Chapter 58 - To the Last Breath
The night was chaos incarnate. Fire painted the sky in shades of orange and crimson, thick black smoke billowing like banners of war. The roar of collapsing tunnels beneath the city sent tremors through the earth, like the angry growl of a beast awakening from slumber. Dust choked the air, mixing with the acrid scent of gunpowder and blood.
The eastern wall of the fort had been the first to fall, blown apart by stolen explosives. What had once been an impenetrable barrier now lay in ruin, a gaping wound in the fort’s defenses. The ground was littered with shattered stone and mangled bodies, the remnants of mercenaries who had been too close to the blast. The opening gave Lusweti and his warriors a direct path toward Almeida.
But the battle was far from over.
The tunnels beneath Kilwa groaned, support beams snapping like twigs under the weight of the city above. Mercenaries, caught in the labyrinth of collapsing passages, screamed as they were swallowed by darkness, buried beneath tons of rubble. Their desperate cries were muffled by the roaring collapse, their lives snuffed out in an instant.
Lusweti sprinted through the crumbling passageways, his breath ragged, his legs burning from exertion. His hands trembled as he gripped his sword, his muscles tight from relentless movement. Sweat dripped into his eyes, blurring his vision, but he pushed forward.
A warrior at his side stumbled, his exhaustion evident. Lusweti caught him, steadying him for just a second before another blast rocked the tunnels. The shockwave sent them sprawling.
"Get up!" Lusweti roared over the deafening din. "We keep moving!"
Above ground, the reaction of the enslaved people of Kilwa was like a slow-building storm. At first, disbelief—eyes wide, lips trembling as they saw Nuri warriors carving through mercenaries. Then, realization struck.
"Nuri came for us!" A young boy gasped, his thin fingers tightening around the rusted chain that had bound him.