The Wrath of the Unchained-Chapter 105 - Crimson Skies

The Kingdom of Nuri had grown in ways few could have imagined. What was once a cluster of loosely allied villages had become a thriving realm. Roads now wove through the kingdom like veins, connecting towns, markets, and newly formed settlements. Communication posts, built every ten kilometers, ensured that no message ever took more than a few hours to reach its destination—a marvel that impressed even the elders.

Trade thrived under the strength of the Nuru coin, which was now widely accepted even beyond their borders. Sickness, once a grim reaper that swept through villages, had become rare thanks to improved hygiene and better medical understanding. Schools dotted the towns, and each day children recited proverbs, practiced language, and learned business ethics—preparing not just for survival, but for prosperity.

And now, with the rise of the elite forces like the Shadow Guard, the youth of Nuri had more choices than ever. One could serve in the internal army under General Simiyu, protect the seas with General Malik, patrol and gather intelligence with the Watchers under Captain Shikuku, or now, join Mkono wa Giza—Naliaka and Ndengu’s newly rising force.

Excitement buzzed through training camps, and many saw enlistment not just as a duty, but a chance to be part of something greater.

But peace was never guaranteed.

Far to the coast, under a cloudy sky, red smoke billowed on the horizon.

Panic followed.

Children screamed. Women dropped baskets of wares. Merchants scrambled to shut their stalls, and the streets near the shoreline became a chaotic river of people. The signal was unmistakable: the pirates were here.

"Everyone to the shelters!" Watchers shouted, their uniforms catching the light as they guided the masses with urgency. Over the past few months, the Watchers expanded their operations to the coast as well to help with internal security.

A woman clutched her daughter close. "Where’s your father?" she cried.

The little girl sobbed, "He’s out at sea!"

Shikuku’s Watchers moved efficiently, lifting children, helping the elderly, directing people down the stone steps into coastal shelters.

Some of the younger Watchers trembled but held firm, jaws clenched. Others barked orders with experience carved into their brows.

Inside the shelters, the atmosphere was thick with fear. Mothers wept silently. Fathers stared at the walls, fists clenched. Elders whispered prayers. Children cried or clung to their siblings. And yet, somewhere in that fear, hope smoldered.

"They’ve trained for this," one woman whispered. "They’ll protect us."

At the shoreline, King Lusweti stood tall, his eyes locked on the horizon. Beside him were Naliaka and Ndengu. Though brave and battle-tested on land, both felt a quiet unease.

"I should’ve trained more at sea," Ndengu muttered, fists clenched.

"We’ll do what we can here," Naliaka said. "We’ll stop any who make it ashore. That’s our fight."

The King nodded, his face firm. "Then let them come."

A long, thunderous horn blared.

General Malik, aboard his flagship The Nguvu ya Bahari, raised his sword to the wind.

"The pirates have arrived," General Malik muttered grimly, adjusting the dark blue sash that marked him as commander of Nuri’s navy.

"Thirty ships," Captain Mustafa, one of his sharpest lieutenants, reported, scanning through his spyglass. "At least. Maybe more hidden beyond the fog. They’re flying different banners—must be a coalition of crews."

General Malik didn’t flinch. "Then they’ll die together."

"This is it," he said. "Let no pirate set foot on our land."

The navy, with its rows of gleaming ships, unfurled the Nuri flag. The emblem—a sun lay in the midst of red and blue—danced proudly in the sea wind.

Cannons were locked. Harpoons readied. Archers found their stances. Below deck, soldiers whispered their last prayers.

Young messengers, those coveted runners of the kingdom’s new communication posts, brought constant updates from the coast into central Nuri, giving people something to hold on to.

The pirates came fast—thirty ships in all, scattered and disorganized, their flags a patchwork of insignias. They laughed and jeered at the Nuri ships, shouting crude insults across the water.

"They think they can fight us with their toys!" one captain bellowed.

"Look at these farm boys trying to play navy!" another mocked.

But General Malik heard none of it. He raised his hand.

"Signal Formation 1!" he barked.

Four great drums pounded aboard the lead ships, a low, thunderous rhythm. Colored flags hoisted into the air—green, then red, then white. Commanders along the defensive line mimicked the sequence, forming the first wall of resistance.

"Hold your line!" General Malik shouted. "First row—target the lead ships!"

The navy aligned into four defensive rows, each line led by a seasoned commander. If the first faltered, the second would rise. If the second broke, the third would cut through. They were a wall of steel and determination.

A young soldier aboard the third line, barely twenty, clutched his spear. "I’ve never fought at sea," he said.

His comrade beside him, older, grizzled, grinned. "You’ll be fine. Just stay low, aim true. And don’t fall in. You have trained for this."

