The Fall of Everything [Rewrite]

Rhazgord was known as the home of many great families, or more accurately, many 'tribes'. But it was impossible to imagine a place where these tribes lived together in peace. Apart from Sorbaj, there were no towns or villages in Rhazgord where tribes lived together. There were two main reasons for this.

The first reason was that each tribe had its own culture. These cultural differences were so pronounced that the tribes seemed to be from different nations. Their customs, rituals and ways of life were completely different. This created a distance between the tribes and made it difficult to live together.

The second reason was closely related to the first: Behind all their differences lay a common trait: their warlike nature. Every tribe of the Rhazgord recognized that the most basic necessity for survival was strength. Being strong was the only way to survive and gain honor. This warrior spirit triggered constant rivalry and strife between the tribes.

All of this fed the hatred between the tribes. Many of the tribes disliked and even openly hated each other. Culture clashes, misunderstandings and past scores further weakened the bonds between them.

Despite all this, there had never been a major war between the tribes since the kingdom of Rhazgord was founded. There have been disagreements, duels and minor skirmishes, of course, but such tensions have never grown to the point of threatening the unity of the kingdom.

The main reason for this was Rhazgord's unique system of governance. Rhazgord functioned essentially as a Tribal Federation. The members of the Federation, the tribes, had a say in proportion to their power. Power was measured not only by the number of soldiers, but also by the individual strength of the leaders, the history of the tribes and their economic influence. The most powerful tribe among all the tribes was held responsible for maintaining order in the country. The reward for this great responsibility was the title of king of the country and the highest ranking commander of the united federation army.

Being king and having the most influence over the army sounded very attractive, but the title came with an enormous burden. If there was a conflict between two tribes, it was the responsibility of the leading tribe to resolve it. If the conflict could not be resolved through duels or negotiations between the tribal leaders, the leading tribe would have to arbitrate. However, these decisions were not always guaranteed to be accepted. If a tribe challenged the decision or refused to accept the punishment, this meant outright war.

In this case, the leading tribe had to confront the rebelling party directly. Since the tribe in the leadership position was the most powerful in the country, it was usually able to put down such rebellions. But this success always came at a price. Wars could lead to a loss of resources, a shortage of warriors and a loss of trust in the leadership by other tribes. In Rhazgord, one truth was never forgotten: The strong could only remain leader as long as they could maintain that power. Every battle meant a new test for the leading tribe to maintain its strength.

The reason why the Tiamats had been leaders for so long was not only their physical superiority, but also their ability to strike a diplomatic balance. For it was as much about winning their loyalty and preserving the integrity of the federation as it was about combating the hostility of other tribes. Thanks to this complex structure, the Rhazgord were able to strike a delicate balance within a system that appeared barbaric from the outside.

Although the Iskats were not settled in the city of Sorbaj, they were known as one of the most powerful tribes in Rhazgord. They were also the Tiamat's most loyal and closest allies. Adopting a nomadic lifestyle, the Iskat were constantly on the move, traveling across the vast steppes of Rhazgord. This nomadic lifestyle, however, transformed them from an ordinary community into one of the most strategic elements of the Rhazgord Army.

The Iskat usually came to Sorbaj only to receive the title of Sharazir. During their short stay in the city, they participated in duels, met with army leaders to report back and then set off again. This mobility represented a pattern that suited both the nature of their tribe and their warrior character.

They learned to ride horses from an early age, and riding across the vast steppes of the Rhazgord was a way of life for Iskat children. These skills not only made them strong and agile warriors, but also positioned them as the most reliable cavalry unit in the Rhazgord.

The relationship between the Tiamates and the Iskat was built on the unique abilities of these two powerful clans. The Tiamats produced the most disciplined and strongest infantry in Rhazgord, while the Iskat produced the finest cavalry in the land. Together, these two tribes were an irresistible force, both diplomatically and militarily. For the rivals of both families, this alliance was always a daunting reality.

This close relationship was strengthened not only by common interests, but also by ties forged through marriage. The alliance between the two tribes was preserved through generations of marriages, and this tradition continues with new generations.

