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Approximately 3,347 years ago, there existed a colossal kingdom of immense size and breadth that flourished in the realms of economy, political power, commerce, heroes, sorcerers, and magicians; it was called **BALLUS**.
The city of BALLUS was under the reign of a notorious king, a warrior among warriors, and a man of matchless handsomeness whose age did not exceed fifty years; he was named **ZURMATU**.
King Zurmatu was a just ruler, and everyone enjoyed the way he governed the land because he did not tolerate oppression in the slightest. However, he was completely merciless toward anyone who broke the laws of the city. Furthermore, King Zurmatu was a man who loved to witness displays of bravery; because of this, anyone who wished to gain closeness to him had to be an exceptionally legendary warrior.
In the life of King Zurmatu, nothing displeased him more than seeing a warrior who surpassed him in bravery. It was for this reason that he visited 777 different countries to learn various styles of warfare, ensuring he would become a legendary champion over whom no one could ever triumph.
From the day the king concluded his military training across these diverse nations, he gathered his entire council and announced his desire to have a **COMBAT TOURNAMENT** organized every seven days. Without any dispute, the entire council agreed. Instantly, King Zurmatu stood up and explained to them how he wanted the tournament to be structured.
A proclamation would be made inviting any warrior who held himself in high regard—both those within the city of BALLUS and warriors from neighboring countries—all were invited.
### THE STRUCTURE OF THE TOURNAMENT WOULD BE AS FOLLOWS:
First, the tournament contestants would be set aside on one side. Then, they would be called out one by one to clash with a set of special royal elite forces. It was an established fact that, aside from King Zurmatu himself, no one equaled these elites in combat prowess across the entire continent. No matter how formidable a person's bravery was, the moment they faced these elites, they would be torn to pieces within a matter of seconds.
These elite forces were exceptionally vast in number. King Zurmatu had specifically traveled to the Land of Rome to purchase over ten million of them. They were all massive, powerful brutes; their entire bodies were heavily muscled, appearing as though iron bars had been welded onto their limbs. Furthermore, they were gargantuan in stature, resembling the ancient people of Thamud (*Samudawa*). Indeed, these elites were the epitome of warriors and objects of pure terror. No matter how numerous the enemies were, the moment they laid eyes upon them, some would instantly faint while others would lose their minds out of sheer terror.
From the day King Zurmatu purchased these elite forces and brought them to his city, he ordered a massive city to be built for them with incredibly thick and fortified structures. They did nothing inside it except train themselves in warfare and wait for the King's command. King Zurmatu had prepared these specific elites solely for this tournament.
King Zurmatu continued, stating that this great tournament would be hosted in the grand arena of his palace, which could hold at least one hundred million people due to its immense size. Furthermore, the use of sorcery was strictly prohibited during the conduct of this tournament. Similarly, no one was permitted to step into the arena unless they were among the registered contestants.
Additionally, all the tournament contestants would stand on one side, while one hundred selected royal elites would be separated on the other side. From these one hundred royal elites, ten would be chosen to enter the arena first. Then, a single tournament contestant would be called to confront them. If he achieved victory over those ten, twenty more would be added against him. If he triomed over them as well, thirty more would be added, and so on, until he had completely finished off all one hundred elites.
Any warrior who managed to successfully kill all one hundred of these royal elites was promised by the king that any request he had would be granted, and the king would give him his daughter in marriage.
When the rest of the king's council heard this announcement, they all stood up in sheer shock. They knew that even if all the warriors in the world were gathered to face these royal elites, the elites would undoubtedly wipe them out in a very short time. So how could anyone imagine there was a single warrior capable of defeating one hundred of these chosen elites?
With great respect, Vizier **MIKILAS** looked at the King, his face filled with worry, and said, “Oh my leader, do you simply wish to waste the lives of the people for nothing? Because I am certain that any warrior who enters this tournament will die. Everyone knows that clashing with these elite forces of yours is like a man using his own money to buy his death and hanging it around his neck.”