The young man laughed shakily. "I just want to make it home."

Then the cannons fired.

Smoke and flame ripped through the sky as the two fleets clashed.

Explosions rocked the water, splinters of wood raining down. The archers on the Nuri ships loosed flaming arrows that found their mark in pirate sails. Harpoons tore into hulls. Molotov grenades burst on deck, setting sails ablaze.

Four lines of defense. Four chances to break the pirates before they touched the coast.

Captain Achieng of the Uhuru ship steadied her crew. "Remember the drills! You don’t move unless I say! Let them come. We’ll make fish food out of them."

Nearby, young navy recruit Obado swallowed hard. It was his first real battle. The salt clung to his lips, but his hands trembled not from the wind, but fear.

"We’ll be alright," whispered the seasoned sailor beside him. "You fight like we trained, boy. For Nuri."

On The Nguvu ya Bahari, General Malik fought like a whirlwind. When a pirate ship rammed theirs, he was the first to board, his sword slicing down. A pirate lunged at him—Malik ducked low, swept his leg, and drove his blade into the man’s chest.

"Push them back!" he roared. "No mercy!"

One of his lieutenants, Captain Obuya, was surrounded. "Malik!" he cried.

Malik charged through, cleaving a path. Obuya was bleeding from his arm, but alive.

"Keep fighting," Malik said. "We lose no one today!"

But not all made it.

A young recruit named Mohammed, in his first battle, took a bullet to the chest. He fell without a sound.

His best friend, Opiyo, screamed. "Mohammed!"

In a blind rage, Opiyo grabbed two blades and leapt across the deck, carving his way into the pirates. He fought like a demon, his grief fueling every blow.

One pirate captain tried to rally his crew, shouting, "They’re just boys—!"

An arrow lodged in his throat. A Nuri archer, face painted in navy blue, nodded grimly.

The tide turned.

"Formation Two!" Malik shouted.

The encirclement began. Nuri ships moved like a net tightening around the pirates. Confusion spread through the enemy fleet.

Some pirate ships closed in, grappling hooks flying. Pirates scrambled aboard the Uhuru.

Captain Achieng met them with twin scimitars.

"You made a mistake coming here," she hissed.

She carved through them with elegance and fury, flipping across the deck like a dancer soaked in blood. Her crew rallied behind her, forcing the pirates back overboard.

On the Simba, Commander Mwamba ducked beneath a swing and plunged his spear into a pirate’s chest. "These seas belong to Nuri now!"

Back on the Nguvu ya Bahari, Malik watched the chaos with a keen eye. He pointed his saber toward the largest pirate ship, The Bone Raven.

"Target the flagship. It’ll break their morale."

They let loose everything—harpoons, firebombs, cannon rounds. The enemy flagship buckled under the assault.

Malik’s voice cut through the din. "Now—boarding crew with me!"

They launched grappling hooks and swung over. Malik landed hard on the Bone Raven, cutting down three pirates before they could draw their pistols. His sword gleamed with polished steel and firelight.

The pirate captain—a hulking brute with golden teeth and a crimson coat—met him with a grin.

"You think you’re sailors? You’re lambs."

Malik lunged. Their blades met in a clash of sparks. Blow after blow echoed across the deck. Malik ducked a pistol shot, rolled, and came up with his blade to the pirate’s throat.

"We’re lions."

He slashed, clean and fast.

The Bone Raven began to burn behind him.

"Fall back! Fall—"

A cannonball ripped through the pirate ship mid-command. Flames rose.

One ship tried to flee, but two Nuri vessels boxed it in. Swords clashed, blood spilled. But the pirates were outmatched.

As the remaining pirate ships tried to retreat, Commander Mwamba raised a white flare. "Capture the intact ones!"

Grappling teams secured at least eight pirate ships, their crews surrendered or dead.

The rest sank beneath the waves.

Cheers erupted from the navy.

Malik stood at the prow of his ship, his coat soaked in sweat and blood, watching as the last pirate ship lowered its flag.

"Secure the survivors," he said "The ships that can sail—add them to our fleet. Let them know what power truly looks like."

Back at the shore, as smoke curled into the sky, Naliaka squinted.

"They did it," she whispered.

Ndengu crossed his arms. "Next time, we’ll be ready too."

King Lusweti said nothing for a long moment. Then he nodded.

"They will sing of this day."

And in the shelters, when the all-clear bell tolled, the citizens of Nuri emerged with tear-streaked faces and trembling relief. Cheers erupted. Families ran to embrace their returning soldiers.

It was a victory.

But it came with the cost of blood.

And in the hearts of Nuri’s people, it solidified one truth:

They were no longer just survivors.

They were protectors. Builders. Warriors.

Nuri had risen—and the world would remember it.