Swords of Justice
Chapter 22: (Punch for a Punch)
After a long journey that lasted for hours, Hamza's team finally arrived at the village the Lady had sent them to—a village of swordsmiths. As they entered, they noticed that all the villagers were strong, blond men, hammering iron and forging blades. Their gazes were filled with suspicion and curiosity. One by one, they stopped working, stepped forward, and approached them aggressively.
Deputy Salman asked Princess Hasna to stay behind him, while Hamza prepared himself, fearing an attack. Then one of the villagers spoke:
"Who are you?"
Qasim raised his hands in surrender and said, "We only want to buy swords from you."
The same man replied harshly, "We don't sell to just anyone."
Qasim smirked, "Then who do you sell to?"
His arrogant tone irritated them, and they were about to attack when Qasim quickly added with a fake smile:
"I'm kidding. We came on a request from the Lady. Most of us are her followers."
A loud laugh echoed from afar. The villagers parted as a massive, nearly half-naked man stepped forward. He was heavily muscular, with long blond hair and a beard.
"Why didn't you say that from the start?"
Qasim shrugged. "I enjoy stirring trouble."
"You mischievous brat," the man said with a laugh. Then he added, "How is the Lady? And why isn't she with you?"
Qasim replied, "She had an urgent matter, but she sent us here. She said there's a leader in the village named Mu'taz who would fulfill any request she makes."
The man smiled. "Of course—because that's me. So, you want to buy weapons from us?"
Qasim began, "Actually, we want—"
But Hamza interrupted, stepping forward. "We want you and your men to join us in saving the king and his people."
Mu'taz laughed. "We only make swords. We are not fighters. We'll sell you weapons to fight, though."
Hamza replied firmly, "What good are swords if our numbers are small? We need people, not just weapons. Besides, your bodies suggest you are fierce warriors, not mere blacksmiths."
Mu'taz crossed his arms. "Forging iron is no easy task, my friend. It takes great effort—that's what made our bodies this strong."
Hamza answered, "I'm a warrior. I know strength when I see it—you are fighters."
Mu'taz's expression turned serious. "Whatever you think, we will only help you with swords. Do not drag us into your war."
Hamza said coldly, "Because you're cowards… isn't that right?"
Mu'taz's face darkened with anger. "You've crossed the line."
Princess Hasna stepped in, pleading, "Please… we want justice for our kingdom. I can't stand this tyranny anymore."
Mu'taz looked at her and said calmly, "War brings nothing but misery, my lady."
Hasna replied with determination, "Through war, peace is born."
Mu'taz's voice deepened. "A pampered girl like you would never understand war."
Hamza scoffed. "You sell swords to bandits and talk about misery?"
Enraged, Mu'taz threw a powerful punch straight at Hamza's face, knocking him to the ground.
"A fighter who relies only on his sword will never understand what I mean."
Hamza slowly stood up, spat blood from his mouth, then smiled.
"You've got quite a punch, I'll give you that."
The villagers were stunned—no one had ever endured a serious punch from Mu'taz before. Even Mu'taz himself looked shocked.
"I hit you with all my strength… how did you get up so quickly?!"
Hamza smiled. "So your philosophy of fighting is all about fists, right? Then how about a challenge—one that proves whose belief is stronger?"
Mu'taz grinned, a mix of excitement and tension in his eyes. "Now you've got me interested. What's your name?"
"Hamza."
Mu'taz smiled. "Alright then… let's play a game called Punch for a Punch. The winner takes it all."
Hamza smirked. "Victory will be mine."
To be continued…