Capítulo 5: Chapter 5:Tower of Judgement 2
Káòṣù's entrance into the grand hall was not merely a physical movement; it was a moment that seemed to transcend the ordinary. As he crossed the threshold, there was a perceptible shift in the atmosphere, as if the air itself crackled with a newfound energy. It was as though the very fabric of reality responded to his presence, vibrating with an intensity that sent shivers down the spines of those gathered within.
The onlookers, seated in their respective positions of authority and observation, couldn't help but be drawn into the orbit of this mysterious newcomer. There was an aura of intrigue surrounding Káòṣù, an intangible quality that set him apart from the rest and captured the imagination of all who beheld him.
As he moved through the hall, every eye was trained upon him, following his every step with rapt attention. Whispers of speculation and rumor circulated among the assembled, each voice adding to the mounting anticipation that filled the room.
For those present, Káòṣù represented a enigma waiting to be unraveled, a puzzle whose pieces had yet to be put together. His arrival injected a dose of excitement into an otherwise routine gathering, sparking a flurry of curiosity and speculation among the attendees.
In that moment, the grand hall became charged with an electric energy, pulsating with the promise of revelation and discovery. It was as if time itself held its breath, waiting to see what secrets Káòṣù held within him and how they would shape the course of events to come.
Though they could not see his face, obscured as it was by the shadow of his lowered head, they could sense the strength and determination that radiated from him like a beacon in the darkness. There was something about him, something that set him apart from the rest, and they found themselves drawn to him despite their reservations.
The wise ones who presided over the chamber watched with keen interest as Káòṣù entered, their expressions unreadable behind the masks of authority they wore. They had heard whispers of the man who now stood before them, rumours that spoke of his extraordinary abilities and the trials he had faced on his journey to this hallowed place. And yet, they could not help but feel a twinge of uncertainty in the presence of this unknown quantity.
As Káòṣù raised his head at their command, the room fell silent save for the soft rustle of fabric and the steady beat of his heart. Those who had seen him before—General Ọkwụlụọcha and Adéjinéré among them—exchanged knowing glances, confirming the truth of the rumours that had preceded his arrival. But for the others, his appearance was a revelation, a confirmation of the stories they had dismissed as mere fantasy.
With a solemn nod from the wise ones, the interrogation began;
Yoruba Elder: (Addressing Káòṣù) you have come a long way, son. Who are you?
Káòṣù: (Remains silent, his gaze unwavering)
This made everyone in the room shocked because an elder must not be disrespected. But the interrogation continued;
Yoruba Elder: (Addressing Káòṣù with a stern yet measured tone) you have traversed great distances to stand before us today. From whence do you hail, and what brings you to our realm? Speak, so that we may understand the nature of your presence here.
Káòṣù: (Remains silent, his eyes fixed on the floor)
Igbo Elder: (His voice carrying a hint of impatience) we have heard whispers of your arrival, stranger. Tales of your journey have reached our ears, but we seek clarity. How did you breach the borders of our realm, and what dire circumstances led you to seek refuge within our walls?
Káòṣù: (Maintains his silence, his expression unreadable)
Hausa Elder: (Gesturing emphatically) the presence of British soldiers upon our lands has raised many questions. Why were they in pursuit of you and what entanglements have brought their wrath upon your head?
Káòṣù: (Remains steadfast, refusing to offer any response)
Yoruba Elder: (His brows furrowed in consternation) Your obstinance does you no favours, stranger. We are not known for our patience, and your reticence only serves to stoke the flames of suspicion.
Igbo Elder: (His voice tinged with frustration) We have extended to you the courtesy of our inquiry, yet you repay us with silence. Are you so naive as to think you can evade our scrutiny with your silence?
Hausa Elder: (His tone growing more menacing) You tread on dangerous ground, outsider. Our realm is not a sanctuary for those who refuse to account for their actions. Speak now, or face the consequences of your insolence!
Káòṣù: (Remains stoic, his gaze unwavering despite the mounting pressure)
General Ọkwụlụọcha: (Observing Káòṣù with a mixture of amusement and disdain). It seems we have stumbled upon a mute warrior, Wise Ones. "A man of action, perhaps, but not of words."
