The Mongol camp was a place of noise, steel, and screaming horses. But deep within the center of the royal tents, there was a place of unnatural silence. Ten years had passed since the day the iron screw entered Ulfat's hand, and in those ten years, the boy who cried for mercy had been buried under layers of cold stone.
Ulfat ul Baet, now eighteen years old, sat in a private library that the Khan had built specifically for him. To the Mongol warriors outside, books were just fuel for fires. To Ulfat, they were the blueprints for their destruction.
He was currently reading a thick, leather-bound book on Psychology and the Mechanics of Power. As a child of eight, he used to dream of reading simple adventure stories with his father. Now, his eyes only searched for the weaknesses of the human mind. He studied how to break a man's spirit without touching his body. He studied how empires fell from the inside.
The heavy silk curtain of the library moved. The air grew cold. Ulfat didn't need to look up to know who it was. The heavy, rhythmic step belonged to only one man.
Uktai Khan stood over him, his shadow covering the pages of the book. The Khan looked older, his beard streaked with grey, but his yellow eyes were still sharp.
"I have given you everything a man could want," the Khan said, his voice a low growl.
"I gave you the finest armor. I gave you a horse that can outrun the wind. I gave you the right to kill any man who looks at you wrongly. So why do you still sit here with these dusty papers? Why do you choose books over the blade?"
Ulfat didn't flinch. He slowly turned a page. His voice was calm, like a deep well. "Because the blade only cuts the skin, my Master. But knowledge... knowledge rules the soul. Books are my hobby because they are the only things in this camp that do not lie."
The Khan narrowed his eyes. "Knowledge will not save you from a Japanese Katana. We have an upcoming war with the Samurai of the East. They are not like the broken men of the Steppe. They are warriors of honor and steel."
Ulfat finally looked up. His face was a mask of cold indifference. "I am ready for any war you send me to, Master."
"We shall see," the Khan replied. "But for now, leave your scrolls. Your friend is waiting for you at the cafeteria. He has been complaining about your absence."
The Only Friend
Ulfat stood up. He was tall now, his frame lean but packed with the hard muscle of a survivor. He walked through the camp, his Mongol soldier's uniform clicking with every step.
In the large dining hall, the smell of roasted meat and fermented drink was overwhelming. At a central table sat a man who stood out from the rest. He was Wasabi Watayama. Wasabi was a Japanese warrior who had joined the Mongols years ago. He was the Second-in-Command of the elite forces and a legendary player in the Khan's wars.
As soon as Wasabi saw Ulfat, a giant grin broke across his face. He stood up and pulled Ulfat into a massive hug, clapping him on the back.
"ULFAAT! My brother!" Wasabi shouted, ignoring the serious looks of the other soldiers. "I've been sitting here for twenty minutes! You know I can't enjoy my lunch without my favorite grumpy scholar!"
Ulfat's serious face cracked for just a second. A small, dark smirk appeared on his lips. "You bastard. Can't you eat a single piece of bread without me holding your hand?"
They sat down. The table showed the clear boundary between them. Wasabi had a plate piled high with horse meat and marrow. Ulfat had a simple plate of grains, vegetables, and meat prepared according to his strict Halal requirements.
As Ulfat ate, his mind drifted into the past.
Flashback:
He remembered a day five years ago. Uktai Khan had been in a drunken rage. He had raised a heavy iron mace to strike Ulfat for a minor mistake. But Wasabi had stepped in. Wasabi, a high-ranking commander, had dropped to his knees and bowed his head to the mud—a thing Ulfat was too proud to do. Wasabi had taken the blow meant for Ulfat. He had been beaten until his back was red, just to protect the boy.
Back in the present, Ulfat looked at Wasabi. "You saved me", Ulfat thought". You took my pain upon yourself. Even though you wear that armor, you are the only one here who still has a soul. But you are still my enemy. You serve the man who killed my world."
"You're staring at my food again, Ulfat," Wasabi laughed, breaking the silence. "I know you hate it. I don't think I could ever eat your rabbit food either. It's a miracle we are friends at all."
Wasabi leaned in closer, his face becoming serious. "So, have you decided? Are you going to lead a squad into the Samurai war? Or are you just going to sit in that tent and draw maps? You won't become a great man by hiding in the shadows, my friend."
Ulfat took a slow sip of water. "I have not decided yet. When does the war begin?"
"In three days," Wasabi whispered. "The ships are already being prepared."
Ulfat's heart skipped a beat, but his face remained like stone. Three days? he thought." The Khan didn't tell me that. He fears me. He doesn't want me to have time to prepare a plan of my own. But Wasabi... Wasabi trusts me too much. He doesn't realize he just gave me the most dangerous weapon of all Information."
The Power in the Shadow
After lunch, the two men walked toward the underground base where the elite supplies were kept. The hallways were narrow and dim, lit by torches that cast long, dancing shadows.
As they turned a corner, a massive Mongol soldier, drunk on fermented milk and power, bumped hard into Ulfat's shoulder. The soldier was a brute, nearly seven feet tall, covered in scars.
"Watch where you're going, scholar boy!" the brute roared. He didn't care that Wasabi was there. He hated Ulfat. He hated that a "slave" had been given books and a title. The brute raised a massive fist, intending to crush Ulfat's face.
Ulfat didn't move his body. He didn't reach for his sword. As the fist flew toward him, Ulfat simply stepped an inch to the left. The move was so small it was almost invisible. He caught the brute's wrist with one hand and, with a move of perfect timing, delivered a devastating headbutt directly to the bridge of the soldier's nose.
CRACK.
The sound of bone breaking echoed through the stone hallway. The giant soldier didn't even scream; his eyes rolled back, and he collapsed into the dirt like a felled tree.
Ulfat stood over him, breathing calmly. He straightened his collar and didn't look back.
Wasabi stood frozen. He looked at the unconscious giant and then at Ulfat's retreating back. Wasabi had seen many warriors, but he had never seen power like that—power that was kept perfectly hidden until the very last second.
"He has so much strength", Wasabi thought, a chill running down his spine." He could challenge the Khan himself if he wanted to. So why does he choose to stay in the shadows? What is he waiting for?"
As they walked deeper into the darkness of the base, Ulfat touched the Blue Scarf hidden beneath his iron chest plate.
Three days, Ulfat thought. In three days, the world will start to burn. And I will be the one holding the match.