One Man Army

A dim space? No, it wasn't a room. This place was cold, dark, eerie, and above all, scorching. My steps reverberated endlessly in the area I found myself in. Strangely, I was barefoot, traversing dry dirt. Here and there, I'd encounter a small rock, but it caused no pain.

"Why is there an echo when I'm walking barefoot on dirt?" I pondered aloud, feeling a hint of sweat that soon escalated. The once-dirt transformed into sand as I continued walking, seemingly into a pitch-black void.

"Hello! Is anyone there?" I shouted at the top of my lungs. Despite covering several kilometers in one direction, exhaustion eluded me. I discarded my shirt to combat the unbearable heat, akin to the hottest sunlit day without water or shade. Squatting down, I touched the sand, now not only hot and soft but also incredibly hot and sharp, with shards of tiny glass.

For several long hours, I traversed this void of nothingness. Eventually, I reached a rock surface even hotter than the preceding sand. Strangely, there was only pain; no damage to my feet, and fatigue remained elusive. The air was stifling, hard to breathe, yet I could vaguely perceive a misty red fog around me. To alleviate the heat, I tore the bottom of my pants, but it didn't work. So, I discarded everything and walked fully naked, finding relief.

My journey paused at a colossal black metal gate bearing a sign that ominously declared, "Abandon all hope, ye who enter here."

"Prince Nebu, wake up... wake up, my prince," Sumai said, gently tapping my shoulder. We were stationed on a massive wall just outside the city, well past midnight.

"Sumai? Where am I? Where's the gate?"

"It seems you drifted off while awaiting the enemy. You must've been dreaming. Prince Nebu, please stay here. I'm already defying the king's orders by bringing you to this ambush."

"Hush, Sumai. I've made it clear; you are my muscle, and no one will replace you, not as long as you're alive. Besides, I believe witnessing war firsthand is crucial for my path to kingship. And Sumai, I know you wouldn't have brought me along if you didn't think we could win."

"You are very perceptive for your age, my prince," Sumai acknowledged, turning to observe the approaching enemy.

In the distance, a force of approximately 150 marched toward our great city. They seemed to underestimate us, a miscalculation that would cost them a hundred soldiers. Sumai had informed me that the Assyrian empire's numbers exceeded 100,000. This small army was perceived as an insult to Babylon, particularly enraging Sumai, who considered it disrespectful on the battlefield.

As the Assyrians neared the wall, Sumai faced our side. Despite our forces numbering 700 strong, Sumai had a different plan.

"Now!" he screamed.

Two hundred archers stepped forward, taking aim and releasing their arrows. Fifty arrows were set ablaze and fired once more.

"Men, ready your blades, shields, and spears. As we approach the wall leading into Babylon, remember to stick to the plan!" Rabona shouted, donning his helmet with a gasp. His hard work bringing his men this far was about to pay off.

"We may be a small army, but Babylon isn't renowned for a formidable force; their numbers barely reach 2000. 150 against 2000 may seem impossible, but it's Babylon!" Rabona whispered under his breath, concluding with a historical laugh, mocking Babylon's might.

"... What was that?" shouted a soldier. Sounds pierced the ground left, right, then left again, doubling and tripling. Men clashed to their knees.

"It's an attack!" a soldier yelled. "Arrows!" another soldier shouted. "Men, use your shields!" Rabona ordered, looking up to see arrows ablaze. All he could do was brace along with his men.

When the volley of arrows ceased, Rabona ordered his men to rise. The moon illuminated the battlefield, revealing the toll of the attack. Roughly half, if not less, of his men stood.

"My forces have been cut in half. Perhaps there's still a way to turn this around. They managed to kill all our archers," Rabona proclaimed.

Men from within the walls swarmed out, holding torches to illuminate around the entrance. Only one man carried a long spear, shield, and sheathed sword.

"Men, march cautiously forward, do not raise your swords," Rabona ordered, approaching the wall and finding himself a short distance from the man with weapons, Sumai.

"You dare attack my men when we come in peace? Are you trying to start a war with the empire, you insolent bunch?" Rabona said.

Sumai responded in silence.

"Very well. If you don't lay down your weapons, we will be forced to charge you, and the empire will hear how you rejected our mercy," Rabona threatened.

Again, Sumai replied in silence, prompting Rabona's irritation.

"Are you listening, you idiot? Talk to your king and tell him of the consequences! Is your tongue not working, boy?" Rabona yelled.

Sumai took slow steps closer to the general, towering over him. Rabona lifted his sword, pointing it at Sumai, and screamed, "Don't come any closer, you freak!"

Despite Rabona's plea, Sumai continued to walk. Wearing warrior's armor and a Spartan-like helmet.Legend has it that Sumai's grandfather was a Spartan, and thus, a warrior's blood flowed through the family. In a grim parallel to the Spartan tradition, Sumai's father cast two unworthy baby brothers off a cliff. Like his father, Sumai faced a similar choice once, and of all the lives he had taken, that particular decision haunted him the most.

Stepping closer, Sumai swung his sword heavily, slicing through the air. Rabona attempted to block with his sword, resulting in a loud clash that resonated in every soldier's ears, Assyrian army included. Sumai's strength prevailed, shattering Rabona's sword and slicing through his face. Rabona fell in battle, courtesy of the formidable Sumai.

In the distance, Prince Nebuchadnezzar observed in awe as his 'muscle' cleanly bifurcated the general's face. Such strength surpassed ordinary capabilities, a realization that dawned on every witness.

Without hesitation, the Assyrian army charged with vengeance, screams of anger and battle cries echoing. Unfazed, Sumai awaited the remaining 50 or so soldiers to enter his striking distance. It was a spectacle; no matter how many adversaries confronted Sumai, he relentlessly gave the army hell.

Sumai's resilience against the highly trained Assyrians was astonishing. With each swing, he efficiently took down at least one opponent, leaving no one within his range safe.

"Just what kind of bodyguard is Sumai?" I marveled as I found a better angle atop the wall, witnessing his ruthless efficiency. None of our soldiers made a move, showcasing their confidence in Sumai's unparalleled skill. It was a display of swordsmanship like no other, arguably the best I had ever seen. Whether it counted in my past life remained uncertain, but the level of skill and experience was truly remarkable.

"Right, I've made up my mind. Sumai, you and your bloodline will be my most trusted guards. Perhaps you'll have to show me a thing or two with a sword, but I doubt I'll ever get that good," I declared.

As I spoke, I noticed Sumai down to his last three opponents. He turned to look in my direction, winking with a subtle acknowledgment. Picking up his spear, he threw it with immense strength at one of the soldiers, sending him flying until the spear pierced the ground. Sumai then approached the remaining two.

Ducking a swing from one soldier, Sumai executed a countermove, sweeping his sword to completely slice the soldier's legs. The last standing opponent dropped to his knees, weapons discarded. Sumai seized his two arms and, with a forceful kick, effectively tore them off.

Sumai spared no one and showed no mercy. The battle was gruesome and frightening, prompting me to vomit at the sight. After composing myself, I wiped my mouth and looked back at Sumai, determined not to reveal any sign of weakness as I aspired to lead an army or even a nation someday.