Yoruba Elder: (Narrows his eyes, his tone sharp) Your silence speaks volumes, stranger. But we are not without patience. Tell us, how did you come to find yourself within the borders of Isẹ́dọ̀kan's? What purpose drove you to trespass upon our sacred realm?
Igbo Elder: (Crosses his arms, his expression stern) Indeed, it is a strange coincidence that you appear before us now. Our borders are invisible to foreigner's eye, no one can enter except you are an indigene and yet you managed to breach them. Explain yourself, and perhaps we shall find reason to trust you.
As Káòṣù listened to the Yoruba elder's stern admonishment, his frustration reached a boiling point. The weight of the elder's words hung heavy in the air, each syllable driving home the gravity of the situation. But it was the mention of the Special Ones, those who held dominion over life and death itself, that ignited a fierce spark of anger within him.
"You stand before the Special Ones," the elder declared, his voice dripping with disdain, "those who hold dominion over life and death itself. And yet you dare to challenge their authority with your impudent silence. Truly, you are a fool beyond measure."
Those words struck a nerve with Káòṣù, fuelling the flames of his indignation until they burned with an intensity that threatened to consume him. How dare they question his resolve, his dedication to the cause of his people? Who were they to judge him, to condemn him with their lofty proclamations of authority?
Unable to contain his rage any longer, Káòṣù's voice rang out in defiance, cutting through the solemn silence of the grand hall like a sword through the darkness.
Káòṣù: (his gaze sweeping over the elders with a mixture of defiance, sorrow and tears.) I always thought I was different, cursed even. People whispered behind my back, calling me an outcast, a pariah. I never knew a place like this existed, where people like me could come together and fight for a common cause.
And to think, all this time I believed I was alone in this fight; Alone in the struggle against the tyranny of the British Empire.
But now, to see that there are others like me, others who know what is happening in the outside world yet refuse to do anything... It's beyond disappointing. It's heart-breaking. How can the Special Ones, those with the power to change our fate, sit idly by while our people suffer? It's unfathomable.
If I must be the one to lead our people to freedom, then so be it. I will embrace my destiny, no matter the hardships it may bring.
Káòṣù: (His frustration boiling over, his voice tinged with anger) You speak of consequences, Elder, but do you not see the consequences of your own inaction? For too long, our people have suffered under the yoke of oppression, their cries for freedom falling on deaf ears. I may have been alone in my struggle, but I fought tooth and nail to liberate my people from the clutches of tyranny. What have you done, sitting comfortably upon your thrones of authority, while our people languish in chains?
I have faced the horrors of war alone, confronting the British Empire with nothing but my own resolve and determination. And yet here you sit, claiming to be the Special Ones, while our people suffer under the heel of their oppressors. How can you call yourselves special when you turn a blind eye to the suffering of your own kin?
You ask who I am? My name is Káòṣù, and I am the voice of the voiceless, the champion of the oppressed. I may have been born without knowing where I was born or who my family are, but I am destined to lead my people to freedom, no matter the cost. So mock me if you will, Elder, but know this: I am the one who will save our people from the chains of bondage. I am the one-man army, and I will not rest until justice is served.
As Káòṣù's impassioned words echoed through the grand hall, a heavy silence descended upon the gathered assembly. The weight of his accusations hung palpably in the air, casting a somber veil over the room. Yet, amidst the quiet, a sudden eruption shattered the tension.
A deep, rumbling laugh reverberated from the largest figure in the room, Nwètárà Mmàdùanyì, the Protector of Nature. His booming laughter echoed off the walls, filling the hall with its thunderous resonance. His expression, a mixture of amusement and derision, betrayed his amusement at Káòṣù's outburst.
With a voice that carried the unmistakable cadence of Igbo, Nwètárà Mmàdùanyì continued to chuckle, his words laced with an accent unfamiliar to Káòṣù's ears. Though the meaning eluded him, the tone left little doubt – he was being mocked.
