The Wrath of the Unchained
Chapter 168 - A Beacon Beyond Borders

Chapter 168: Chapter 168 - A Beacon Beyond Borders

The sky over the nearly complete capital of Nuri was clouded with morning haze, the sun just beginning to burn away the mist that draped the city’s wide avenues and stone plazas. Though the buildings still bore scaffolds and dust, the heart of Nuri beat strong—fresh bricks, humming workshops, children laughing in newly built courtyards.

In the highest hall of government—bare but proud—Khisa read the report again.

His hands were steady, but his eyes burned. Each name on the scroll was a brand. Each revelation a wound.

Lumingu’s coup was not just a Kongo affair. It was an infection—one that could rot the continent if left unchecked.

He rose.

"Summon the council," he said to the guard at the door. "Tell my father I need him at the high table."

By midday, the chamber was full.

Khisa stood at the center, scroll in hand. At the circular stone table sat King Lusweti, grim-faced but composed. General Simiyu sat to his right, arms folded, a scar across his temple still healing from his last campaign. Captain Shikuku of the Watchers leaned forward, hands clasped. To the left were Naliaka and Ndengu, representing Mkono wa Giza, their presence as quiet and imposing as the shadows they commanded.

Scholars, scribes, and several economic advisors ringed the edges of the chamber.

When Khisa finished reading the full Kongo report aloud, the room fell still.

"This," General Simiyu said at last, "is worse than we thought."

"And more delicate," added Captain Shikuku.

"The wrong move from us, and we trigger a war we’re not ready for.

They’ve corrupted the priesthood, the nobility, and even trained foreign agents. If the coup succeeds, Kongo becomes a weapon pointed at us—and Buganda."

One of the elder diplomats leaned forward. "Even if we win... we’ll be seen as meddlers. Invaders."

"And yet," said one of the advisors, "they are still steeped in the slave trade. Do we bleed our resources and risk our soldiers for a kingdom that sees people as property?

Our values don’t align. We could save them now and fight them next year over slavery"

Murmurs of agreement rippled through the room.

Khisa met their eyes. "And if we don’t stop this now—how many more will be enslaved if Lumingu wins? How many will die before the fire reaches our gates?"

"But Khisa," one elder insisted, "if we intervene too forcefully, it may damage our credibility. Not all nations trust us—some already whisper that we want to build an empire."

"Let them whisper," Naliaka snapped. "We don’t answer to cowards hiding behind talk. We act when others don’t."

"That’s exactly the problem," the diplomat retorted. "We can’t save everyone. We have borders for a reason."

Naliaka spoke next. "Our people are already there. They lit the match, now we either feed the flame—or control it."

Lusweti rose then—his voice calm but iron-strong.

"We are not trying to save everyone. We are acting where others refuse to. That is the difference. This is not about territory or control. It’s about purpose. If innocent people bleed, and we have the power to stop it, how can we call ourselves a beacon?"

The room quieted.

"The strength of Nuri," he continued, "is not just in its steel or its stone—but in its heart. We built this city on unity. That unity only matters if it extends beyond comfort."

"But diplomacy cannot be ignored," said a diplomat beside Naliaka. "Even if we do stop the coup, what then? Ally with slavers? That compromises everything Nuri stands for."

Khisa turned to his father.

King Lusweti stood, voice steady, but the weight in it was unmistakable.

"We must help them," he said. "Because we are Nuri. And Nuri does not turn its back when the innocent bleed—no matter whose chains they wear. It is precisely because we have so many different tribes, so many beliefs, that we understand this. If we wait for purity before we act, we will stand alone on a mountain of bones."

The room quieted.

Lusweti looked to his son. "What do you propose?"

"The team we sent is small. Quiet. Swift. Mkono wa Giza has exceeded expectations. Their intel reached us days faster than we could predict. They have uncovered more than we could have sitting around here. They’ve already saved the Kongo royal family."

Captain Shikuku added, "That was no small feat. Those nobles were buried in danger. The fact that they’re safe now says everything about Mkono’s skill."

A few skeptical voices murmured less now.

Khisa allowed himself a rare smile of pride. "Years of training. Years of discipline. I fought to build them from the ground up. And now, they’re doing exactly what they were created for—stopping war before it begins."

Simiyu grunted in approval. "They may not wear medals, but I’d take one of them over ten ordinary soldiers."

Khisa stepped forward. "The Shadows have done more than any of us expected. But their mission has shifted. They need support. Reinforcements, yes—but also leadership."

General Simiyu raised a brow. "You mean to go yourself?"

"I do."

The room stirred. Arguments began to rise—but he raised a hand.

"I’m not going as a prince. I’m going as a bridge. My training has always been half diplomacy, half warfare. No one else knows how to negotiate through the fire better. If we want to end the coup without a continental war, I’m our best hope."

Ndengu grunted. "He’s not wrong. Most men would rather kill their enemy. Khisa would rather convince him to surrender first."

Naliaka smirked. "And he usually succeeds."

Lusweti gave a slow nod. "Who will you take?"

"A small team," Khisa replied. "Mkono wa Giza, a detachment from the Watchers, and a few specialized units. We’ll be light, fast, and adaptable. And I’ll pass through Buganda first—I need to speak with the Kabaka. If he’s already purging the traitors, we may gain a critical ally before the final strike."

Shikuku spoke up. "Will you arm the team with the new prototypes?"

Khisa hesitated, then nodded. "Yes. We can’t afford to hide our progress anymore—not in enemy territory. The rifles, the light cannons, and the new explosives—we take only what we can carry, and no more. These weapons will remain in Nuri hands. If Buganda sides with us, we can negotiate an arms agreement later."

"Not everyone will like this," an older Watcher said from the side. "Some will call it aggression."

Khisa looked around the room. "Let them. I don’t care what names they use for us, so long as the people we protect live to speak them."

King Lusweti stepped forward and placed a hand on his son’s shoulder. "Then it is decided. You’ll leave at first light. May the spirits guide you—and bring our brothers and sisters home."