The Wrath of the Unchained-Chapter 134- The Winds of Farewell

It was finally time to depart.

The port of Assab, once quiet and broken, was now alive with emotion. The Shadows were scattered across the docks, exchanging tight hugs and final words with the friends they had made. Many had trained side by side with the local navy, formed bonds over long patrols, late-night sparring, shared meals, and quiet moments beneath the stars.

To the people of Assab, the Shadow Guard were not just elite soldiers—they were legends come to life. And now, they were family.

A few of the younger female soldiers cried openly, watching their idols walk toward the ship. One tried to hide her tears behind a raised salute, but her voice broke as she spoke.

"We’ll make you proud," she choked out. "We’ll be the best soldiers the navy has ever seen. That’s a promise."

Ndengu clapped a hand on her shoulder gently. "You already make us proud. Your strength is in your heart. Hold on to that."

Nia offered a small grin and handed over her armguard to one of the girls. "This got me through my first real fight. Let it remind you that fear is normal. Courage is moving anyway."

There were cheers, laughter, and quiet sobs. One older fisherman who Khisa had once rescued from a gang of corrupt port guards limped forward, offering a hand carved wooden box.

"I never got to say thank you properly," he said, voice gruff with emotion. "You changed everything, boy. For me. For my granddaughter. For all of us."

Khisa took the box with reverence and bowed slightly. "You owe me nothing. You gave me your trust when I was a stranger."

"And now you leave as a brother," the old man said firmly.

Inside the command room of the naval tower, Khisa sat beside Commander Tesfaye for one last meeting.

"So, it’s finally time for farewell," Tesfaye said, swirling the bitter tea in his cup. "You and I have been through a lot these past few months."

Khisa smiled, nodding. "Yes, we have. Thank you, Tesfaye. Without you, none of this would’ve been possible. You gave me your trust when I hadn’t yet earned it. I’m grateful."

Tesfaye shook his head, a rare softness in his usually stern eyes. "You give me too much credit, Khisa. Abyssinia is still standing because of you. You brought a vision where I only saw duty. We’ve grown—more than I ever imagined. And you reminded me of something I had forgotten: hope."

They clasped forearms in silent understanding.

"Let’s go over the war preparations one more time," Khisa said.

"Of course."

They sat for another hour, reviewing routes, troop movements, contingency plans, and the latest updates on slaver activity. Tesfaye promised to maintain the trade routes and send reinforcements should Nuri ever need them.

As the sun dipped lower, Khisa made his way to Azenet. He found her by the upper tower balcony, where the ocean met the horizon in streaks of gold.

He held her hands, gently. "I’ll be back as quickly as I can. Every moment away from you will feel too long."

Azenet looked up at him, eyes shining but strong. "I’ll hold you to that. Just don’t take too long. I’ve gotten used to hearing your voice every evening."

He kissed her forehead, lingering just a little longer. "I’m already counting the days."

As Khisa turned to leave Azenet on the balcony, she reached into the folds of her dress and pulled out a small, tightly wrapped bundle.

"I almost forgot," she said, pressing it into his hands. "Open it when you’re alone. Not now."

Khisa looked at her curiously, then tucked it safely into his coat. "What is it?"

"A charm," she replied, voice softer now. "From my mother. She gave it to me when I was little, before her last journey. I’ve carried it ever since."

"Azenet... I can’t—"

"You can," she said firmly, interrupting him. "You carry so much on your shoulders already. Let this be something that carries you."

He wanted to say more, but the look in her eyes quieted him. He nodded, clutching the bundle as if it were more fragile than any weapon he’d ever held.

When he descended to the docks, the massive Nuri ship waited, sails ready to catch the wind. The whole city seemed to have gathered—fishermen, merchants, navy officers, children with handmade flags, mothers with babies wrapped to their backs, even former rebels he had pardoned.

There were cheers and tears.

"Long live Prince Khisa!"

"Safe journey!"

"Don’t forget us!"

One young boy broke through the crowd, holding up a drawing he had made of Khisa fighting a slaver lord.

"You’re my hero!" he shouted, eyes wide.

Khisa bent down and took the drawing. "You’re mine," he replied with a smile. "Grow strong. This land will need dreamers like you."

At the forefront stood Prince Tadesse, arms crossed with mock seriousness. fɾēewebnσveℓ.com

"Are you sure you don’t want me as backup?" he said loudly, raising a brow. "You know these days my swordsmanship is better than yours."

The crowd laughed, and the mood lifted.

Khisa smirked. "No, I’m sure your sister will protect you if need be."

"Come on!" Tadesse cried in mock outrage. "I’m definitely a better swordsman."

"I’ve seen you try to lift Ndengu’s axe. You almost sprained your back."

More laughter.

Khisa’s expression softened. "Tadesse, you’ve done well. Truly. You’ve risen far beyond what anyone expected. I’m looking forward to seeing the kind of Emperor you’ll become."

Tadesse’s usual grin faded to something more sincere. He held Khisa’s arm tight. "Make it back to us. You still owe me a rematch. And... we need you."

"I’ll return," Khisa said. "That’s a promise."

The final horn blew, deep and echoing over the waves.

Khisa turned, gave one last look at the faces that had become part of his journey, and boarded the ship.

As the sails filled and the vessel pulled away, he stood at the edge of the deck, watching Azenet shrink in the distance, her shawl billowing in the wind, her hand raised in silent farewell.

He held her gaze until the shore was only a memory.

Later, as the ship cut through the water and the land faded behind them, Khisa finally unwrapped the gift. Inside was a small woven amulet, stitched with golden thread and a single bead of lapis at the center.

Tucked in the lining was a slip of parchment.

Come back to me.

He closed his fingers around it and held it to his chest, wind tugging at his cloak, heart full.

The journey to Nuri had begun.