Nwè(making jest): "One man army, Eh? "bia nọnyere n'anya aghụghọ. (Translation:"Look at this little refugee,") he jeered in Igbo, his words laced with derision. "You're nothing but a disappointment, a waste of my time. Coming here to lecture us when you're about to meet your end."
As the mini-giant continued to mock him, his taunts like venomous barbs, Káòṣù felt a seething anger bubbling within him. Despite his desire to prove his strength, a gnawing doubt gnawed at his resolve. He knew deep down that his time was limited, that the poison coursing through his veins would soon claim him.
But in the face of Nwètárà Mmàdùanyì's scorn, Káòṣù could bear it no longer. His pride, wounded and raw, demanded retribution. With a voice trembling with rage, he lashed out, his words sharp as blades.
In the midst of this heated exchange, Uwargíshìrì, the Queen of Blades, intervened, her voice cutting through the tension like a whip cracking in the air.
Káòṣù: How dare you insult my pride! You have no idea what I am capable of!
Nwè: (With a sneer) So tell me oooo, imbecile, what are you capable of Ehn? You can't even defeat ten men, and yet you speak of toppling the British Empire hmm. Do you even comprehend the magnitude of your foolishness, boy?
Káòṣù: You dare call me foolish? You should be grateful I'm poisoned; otherwise, I would have burnt you to death!
Nwè: All you do is talk, talk, and talk! I cannot listen to your nonsense anymore fool, you weakling. Just admit it; you're a petty thief who stole from those soldiers ehn, and now you're running scared from those dead white fools. Who knows ehn, maybe the gods opened the door for you by mistake abi!
Káòṣù: How dare you! (His voice is thick with anger, but he's interrupted by a fit of coughing, blood trickling down his chin.)
Uwargíshìrì: (Speaking with a smirk) You surprise me, weakling. The venom in your blood should have killed you by now, but you'll die in a few hours no matter how much you resist.
Káòṣù: How do you know I was poisoned?
Uwargíshìrì: (With a sly smile) I know every poison there is to know, especially the ones made by me.
Káòṣù: (His voice strained) Why would you poison me?
Uwargíshìrì: (Speaking with a smirk) why did I poison you hmmmmmmm? Do I know you?
Káòṣù: No
Káòṣù: (Voice trembling with rage) But Someone must have collaborated with you. Who else would have access to your poison?
Uwargíshìrì: (Smirking) you flatter yourself, thinking you're important enough for such elaborate schemes. But let me make this clear: I act on my own accord. I have no need for alliances with weaklings like you. They follow my lead, not the other way around.
Káòṣù: (Voice strained) Is there a cure? How do I rid myself of this poison?
Uwargíshìrì: (Coldly) Cure? I didn't concoct this poison with the intent of offering a remedy. You should have perished within the hour. Yet here you stand, defying the odds. You are stronger than I anticipated, fool. You should be proud of that, at least.
Uwargíshìrì: (Observing him coldly) Judging by the effects of my poison, it's your powers that are keeping you alive. Your heart rate is slowing, your organs failing one by one. Soon, your senses will cease to function. Your body is losing its ability to regulate itself. You should have perished by now, yet the poison is grappling with your powers, fighting against your will to survive. But it's a futile battle. You're not strong enough to overcome the poison.
Káòṣù: (His voice strained with resignation) So, there's truly no cure... My fate ends here?
Uwargíshìrì: (Her gaze cold and unforgiving) Yes, you are going to die... unless she decide to let you live. (gestures towards the princess sitting beside her)
As Uwargíshìrì gestured towards the princess, a palpable tension filled the air, sparking a heated argument among the beings in the hall. Yet, amidst the discord, the princess gaze softened as she locked eyes with Káòṣù. In that moment, a sense of empathy seemed to wash over her, softening her resolve. With a hint of compassion, the princess, offering a glimmer of hope as she extended the chance for Káòṣù's cure.
Ìsèlè: (Her voice carrying a note of determination) hmmmmmmm everyone we cannot turn a blind eye to suffering. If there's a chance to alleviate his pain, we must take it.
Yoruba Elder: (His brows furrowed in concern) But what of the consequences, Ìsèlè? Meddling with fate could invite untold calamity upon us all.
