The Lost king

The battlefield lies silent in the thick morning fog. The rebel alliance — warriors from Ayo, Ibadi, Ondolu, Irebu, and Owulo — stand ready in tight formations. The tension is heavy. Spears tremble in firm grips. Some whisper prayers, others grit their teeth. In the center, Yemi, now wearing Chief Alade's old battle cloak, steps forward. He climbs a low rise above the valley. All eyes turn to him.

His sword rises slowly, then swiftly — the war horn blasts.

The valley erupts into chaos.

Steel clashes. Arrows tear through the skies. The Ojora Empire's forces, larger and well-armed, sweep down the hills like fire. But the rebels respond with lightning precision — thanks to Yemi's plan.

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Yemi's Strategy – The Trap Unfolds

Before dawn, Yemi had divided his fighters into three coordinated lines:

The front charge: A distraction of loud, aggressive fighters (led by Ayomide and Akinmule).

The flank teams: Hidden behind tall grass, ready to spring side attacks.

The trap zone: A section of forest laced with oil-soaked trenches, hidden spike pits, and falling log traps.

When the Ojora forces push forward arrogantly, Yemi gives a sharp whistle. The trap triggers:

Burning oil floods the front line, scattering their advance.

Several soldiers fall into concealed pits.

Flaming logs crash down, cutting off their retreat.

"Let them taste what we've prepared," Yemi growls, as the tide of war begins to shift.

 Adeola's POV:

"The battlefield swallows sound. Only breath, steel, and fire remain."

Adeola pushes into the enemy lines, his blade slicing in smooth, clean arcs. His movements echo the legacy of King Abiola. For a brief second, his sword glows faintly—ancestral power humming through its edge.

A general in gold lunges at him—Adeola blocks, spins, and slashes in one fluid motion. The man drops.

> Enemy soldier whispers:

"He fights like the king…"

Scene 2 – Voices of War

Moremi dances through the battlefield, each strike like rhythm from a drum. She's graceful, deadly, and untamed. Her blade carves a path, and she spares none.

Bayo leads the Ibadi warriors with fierce discipline, forming wedge formations to trap Ojora lieutenants. When a rebel stumbles, he shields them. His voice booms across the lines.

> Bayo's POV:

"For Ibadi. For peace. For the second chance I thought I'd never get."

Akinmule moves like a war god—roaring as he breaks shield walls, crushing enemies with wild precision. His face is smeared with blood and memory.

Damilola flips and ducks between bodies, swift like a forest wind. Her twin blades flash—she saves two rebels, but then slips. From behind, a soldier strikes—

Femi blocks the blade just in time. They fall beside each other, panting.

> Their eyes meet.

No words. Just recognition. Just truth.

Femi's POV:

"I won't let her fall. Not again. Not ever."

Scene 3 – The Turning Point

Elsewhere, Adebayo commands a savage counterattack. He rides through the battlefield like fire incarnate, cleaving rebels with brutal strength. His eyes search for Moremi, haunted by their history.

But the rebel formation does not crumble—it adapts.

Moremi & Adeola's Moment

Surrounded, Moremi casts a protective ward, but it fails — a sword grazes her side. She stumbles. Adeola crashes in, taking down two attackers with primal power. Back-to-back, they fight in harmony. They take cover behind a ruined wall.

She breathes heavily. He looks at her wound, worried.

Moremi: "You always show up when the fight nears death." Adeola: "Then you should stop rushing into death."

She chuckles faintly. Then, without a word, she leans in and kisses him — brief, fierce. A promise.

They rise — and charge back into the fray.

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Back in the Empire

Adekunle, in his high command tent, watches the battle burn. Enraged, he turns to Bankode. "Your beast failed. Your shadows are weak."

Bankode smiles slowly:

> "The storm is just beginning. You haven't paid the full price yet."

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Dream and Dread

Later, in the quiet of night, Adekunle stands alone. The battle is still. Fires crackle.

He dreams:

King Abiola, spectral and glowing, stares at him. Behi

nd him stands Adeola, holding his father's sword — watching in silence.

Adekunle wakes in a cold sweat.

:

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🔥

The rebels rise.

The empire strikes.

And the battlefield drinks the blood of prophecy.

Yemi sets the trap.

Adeola fights like the son of a legend.

Bayo defends a homeland in flames.

Moremi spills fury and grace in equal measure.

Femi… finally stands his ground.

And Tunde?

He's still waiting to break what's left.

But beneath every blade swing lies a question:

How much must be lost… before peace is earned?

> "You always show up when the fight nears death."

"Then stop rushing into death."

The war has found its voice.

And it screams.

#TheLostKing | © 2025 Idris Bilal Adavize

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