The young girl leading the two thousand cavalry that had just entered Corvus' camp represented a new link in these relationships. The young woman, Corvus' fiancée, was named Ilyada, and she was in a position to influence the fate of both her tribe and the Tiamates. She was a year older than Corvus and just as skilled a warrior. Her beauty was almost beyond human. She had night-black hair. It was tied tightly and cut short so that it would not bother her when she rode. The combination of long hours on horseback and the sun shining in the steppes gave her a wheat-colored skin. The muscles covered by her skin, though not large, were strengthened by the Lightstone.

As soon as Belisarius saw this young woman, he thought of the statues of goddesses in his country. The woman standing on a horse in front of him had a body that really resembled statues. At that moment, a lightning bolt flashed through Belisarius' brain. His puzzled gaze shifted to Corvus, who looked nervous. He involuntarily punched Corvus in the shoulder.

"You bastard! I was worried you were engaged to an ugly girl! She looks like a goddess."

Corvus ignored his friend's joking stem. After a moment of silence, Corvus' voice was heard.

"Take a few steps back, Belisarius."

As Belisarius tried to comprehend what Corvus was saying, the sound of horseshoes rang in his ears. Interrupting his thoughts and causing him to flinch, the sound was that of a horse passing swiftly by. However, in his confusion, he barely noticed the horse's passage. When he turned his head and looked behind him, he was even more stunned by the sight. The horse was there, but no one was on it. A riderless horse, wandering alone in the middle of the camp.

At that moment something else caught Belisarius' attention: Corvus had drawn his sword. Belisarius turned quickly to his friend and saw the focused expression on his face. Corvus was staring upwards. When Belisarius looked up to where he was looking, everything suddenly made sense.

Above, there was Ilyada. The rider of the speeding horse that had passed Corvus was, in fact, still in attack position. Ilyada had swung his sword gracefully as he passed Corvus. But in the blink of an eye, Corvus was able to return the attack with a nimble move.

Corvus' agility in his wounded state was admirable, but Ilyada's move was on another level. Realizing that her move hadn't quite hit its target, the young woman didn't hesitate for a moment, but leapt from her horse's saddle, almost floating in mid-air, and attacked Corvus from above.

The sight sent a brief shockwave. This move, which showed Ilyada's experience in the steppes and her warrior reflexes, took the breath away from everyone who saw it. Corvus' eyes were intently following the attack from above, his sword moving like a limb in his hands. This moment between the two warriors was not just a duel of swords, but a unique demonstration of the power represented by the best warriors of the Rhazgord.

A moment later, Iliad's sword met Corvus'. Sparks flew from the swords with the force of the clash, the sound of clanging metal echoed through the camp. Ilyada's hard blow knocked Corvus off balance and brought him to his knees. Corvus had successfully parried the deadly attack, but at a heavy cost. A thin trickle of blood escaped from his lips, his body pushed to its limits by the pain of his wounds.

Ilyada's face first showed a look of disgust, which quickly turned to anger. The reason for his disgust was Corvus' seeming weakness. The Corvus he knew would never kneel in such a situation. This was not the strong and fearless man he knew. But Ilyada soon realized why: Corvus had been wounded. That was the real source of the anger on her face.

"If you don't stop, your uncle will have to discipline you, Ilyada!"

It was a voice like thunder. It filled the quiet atmosphere of the camp in an instant, startling everyone. It was Draknar, who had long ago left the nomadic life to live in Sorbaj and had been a teacher for many years. Ilyada's uncle, Draknar was an old warrior who had made it his mission to stand by Corvus. He turned his stern gaze on Ilyada and his expression made clear the seriousness of his words.

Immediately after Draknar's intervention, several warriors quickly stepped between Corvus and Ilyada. One of the men immediately began to check Corvus' condition. He bent down and scrutinized the pale face of their leader, who had fallen to his knees. The other warriors stood alert for an attack, their swords gripped tightly.