Ìsèlè: (Her voice firm) the consequences be damned! If there's a chance to ease his suffering, we must take it. Our duty is to protect life, not abandon it to fate.
Ìsèlè: (worrying) but look at him he is so weak and he had a really inspiring speech with a great mission to fulfil; do you know what fate wants or not what if to help him is also fate?
Jinéré: (Her tone grave) we cannot ignore the risks involved, Ìsèlè. Sometimes, it is better to let nature take its course, for the sake of the greater good. Ehn tell me; why are you showing weakness to this weakling?
General Ọkwụlụọcha: (Nodding in disagreement) Compassion is not a weakness, but strength. We must not forsake our humanity in the face of adversity.
Nwè: (cutting of the conversation with a yawn) I am tired of this lecture. Princess please do what you want to do I need to leave this place, I am tired of sitting.
Ìsèlè: Very well then.
As Káòṣù writhed in the grip of agony, Ìsèlè's expression remained impassive, her focus unwavering as she channeled her power. Each movement of her hands seemed to amplify the torment, every gesture a symphony of suffering for Káòṣù. The air crackled with energy, charged with the intensity of his pain.
Despite his screams, the princess showed no mercy, her determination unyielding as she continued to wield her powers. It was as if she was extracting every last drop of suffering from Káòṣù, pushing him to the brink of endurance and beyond.
In those agonizing moments, Káòṣù's world narrowed to the searing pain coursing through his body. Each nerve felt like it was on fire, every muscle protesting against the onslaught. Yet amidst the torment, he could sense a strange sensation stirring within him - a glimmer of something primal, a flicker of raw power awakening in response to the pain.
But just as Káòṣù feared he would be consumed by the relentless agony, the tide began to ebb. The searing pain gradually receded, replaced by a sensation of relief so profound it bordered on euphoria. It was as if Ìsèlè had drawn out every ounce of suffering, leaving Káòṣù cleansed, rejuvenated, and inexplicably stronger than before.
Yet, beneath the surface of his newfound vitality, there lingered a darkness, a shadow of something unsettling. As he hovered in the air, his eyes glowing with an eerie light, Káòṣù felt a surge of power unlike anything he had ever known. It was as if the pain had unlocked something deep within him, something ancient and primal, stirring with a hunger that threatened to consume him whole.
As the last vestiges of pain ebbed away, Káòṣù found himself enveloped in a cocoon of revitalizing energy. It surged through him, knitting together his fractured body and infusing him with a vitality he had not felt in years. Every muscle tensed with newfound strength, every sense heightened to a razor-sharp clarity.
Yet, amidst this surge of power, there lurked a disquieting undercurrent. Behind the veil of euphoria, Káòṣù sensed something primal awakening within him, a force both ancient and potent. It pulsed through his veins like a living thing, stirring with a hunger that seemed to echo from the depths of his soul.
His eyes, once dull with pain, now gleamed with an otherworldly light, their hue shifting to an unsettling shade of purple. It was as if a shadow had descended upon him, veiling his newfound strength in an aura of darkness. Despite the relief he felt, Káòṣù couldn't shake the sense of foreboding that settled in the pit of his stomach.
The air crackled with tension as he hovered in the center of the grand hall, his gaze sweeping over the assembled beings with a mix of curiosity and trepidation. He was acutely aware of the power coursing through him, a power that felt both exhilarating and unnerving in its intensity.
As he struggled to come to terms with this newfound strength, a mirthless laugh escaped his lips, tinged with a hint of madness. It was a laugh borne of defiance, a declaration of his refusal to be bound by fate or circumstance. In that moment, Káòṣù knew that he stood on the precipice of a journey unlike any he had ever known, a journey that would test the limits of his newfound power and reshape the course of his destiny forever.
"You should not have done this, princess," he spoke, his voice now deep and resonant, tinged with a sinister edge. And with those words, a surge of purple flames erupted from his body, engulfing the room in a sinister glow. But as the flames licked at the walls and ceiling, Káòṣù noticed something peculiar - the figures seated on the chairs remained untouched, shielded by a white transparent barrier.
