The scouts returned to Nouvo Lakay breathless.
Six armies. Six tribes. All advancing.
There would be no diplomacy this time. Only war.
The Call to March
At dawn, Zion summoned the priestesses beneath the banners.
"Choose your battle," he said. "But do not fight to win. Fight to end it."
Each priestess placed her hand upon her banner. Then, like threads pulled from a loom, the five armies unraveled from the hills of Nouvo Lakay and swept into the open fields—each marching to intercept one of the invading forces.
1. Thalia's Warborn vs. the Crimson Boars
The Crimson Boars were brutal. Their warriors painted themselves in pig's blood and charged like beasts. They carried war clubs and tower shields.
Thalia met them in the open, blade in hand, her eyes glowing with Ogou's fury.
"They think strength is chaos. Let's remind them strength is control."
The Warborn formed wedges, crashed into the enemy lines, then splintered them. Every strike was clean. Every command came like thunder. And above it all, the war god roared.
2. Ayola's Silent Gate vs. The Night Reavers
The Night Reavers relied on stealth and poison—but they underestimated Ayola's mastery of deception.
Her agents had infiltrated their ranks days before the war began.
At the battlefield, the Reavers found their water poisoned, their plans mirrored, and their movements predicted.
"You came in silence," Ayola whispered. "But Papa Legba wrote your names in smoke."
When the battle erupted, the Reavers died confused—slain by ghosts they never saw.
3. Sael's Gilded Grace vs. The Sand Vultures
The Sand Vultures were desert fighters—swift, sharp, and sun-hardened. They fought in curved lines, with whirling blades.
Sael danced to meet them.
She fought like art. Her soldiers moved like silk and cut like fire. Music rang from their blades, and Erzulie Freda's fire pulsed in their hearts.
"They have no love," Sael said, spinning through a line of warriors. "So we'll give them heartbreak."
By sundown, the sand drank their sorrow.
4. Ayomi's Daughters of the Grave vs. The Hollow Sons
The Hollow Sons were cultists—death worshippers twisted by stolen sigils.
Ayomi did not flinch.
"You've kissed the grave," she told her warriors, "but we live in it."
Baron Samedi laughed as her army rose from fog and shadow. Every enemy slain was marked with grave salt. The Sons fled, but the grave followed.
Ayomi walked the field in silence, burying the bodies herself.
5. Elis's Deathbound Choir vs. The Thunderbacks
The Thunderbacks marched in lines like a living wall, thunder drums pounding. Their armor was layered stone, their fists like hammers.
But Elis's warriors sang.
Not with joy—but with pain. Their voices cracked the wind, their hymns calling spirits to bear witness.
"You hide behind noise," Elis shouted, "but grief is louder."
The Thunderbacks broke—not from the blade, but from the unbearable weight of justice.
6. Zion and the Sixth Army – The Devourers of Flame
The final invading force came proud and roaring—tattooed, brutal, and cloaked in the reputation of having razed three villages and left only salt and bone behind.
But Zion stood alone on the hill.
Until the wind shifted.
Moru appeared first—his scaled feline form gliding low and silent, tail whipping like a living blade. Each of his claws shimmered with poison, his fangs able to melt through armor.
Then came Kama, a majestic skyborne beast, feathers black as shadowfire, her wings spanning wider than two huts, eyes glowing with moonlit wisdom. She circled above Zion, letting out a single piercing cry that silenced the enemy laughter.
"You've spilled blood without cost," Zion said as he stepped forward, his third sigil glowing like an ember at the center of his chest. "Now the land demands balance."
And then came the reckoning.
Moru moved like a whisper in tall grass—fast, coiled, deadly. He slipped under shields and tore warriors apart before they could scream. His scales shimmered with the power of Damballah, ancient and cold.
Above, Kama dove like judgment. Her talons struck like hammers of the sky, dragging warriors into the air before dashing them against stone. She shrieked as fire crackled around her feathers—Zion's sigil magic enhancing her form with flame and wind.
Zion followed his beasts like a walking storm, striking with unerring precision, breaking enemy lines without raising his voice. His presence bent the battlefield like gravity itself.
They did not win.
They annihilated.
And when the smoke cleared, Zion raised no banner—only his voice:
"Let this be the last war we do not start… but finish."
By nightfall, all six enemy armies lay in ruin.
The five priestesses returned in triumph. Zion stood beneath the stars, quiet, as Kama landed beside him and Moru rubbed his blood-marked head against Zion's leg like a loyal sentinel.
But far beyond, where flame met shadow, something stirred.
And it remembered Zion's name.