When the King heard these words from the Vizier, he burst into a booming laugh, looked at the Vizier, and said, “Oh Vizier, know that the world is wide, and so too are the things within it numerous. Truly, I feel in my bones that there is a warrior capable of winning this tournament. Right now, my greatest desire is to look upon this warrior with my own two eyes so that he and I may clash, to see who will emerge victorious. Therefore, I command you to spread the announcement across cities and villages, inviting anyone who answers to the title of a warrior to this tournament three days from now, while informing each of them of the reward they will receive upon winning.”
Upon saying this, the King dismissed the gathering, and everyone went their separate ways.
As for Vizier MIKILAS, from the moment he parted from King Zurmatu, he gathered all the swift couriers he relied upon. He wrote letters for them containing the invitation for anyone wishing to enter the tournament, ordering everyone to arrive within two days. Instantly, these ten thousand couriers of the Vizier fanned out across the world, each heading in his own direction to deliver the King's message.
Meanwhile, to the west of the Kingdom of BALLUS—the realm ruled by King Zurmatu—there lay a massive land of moderate size ruled by a tyrannical king. This king was named **FALWAN**.
King FALWAN was a colossal brute of matchless size and possessed an extraordinarily hideous appearance; a person could easily vomit if they stared too long at his face due to its extreme ugliness. Just as his face was hideous, so too was his heart. No matter how small an offense a person committed, his judgment was always execution or life imprisonment in a terrifying dungeon, which he had guarded by one hundred thousand soldiers to secure the prisoners.
Anyone unfortunate enough to be taken to this prison would never have their corpse leave it; instead, the body would be left to rot and decay until the bones became a skeleton. They would then be gathered and taken to a special chamber designed for the sorcery and rituals that secured the King's life and reign.
King FALWAN had a notoriously wicked son who was famous for his cruelty and black heart. Furthermore, he was an incomparable warrior, to the point that people believed he surpassed his father in bravery, especially seeing how he could perform miraculous feats that no one else on the continent could replicate. Due to the extreme prowess of Prince **FAZAMAL IBN FALWAN**, he could confront one hundred warriors entirely unarmed and successfully break them all without a single one managing to even graze his skin.
In the life of Prince Fazamal, there was nothing he loved more than the daughter of King Zurmatu, Princess **MARITA**. He had only ever laid eyes upon her beautiful face once through the magic mirror of his father's sorcerer. From that very moment, her love and longing nested deeply within his heart, to the extent that he could no longer sleep or eat because of his intense passion for her.
This was entirely due to the matchless beauty of Princess Marita, which exceeded all imagination. No matter how hardened a person's heart was, the moment they encountered her, they would instantly fall deeply in love with her. Indeed, it was because of the Princess's extreme beauty that the King had surrounded her with security measures so tight that no warrior from humankind or the jinn could ever reach her. Even the servants of the royal palace were not permitted to see her, save for a few select maidservants who directly cared for her.
The reason Prince Fazamal had seen Princess Marita’s beautiful face was that one day, King FALWAN had summoned his sorcerer to discover a way to successfully assassinate King Zurmatu and usurp his throne. For a long time, King FALWAN had no greater desire than to conquer the city of BALLUS through war, but it remained an impossible task because King Zurmatu possessed a vast multitude of warriors and wicked weapons the likes of which had never been seen in history.
Furthermore, scholars had confirmed that King Zurmatu himself was a true warrior, and it was believed that no one in the world could stand toe-to-toe with him for even one hundred seconds without being brought down, regardless of how great their bravery was. Additionally, in terms of magical power, King Zurmatu possessed exceptional sorcerers who had no equal in strength across the continent.
During the consultation by King FALWAN's sorcerer, his magic mirror illuminated the face of Princess Marita. The sorcerer assured them they could set their minds at ease, for in the near future, King Zurmatu would organize a combat tournament, promising that whoever won it would become the husband of Princess Marita. Upon seeing this vision, King FALWAN burst into a mad laugh, believing he had found a way to seize power over the land of BALLUS peacefully and without any hardship. Specifically, if he or his son, Prince Fazamal, won the tournament, he would marry the Princess to his son, while he himself would ascend the throne, leaving the governance of their original land to his son to continue ruling.