As the flames continued to writhe and dance around him, Káòṣù felt a sense of both awe and dread wash over him. The purple fire seemed to possess a life of its own, twisting and spiraling in intricate patterns as it consumed everything in its path. Yet, amidst the chaos and destruction, the figures seated on the chairs remained serene, their expressions unreadable behind the protective veil of the translucent barrier.
With each flicker of the flames, Káòṣù's eyes darted across the room, searching for any sign of weakness in the barrier that shielded the enigmatic beings from harm. But try as he might, he could find no discernible flaw in its structure, no vulnerability to exploit. It was as if the barrier was woven from the very fabric of the cosmos itself, impervious to the ravages of the inferno that raged outside its bounds.
As Káòṣù grappled with the implications of this revelation, a sense of frustration gnawed at the edges of his consciousness. Here he stood, bathed in the flames of his own creation, yet powerless to breach the barrier that stood between him and the answers he sought. It was a bitter irony, to be confronted with such overwhelming power and yet find himself utterly impotent in its presence.
But amidst the chaos and uncertainty, a glimmer of determination sparked within Káòṣù's heart. He may be trapped in this enigmatic realm, surrounded by forces beyond his comprehension, but he refused to be cowed into submission. With every fiber of his being, he resolved to unravel the mysteries that lay before him, to confront the challenges that awaited him with courage and resolve.
And as the flames continued to rage around him, casting twisted shadows upon the walls of the grand hall, Káòṣù steeled himself for the trials that lay ahead. For though the path may be fraught with peril and uncertainty, he knew that he would not falter in his quest for truth and power. With unwavering determination, he prepared to face whatever trials awaited him, knowing that his destiny lay not in the hands of fate, but in his own strength and willpower.
His gaze fell upon the man clad in white, who had remained silent throughout the ordeal. And in that moment, Káòṣù realized that this enigmatic figure held a power beyond comprehension, a force that even his newfound strength could not overcome.
The man in white sat unmoved, his presence commanding the attention of all who beheld him. There was an aura of serenity about him, a quiet confidence that seemed to emanate from every pore of his being. His eyes, like twin orbs of polished marble, held a depth of wisdom that belied his stoic demeanor, hinting at a knowledge that transcended the bounds of mortal understanding.
As Káòṣù's gaze lingered upon the man, a sense of unease settled over him like a shroud. It was as if he could sense the immense power that lay dormant within the figure, a power that lurked beneath the surface like a slumbering beast, waiting to be unleashed upon the world.
But try as he might, Káòṣù could find no hint of malice or hostility in the man's demeanor. Instead, there was a sense of calm acceptance, as if he had long ago made peace with the mysteries of the universe and the role he played within it.
And yet, despite the outward calmness of the man in white, Káòṣù could not shake the feeling that there was more to him than met the eye. There was a depth to his gaze, a hidden reservoir of power that lurked just beneath the surface, waiting to be tapped into at a moment's notice.
As the flames continued to rage around them, casting flickering shadows upon the walls of the grand hall, Káòṣù found himself drawn inexorably towards the enigmatic figure. There was a magnetism to him, a pull that seemed to defy rational explanation, drawing Káòṣù ever closer to the heart of the mystery that surrounded him.
And as he stood before the man in white, bathed in the eerie glow of the purple flames, Káòṣù felt a sense of both trepidation and awe wash over him. For in that moment, he realized that he stood in the presence of a being of immense power and significance, a being whose true nature remained shrouded in mystery and shadow.
As Káòṣù's flames failed to breach the barrier surrounding the figures on the chairs, a mixture of frustration and indignation welled up within him. He had been mocked, belittled, and dismissed as nothing more than a petty thief, and now, faced with his undeniable power, his detractors cowered behind their protective shield.
"I thought you said I was weak," he declared, his voice ringing out with a steely edge. "I warned you, I am the one-man army. You made fun of me, called me a fool, a weakling. And now, when faced with my true strength, you hide behind your barriers like frightened children. Show me why you are the special ones, who dare to sit in judgment over me. Show me your might!" His finger jabbed accusingly at the man in white, a challenge burning in his eyes.