Meanwhile, Belisarius watched all this with amazement. Ilyada's beauty and weird demeanor, Corvus' state and Draknar's intervention made things even more complicated.

"Who did this to my fiancé?" Ilyada asked, her eyes blazing with anger. It was as if her question had reached every corner of the camp on the wind. But no one answered her question. It seemed strange to many around him that Ilyada was now showing concern after having just attacked Corvus. But her anger was completely genuine.

Ilyada searched for an enemy with his eyes; his every movement resembled a hunter ready to strike. But the enemy was not here. It didn't take her long to realize that. She had come here because of the situation in Bahoz. Luckily, Ilyada and his soldiers were close to Bahoz, and when they learned of the situation, they had rushed here. Now, it was not difficult to piece together the reason why Corvus had become like this: The enemy in Bahoz.

Ilyada gave a short whistle. As soon as his horse heard the familiar sound, it pricked up its ears and started to run quickly towards its master. Ilyada also lunged for her horse and in one leap she was in the saddle. She stood tall on the horse's back, displaying all the splendor of her warrior nature. She had just decided to ride towards Bahoz and slash every enemy in her path with her sword when Corvus' stern voice stopped her.

"Stop acting like a lunatic, Ilyada! That is an order!"

Corvus' voice echoed through the camp. The authority in his tone was clearly beyond dispute. But instead of quenching Ilyada's anger, these words turned it in another direction. Now, that anger was directed entirely at Corvus.

On the back of his horse, with her curved sword in her hand, Ilyada looked even more frightening than she had a moment before. Her eyes blazing with rage, the determination in her stance a challenge to those around her.

"Last time I checked I was above you on the list, Corvus Tiamat!" she said, her voice sharp and stern. "When did you reach the rank of ordering me around?"

Despite Corvus' recent rise, Ilyada was still officially ahead of him. Both were considered among the most skilled warriors of the Rhazgord, but the hierarchy between them was not entirely clear. In the official ranking, Ilyada was two places above Corvus and they were considered equal in rank. Corvus had no authority to give her orders in this situation.

Corvus did not hesitate for a moment to respond to these words. Calmly but firmly, he pointed to the sacred black flag flying in front of his tent.

"No, you are still on the list above me," he said. The calmness in his voice pierced the tense atmosphere. "But things are different now. The Black Flag has been given to me. When I tell you to stop, you will stop."

These words brought complete silence to the campsite. The Black Flag was a symbol representing the highest command authority of the Rhazgord. It ensured absolute authority in the leadership, and its orders carried a certainty that disobedience was unacceptable. Ilyada's eyes shifted to the flag Corvus was pointing to.

Ilyada dismounted silently. The frightening presence that had filled the camp with its rage was gone, replaced by a calmer, more thoughtful presence. With slow, controlled steps, she walked in front of Corvus. She still had the determination of a fierce warrior, but as she approached, a subtle redness crept across her face. She noticed that her cheeks were slightly flushed, but she tried to hide it.

She stopped in front of Corvus, lowered her sword to her side and bowed her head respectfully. Her voice was soft but serious. "I salute the owner of the Black Flag," she said, choosing each word carefully. "And I await your orders with two thousand of my soldiers."

These words created a deep silence in the camp. It was almost unbelievable to those around her that Ilyada, who had just been seething with rage, could surrender so quickly. The way she restrained her warrior spirit and respected the hierarchy proved how strong willed she was.

Belisarius, on the other hand, was mesmerized as he watched this young woman standing before him and her emotions changing over and over again in a matter of minutes. Sometimes she was a raging storm, sometimes a loyal soldier, sometimes a fragile human being. This amazed Belisarius.

He looked at Corvus and sighed involuntarily when he remembered that his friend was engaged to this 'insane' woman. A wry smile spread across his face as he rolled his eyes, lost in thought. "What a luck." he muttered to himself, trying to digest this strange situation.

Corvus, on the other hand, took Ilyada's words with equanimity. The stern expression on his face maintained his authority and represented the power of the Black Flag. But inwardly he shuddered at the fact that he had to marry this woman.