The news that the unarmed had been able to withstand the Water Tribe's Central Province army spread faster than fire.
The other provinces of the Water Tribe were shocked, and soon, the Fire Tribe also heard the news and held a meeting.
"Your Majesty, I suggest we make a truce with the unarmed within our region and provinces. We cannot allow those unarmed to continue joining forces," a lord suggested in the Fire Tribe royal court.
"Lord Gui, you're always so fearful! How can we lower ourselves to such a level? I say we join forces with the Water Tribe and crush those unarmed into the ground!" General Boltain declared.
King Alan of the Fire Tribe looked at the two men and sighed. The Fire Tribe was different from the Water Tribe. He did not allow any province to act independently within his region. He ruled supreme. All provinces of the Fire Tribe were under his direct control. He already hated sharing the world with the Water Tribe; how could he possibly share it with the unarmed?
Why should he provide aid to the Water Tribe?
"We will not get involved in this matter. Let the Water Tribe face the unarmed. Judging from the reports, even if the Water Tribe manages to win, it will come at a heavy price. This is our chance to take over," King Alan said with a grin.
The lords around the table considered his words and nodded. The fire tribe had always wanted to rule over the world and this seems to be the perfect opportunity.
"Your Majesty is indeed wise," the Fire Tribe royal court praised him.
Unknown to them, at that very moment, the Mad King had sent messages to unarmed camps across the land, calling them to join his cause.
"Father, I want to join the Mad King. I heard he defeated the Water Tribe army," a young man said to his father.
"Are you crazy? You'll only meet your end if you join him. This is all madness," his father said, looking at his son in anger.
"So? The Mad King already said that once he defeats the Water Tribe, he will come for the Fire Tribe next. Any unarmed person who hasn't joined his cause will be treated as an enemy," the young man argued.
"You believe that nonsense? He'll be dead in another seven days at most," the father declared confidently.
"What if he wins? You also said the so-called unarmed soldiers would be wiped out by the Water Tribe army but the opposite happened," the son reminded him.
The father wanted to argue but had no words. The Mad King had indeed done the impossible. Rumor had it he came out of a burning tent unharmed. It still sounded impossible for him to defeat both tribes, but now, even if just slightly there was a chance.
Seeing his father's shaken confidence, the young man spoke again. "Let me go and represent our family in the Mad King's army. I'll report that my two brothers stayed behind to gather information for him. During that time, let my brothers do their best to spy on the Fire Tribe. There's no need to say it aloud…"
He didn't finish his sentence, but his father understood. This could be a way for their family to survive, no matter which side won.
"Then go. Join the army," his father agreed. He called his other sons, and they all felt it was a good plan.
Some unarmed families who heard of this did the same, sending someone to show support. But there were also those among the unarmed who mocked these families and chose not to join the Mad King. Some even reported them to the Fire Tribe's steward, hoping to gain favor.
Over the next few days, this dilemma spread across many unarmed camps. Only a few were willing to risk everything by joining the Mad King.
Then, four days later, the Water Tribe attacked an unarmed camp without warning.
When they launched their sudden assault, they stormed into the unarmed camp with ruthless precision, only to find it occupied by the sick, the elderly, and a few frightened children.
"Where are the warriors?" one Water Tribe captain asked, scanning the empty tents.
The children close by hugged each other but did not dare to cry.
A scout rushed in moments later, panting. "They've fled, heading east, toward the Red Hollow."
The commander sneered. "Cowards. After them."
They abandoned the camp without hesitation, leaving destruction in their wake as they chased after the retreating unarmed forces. By midday, they caught up to them in the dry valleys bordering the cliffs of Red Hollow.
The battle began in a storm of rage and vengeance.
The Water Tribe struck first, conjuring blades of ice and whips of water. Their war cries echoed across the hills as they unleashed their full fury. The unarmed, wielding only steel and arrows, tried to hold their ground but were overwhelmed. Water surged like serpents through their ranks, piercing armor and sweeping men off their feet.
Blood soaked the cracked earth.
In mere hours, more than half of the unarmed army had fallen. Their dead littered the valley floor, and the rest were pushed back against the cliffs with nowhere to run. The Water Tribe believed the battle was won.
"Finish them!" shouted one of the captains, raising his hand to summon a final wave.
But nothing happened.
He blinked in confusion and tried again. Still, nothing.
Cries of alarm spread through the Water Tribe ranks. One by one, warriors discovered they could no longer summon their powers. Water no longer bent to their will. Their weapons evaporated. Their magic failed.
"What's happening?" a soldier yelled, panic setting in.
Another dropped to his knees, gripping the air as if trying to force it to obey. "It's gone. My power it's just gone!"
And then they heard the drums.
"The Mad King has succeeded," one unarmed soldier said in a weak voice.
"The Mad King is back," another echoed.
As the whispers spread, the unarmed soldiers, already at their wit's end, began to feel a surge of courage.
"Today, we kill the Water Tribe army or die!" the voice of a general at the Mad King's side rang out.
"We fight to the death!"
"We set our people free!"
"We join our king to overturn this world!"
Their shouts echoed across the valley as they gripped their weapons firmly.
"Attack!" the Mad King's voice thundered through the valley.
Hearing his command, the unarmed soldiers charged with renewed strength.
"You're soldiers! Pick up a weapon and defend yourselves!" a Water Tribe general shouted, seeing the unarmed army closing in and killing without mercy. He did not recognize the voice that gave the command as belonging to the Mad King. He still didn't understand why their powers had suddenly vanished. The only thing that mattered now was survival.
Hearing the general's voice, the Water Tribe soldiers, who had been frozen in despair, began grabbing weapons from the fallen unarmed warriors to defend themselves. They comforted themselves with the thought that the unarmed were still fewer in number.
But then they saw him.
The Mad King, riding a black warhorse, appeared in the distance. Behind him, hundreds of fresh troops emerged—silent, disciplined, and armed to the teeth. They descended the cliffs like wraiths.
The Water Tribe lost the will to fight. Panic turned to chaos.
"They're fleeing!" one unarmed soldier shouted.
"Chase them! Kill them! Leave no survivors!" the Mad King commanded.
The unarmed, seeing their enemy broken, surged forward and struck without hesitation. Their vengeance was swift and merciless.