About seven months after this event, while King FALWAN was seated upon his throne executing his cruel governance, a courier from the City of BALLUS suddenly marched through the center of the palace holding a scroll. Instantly, the palace fell silent as everyone fixed their eyes upon him until he arrived before the King. He dismounted his horse, knelt in greeting, and said, “Oh leader, this is a message from the King of the World, King Zurmatu of the city of BALLUS, inviting every warrior of your city to a grand, special tournament with a massive reward for whoever wins. Furthermore, he states that any warrior interested in entering the tournament must present himself in the City of BALLUS within two days.”
The courier finished speaking, took his horse, mounted it, turned back, and galloped away.
Upon hearing this good news, King FALWAN was overcome with intense joy, bursting into laughter unconsciously. Instantly, he gave orders to prepare for their journey—himself and Prince Fazamal—along with a personal escort of seventy thousand elite troops. Preparations began immediately, and early the next morning, he left the care of his kingdom to his vizier and set out on the road to the city of BALLUS.
Back in the city of BALLUS, news of the tournament had already filled every corner. Everyone was eager for the day to arrive so they could feast their eyes on the spectacles of warriors competing. Within a very short time, the city of BALLUS became completely packed with visiting warriors wishing to enter the competition. Any warrior who arrived to participate was immediately escorted to the tournament judges to pay the entry fee and register their name.
In just two days, eighty thousand distinct, formidable warriors had registered for the combat tournament. All the tournament judges were astonished by how massive the number of contestants had become. What they did not know was that a large number of the contestants were actually Jinn and famous sorcerers who had transformed themselves into human form to gain the chance to win the tournament and claim Princess Marita.
Alas! The proverb-makers spoke the truth when they said, *"Ignorance is darker than the night."* Surely, if these tournament contestants had known what was to follow, they would never have recklessly entered this competition, for the peril within it was far greater than the might of all the people of the world combined.
On the evening of the second day, King FALWAN arrived with his forces and entered the city of BALLUS. Upon their arrival, King Zurmatu received them with immense joy. Without wasting time, King Zurmatu ordered them to be taken to their lodgings, sending them an abundance of various foods and drinks. Instantly, King FALWAN dispatched one of his soldiers to the tournament judges to pay the entry fees for himself, his prince son, and one thousand of his finest elite warriors who were legendary combatants. The soldier executed the command immediately and returned within a few moments.
Early the next morning, everyone began flocking to the arena. Within a short time, the arena was completely filled to maximum capacity. No space was left except for the central circle where the warriors would clash, and the seats reserved for King Zurmatu, Princess Marita, and other visiting monarchs like FALWAN and Prince FAZAMAL.
Without wasting any time, once King Zurmatu and his retinue had assembled, he gave the command to commence the tournament. Instantly, a champion warrior from among the contestants was called out; his name was **MARGIM**.
Champion Margim was a warrior of hardened courage and wondrous martial skill; furthermore, he possessed extraordinary luck and fortune in everything he set his mind to achieve. When champion Margim stepped into the arena, the crowd erupted into cheers and applause, as he was the very first warrior to open the combat.
Instantly, the one hundred royal elites were summoned into the arena. Ten were separated from among them, stepping forward to stand directly in front of champion Margim. The moment the crowd laid eyes upon these royal elites, they were struck with terror. Many felt the urge to flee out of sheer fright. Even many of the tournament contestants felt their hearts drop in absolute terror, instantly regretting entering the tournament as they realized they had effectively used their own money to purchase their execution.
When champion Margim faced these giant brutes, his heart pounded violently. However, due to the resolute courage typical of true men, he refused to show any sign of weakness on his face. Drawing his sword, he faced the ten elite giants. Seeing this, many in the crowd began to weep, anticipating the brutal slaughter these elites would inflict upon him; for while eyes are not measuring cups, they can recognize scale.
