People might feel inadequate and might cause them to misbehave.
Now, I tell you, it is going to be hard! Especially by your own strength to show love to those who maltreated You!
But that is why we have the Holy spirit who teaches us to love those who hate us. Nobody is beyond redemption and at the same time nobody should be judged. Just because she sleeps around doesn’t give you the right to label her a prostitute even if that’s what she truly does. You don’t know the choices she had to pick from and that doesn’t qualify you either to follow in her footsteps.
Don’t judge a book by it’s cover…
Don’t judge. Face your life and live it without regrets. Don’t drop your life issues and put another person’s own on your head… It’s not worth it.
5. Jesus Saves and gives peace!: I would confess to you that I was really reluctant writing this. This is a public space with so many people with so many beliefs that governs their lives. Some believe Jesus exists, others do not.
I didn’t want to say anything because I don’t like arguing about God’s existence.
Now I would be selfish, really selfish if I don’t tell you what I am enjoying and enjoy it all by myself. Afterall, I’m only human. But Jesus Christ, truly exists.
Hebrews 11:6 “Without faith, it’s impossible to please God”
Faith is the opposite of sight. You have to believe in what you have not seen; that is faith. I tell people, God is like air. You can’t see it but you know it exists. You know it’s real because you can feel it.
Ever since I gave my life to Christ, there’s this peace of mind that comes as a bonus package. Trusting that there is someone who has the capability to change your situation around exists and he loves you.
John 3:16 “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten son, that whosoever believes in him will not perish but have everlasting life”
Let’s break it down.
“For God so loved the world…” God created this world and he loved it so dearly. Just as we create things and love it dearly. Like my love for my novels now and your love for your paintings or your love for your dishes which you create.
I’m just trying to make a comparison but God’s love is much greater than all of that.
And because he loves us so much, “…That he gave his only begotten son…”
Now there’s a theory in the Bible that explains this.
When God created the world it was without blemish and without sin. The reason why he created we humans was that there should be a fellowship between him and us.
Now Satan came and introduced sin. Sin is what separates us from God.
Sin started reproducing fast like virus in the human body that I got to a stage that God regretted creating mankind. But he still loved us and wanted to redeem us, so he searched the whole earth to see who would save us from the powerful grip of sin.
He searched under the earth, he searched the earth, above the earth, even in the heavens, but noone was willing to sacrifice their life to be the bridge that reconciles us back to God.
So Jesus came forth and decided to bridge the gap between us and God, delivering us from the power of the consequences of sin, which is death. And he ransomed us from the power of the grave by dying himself. He died a physical death to deliver us from a spiritual death.
Now the death here isn’t talking about physical death because everyone will die someday. It’s talking about the spiritual death.
“…That whosoever believes in him, will not perish…”
The only access to the Kingdom of God is believing in Jesus Christ. Believing his real and believing that he can deliver you from that battle you’re currently fighting.
If you seek him with all sincerity, I promise you that he would show up.
God answers prayers and accepts whoever is willing to lay down their sins and come boldly unto the throne of Grace and Obtain mercy.
It doesn’t matter who you are or what you’ve done. He would gladly accept you.
If you’re interested in giving your life to Christ… …Just put your hand on your chest and say, “Lord Jesus, I heard you’re real. This might seem crazy but I want you to show yourself in my life. I accept you as my Lord and Savior. Come into my messy life and help me. I ask for your forgiveness and mercy. I’m not a very good person but I want to be a good person, show me mercy Lord. As of today, I denounce every identity that doesn’t represent you. Thank you, Jesus, because I’m a new creature. Hallelujah”
