At that very moment, Sumendu was locked in combat with a foot soldier who was lunging forward, trying to impale him with a spear. Out of the corner of his eye, Sumendu noticed the General thundering toward him. In one swift and decisive motion, he thrust his sword forward, slashing across the soldier's torso. The man collapsed instantly, falling away from Sumendu's horse.
Just as the soldier dropped, Sumendu raised his guard.
The Enemy General's sword was already descending—his arm lifted high above his head, bringing the blade down in a brutal arc meant to sever Sumendu's neck in a single crushing blow.
But Sumendu reacted with lightning speed.
With a swift movement of the reins, he guided his horse sharply to the left, gliding out of the path of the deadly strike. The General's blade sliced through empty air.
In the very same motion, Sumendu swung his own sword.
The blade cut across the General's arm with savage precision. Blood burst forth as the wound split open, and the sudden shock forced the General to release his grip.
His sword slipped from his hand and fell to the ground below.
At the same time, Diya had only one person in her mind.
The conspirator.
The man who had destroyed her life, betrayed her father, and plunged the kingdom into chaos—her own uncle, and Sumendu's father. He sat on horseback beside the Enemy King, watching the battle unfold.
But as Diya carved her way through the battlefield with terrifying fury, the Enemy King realized the danger. Seeing her unstoppable advance, he decided to confront her himself. With a sharp pull of the reins, he urged his horse forward and signaled a direct charge toward Diya.
Yet Diya had no intention of fighting the King.
Her eyes were locked on only one man.
As the King approached, Diya glanced briefly over her shoulder toward one of her most trusted lieutenants—an aging but fiercely loyal warrior who had once served as one of her father's personal guards. Their eyes met for only a moment.
That was enough.
The old soldier immediately understood her intention. Without hesitation, he drove his horse forward, charging directly between Diya and the Enemy King, intercepting the royal advance. Steel clashed as he engaged the King, buying the moment Diya needed.
At the same instant, Diya veered sharply away from the King's path.
Like a bolt of lightning, she redirected her horse and stormed toward the conspirator.
The man froze.
Though his hand rested on the hilt of his sword, shock and fear had drained the strength from his body. He stared at Diya in stunned disbelief as she thundered toward him, her rage blazing in her eyes.
From across the battlefield, Sumendu saw the maneuver unfold.
Even from that distance, a terrible certainty gripped him. Deep in his gut, he knew exactly what was about to happen.
Then Diya let out a blood-curdling roar.
She surged forward, her horse racing straight toward the man who had destroyed everything she loved. The conspirator tried to react—his sword barely halfway drawn—but it was far too late.
In a single, fluid motion, Diya's sword flashed upward with lightning speed.
The blade sliced cleanly through his neck.
For those who witnessed it, it happened so fast it seemed unreal—one swift arc of steel, one precise strike. The conspirator's head separated from his body and tumbled to the ground as Diya rode past without slowing.
Behind her, the headless body swayed for a moment before slowly collapsing from the horse.
The battlefield fell into stunned silence.
Soldiers on both sides stared in disbelief at what had just happened.
Diya slowed her horse and turned slightly, her eyes falling upon the lifeless body of the man who had once been her uncle. A strange storm of emotions surged through her—rage, grief, relief, and something far heavier than victory.
Across the battlefield, Sumendu watched in shock.
The man who had just died... was his father.
For a moment, he could not move.
The enemy army, witnessing the fall of the conspirator and the unstoppable fury of the defenders, began to lose its will to fight. Their ranks wavered. Fear spread like wildfire through the lines.
Then the breaking point came.
Soldiers began to retreat.
Seeing the collapse of his forces, the Enemy King realized the battle was lost for the day. Reluctantly, he raised his banner and signaled the order to withdraw.
The horns of retreat echoed across the battlefield as the enemy army pulled back.
As they fled, Diya's soldiers erupted into shouts of victory, their voices rising in triumphant slogans that rolled across the plains.
But amidst the celebration, two people stood silent.
Sumendu.
And Diya.
For them, this victory carried a weight far heavier than triumph.