Instantly, King Zurmatu gave the order to beat the drum to signal the start of the tournament. The massive drum was struck, its booming sound filling the entire arena.
Instantly, the elites charged toward CHAMPION MARGIM with the intention of tearing his limbs to pieces. Champion Margim moved to intercept them before they could reach him. Alas, calamity does not give advance notice, and true terror surpasses a child's understanding!
As these elites sprinted furiously toward champion Margim, they launched into a massive leap, intending to land on him all at once, crushing and killing him instantly. Unexpectedly, champion Margim struck the ground with one foot and propelled himself into the air as if thrown from a sling. The elites crashed heavily onto the ground at the exact same moment, delivering a monstrous blow to the earth. Due to the sheer power of the strike, their hands buried deep into the ground, leaving a gaping trench.
At this sight, the anxiety of everyone in the arena spiked. Even the other tournament contestants were deeply terrified, realizing that winning this tournament was no small tribulation. Champion MARGIM, however, did not lose heart. He gripped his sword even tighter, facing them with the intent to fight with weapons, knowing they far surpassed him in raw physical strength.
When the elites saw that champion Margim held his sword firmly and faced them, they all burst into laughter, assuming that within less than fifty seconds, they would scatter his body parts across the arena. Instantly, they all drew massive, broad cleavers slung across their backs—blades of extreme thickness and sharpness capable of splitting anything in two, even solid rock. They rushed toward him, roaring and shouting like lions that had gone ten days without food.
Seeing this, he also ran to meet them at a furious pace. Upon colliding, they became entangled in a fierce, terrifying battle where the afterlife could claim a guest at any second. The attacks they launched at champion Margim were beyond measure; each of them could deliver five slashes or thrusts within a mere ten seconds. However, the thing that astonished the crowd most was that despite this relentless onslaught, not a single one of them could manage to even touch Margim's body due to his extraordinary agility and lightning-fast evasion.
The elites threw the entire audience into a state of panic, as the deafening sound of their swords clashing against Champion Margim’s blade caused the earth to tremble and sparks to fly like fire. An hour and a half passed without either side achieving any success. This greatly astonished the KING'S ELITES; in their entire lives, they had never encountered a warrior they failed to slaughter within fifty seconds. Yet today, ten of them had fought for over an hour and a half and could not kill a single man.
Instantly, they became deeply enraged. Unleashing a ferocious roar, they rushed him simultaneously to tear him apart. Suddenly, CHAMPION MARGIM executed a massive leap, raising his sword high into the air. In a brilliant move of pure distraction and raw agility, he delivered a powerful strike to the neck of the leader of the elites, intending to sever his head.
To his utter amazement, the blade did not even leave a scratch, feeling as though he had struck a solid boulder. Before he could make another move, the leader of the elites delivered a devastating backhand blow to his face. Due to the immense force of the strike, CHAMPION MARGIM flew through the air for five hundred seconds before crashing violently to the ground in a terrible state, lying completely motionless as if unconscious or dying.
Seeing this, the leader of the elites erupted into a mad, victorious laugh. He looked at one of his subordinates and ordered him to go and sever CHAMPION MARGIM's head. With immense excitement, the soldier ran to execute the command. Reaching Margim, he raised his broad cleaver to strike off his head.
Suddenly and unexpectedly, CHAMPION MARGIM surged with raw agility. Striking the ground with his hands, he launched both feet into the air, kicking the soldier squarely in the chest. Due to the crushing force of the blow, the soldier's left ribs shattered with a loud, snapping sound like breaking twigs. In a flash, CHAMPION MARGIM snatched the soldier's own sword and cleanly severed his head.
The arena erupted into wild cheers and applause, honoring champion MARGIM for achieving a legendary feat that no one had ever accomplished before. As for King Zurmatu, he was overwhelmed with absolute astonishment at Margim's extreme bravery, which seemed almost non-human. His mind became deeply unsettled; he had never seen a champion with such physical power and speed. He instantly resolved in his heart to thoroughly investigate Champion Margim to discover his true identity.
Meanwhile, King FALWAN and Prince FAZAMAL sat