But before he could make a move, General Ọkwụlụọcha rose from his seat with a smirk, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Let me deal with him," he said, his voice dripping with confidence as he descended from his perch.
General Ọkwụlụọcha: (with a smirk) Ifádànà wait; let me deal with him.
Ifádànà: (frustrated at the general) why?
General Ọkwụlụọcha: (replying with a smile) because I will make it quick.
Ifádànà: (his voice unwavering) but I will make it quicker
General Ọkwụlụọcha: (his gaze flickering with amusement) Where is the fun in that Ifádànà hmm.
General Ọkwụlụọcha faced Káòṣù with a confident smile
Káòṣùn: (his voice dripping with defiance.) You want to know what I am. This is who I am.
General Ọkwụlụọcha: (His smile widened as he retorted) Son, You don't even know what you are. So come here!!
As the General's voice cut through the chaos, "Come here, Káòṣùn!" His command was not one to be ignored. With heart pounding, Káòṣùn charged, his hands conjuring a blazing orb of fire, hurling it towards the General with all his might.
But the General, with a warrior's grace, sidestepped the fiery assault, his movements as fluid as the wind. Again and again, Káòṣùn summoned the flames, each strike more desperate than the last, but to no avail. The fire that once obeyed him now seemed a mere child's play before the General's indomitable spirit.
Shock etched on his face, Káòṣùn realized the General wielded no sword; his only armament was a shield, unyielding and steadfast. "Fight back!" Káòṣùn roared, frustration seething within him.
The General's eyes, calm and untroubled, met Káòṣùn's. "Very well," he replied, his voice the calm before the storm. And in the blink of an eye, before Káòṣùn could muster another attack, the General was upon him, a shadow at his back. A swift kick sent shivers up Káòṣùn's spine, the force of it staggering.
The General advanced, relentless, each strike a lesson in humility. Káòṣùn, once proud and fierce, now lay at the General's feet, beaten, broken. "So this is what you are," the General declared, his words falling like hammer blows, "you are just useless."
When the word "You are Useless" reached his ears, it ignited a wildfire within him. His anger surged, and he rose from his seat, the ground trembling beneath his feet. The air shimmered around him, and his eyes blazed brighter, fueled by wounded pride.
"I am not weak," Káòṣùn declared, his voice echoing through the chamber. "I am not a fool. And I am certainly not useless."
His resolve crystallized into action. With a sweeping gesture, he conjured a fire wave—a torrent of searing heat that roared toward the general. The general, clad in battle-worn armor, raised his metallic shield. The clash was cataclysmic—the shield groaning under the assault, its surface melting as if kissed by a sun's wrath.
Jínérẹ, writhed in turmoil. She longed to intervene, but the general's stern gaze held her back.
Yet Káòṣùn persisted. He closed the gap, flames licking at the edges of his being. The general's resolve wavered; he was a seasoned warrior, but this was no ordinary fire. It was the embodiment of Káòṣùn's fury, a tempest born of wounded pride and ancient grudges.
Then, like a thunderclap, Ifádànà appeared. His arrival was swift, his power undeniable. With a mere flick of his hand, he halted Káòṣùn's onslaught. The flames froze mid-air, suspended by an unseen force. Káòṣùn crashed to the ground, his defiance met with cosmic indifference.
"You dare challenge us?" Ifádànà's voice resonated, each syllable a cosmic truth. "You are a cat trying to bite the tiger's tail. Know your place, child."
Fear gripped Káòṣùn. His breaths came in ragged gasps as Ifádànà lifted him effortlessly. The world blurred, and he glimpsed eternity in those ancient eyes. Death loomed, a spectre with bony fingers reaching for his soul.
Desperation clawed at Káòṣùn. "Release me!" he choked out, his defiance tempered by terror.
The general, ever loyal, shouted, "Release him, Ifádànà!"
And so, with a final act of mercy, Ifádànà slammed Káòṣùn to the ground. Darkness claimed him, and he slipped into unconsciousness, flames extinguished.
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