Chapter 115: Chapter 15, Episode 4: The End of Habib
Kikali didnât ask if it was true, or that he didnât believe it, or any other question along those lines. Suspicion and mistrust would only insult the great warrior, and compromise his honor.
Pieff was the only one who couldnât regain his composure.
âBlack Mamba. This will be an amazing coup. You will be given the Legion DâHonneur. Iâll remain as a hostage but you must arrest this butcher!â
âMy God, this manâs lack of understanding is incredible.â Black Mamba grabbed the back of his neck.
He had brought him along to translate because he said he had been stationed in Algeria, but his Arabic was terrible. He would have been more useful if he had simply kept quiet. He was a fraud who sprayed sand everywhere without wit.
Black Mamba calmly approached him and whispered in his ear.
âCommander, one more word and Iâll beat you up.â
Pieff tripped backward. The fear of being swallowed whole by a great white shark engulfed his entire body.
Language was created by the brain. The vocal cords were controlled by the dysarthria, after passing the nervous system and motor nerves. In a situation where someone couldnât find their words, it meant the loss of the brainâs ability to calculate and sequence vocabulary. Even if there wasnât a problem with the articulation, a strong shock to the brain could cause muteness. Pieff, who had had his calculative brain compromised, could only roll his eyes.
Kikali lowered his voice.
Many of Habibâs subordinates followed him on instinct.
âBlack Mamba. The Tuareg tribe has chosen to walk the path of the Tuareg. Habib is a butcher who knows no honor. I do not want to receive a rotten apple. I decline your offer.â
Kikali narrowed his eyes and turned to look at Saoud, who had just returned from treating his wrist. He smiled. It meant that he was doing well.
âHmm!â Black Mamba grunted.
This was not what he was expecting. It was a difficult situation, as he had regarded the exchange of hostages as a done deal. His dark, sunken eyes stared at Kikali.
âIs this the reincarnation of Yeo Po, the icon of betrayal? No, itâs more like the Tumu Crisis.â
There wasnât a single person who didnât know of Yeo Po, who was a professional at murdering foster fathers. The Tumu Crisis was the story of the sixth Ming Emperor Zhu Qizhen who was held hostage by the Mongols near Tumu. The Mongol leader Essen offered an exchange for Zhu Qizhen, but his brother Zhu Jianshen refused and ascended the throne. He became the Chenghua Emperor. In short, the Tumu Crisis, was when Emperor Zhu Qizhen was a hostage and he was denied an exchange by his brother.
Kikali was also someone who vied to take charge when his boss was kidnapped. He was like a cuckoo. Black Mamba wanted to hand Habib over black and blue, but now that plan was ruined, he lost his enthusiasm.
âShould I turn this b*stard into Zhu Qizhen?â
Esen was very clever in trying to return Zhu Qizhen without conditions. The northern faction was in conflict due to the division between Zhu Qizhen and Zhu Jianshen. In the end, Zhu Qizhen was dethroned and assassinated. It would be worth seeing what would happen if Habib learned what Kikali had said before releasing him.
âDo I need to kill them all?â
A thin red aura began to seep from Black Mambaâs eyes. It was the animalistic nature of a Paranthropus. Black Mamba was unforgiving of betrayers and backstabbers. A Paranthropusâ animalistic instinct was violence and full-frontal attack. Many of his comrades held captive would die, but that was their fate.
âI need a more rewarding exchange.â
Black Mamba raised his head. His burning eyes glared at Kikaliâs face. In fear, which seemed to stab through his brain, Kikali immediately turned away. Saoud and Pieff came into sight. Saoud was smiling, and Pieff looked as though he might cry.
âIt seems like Black Mamba thinks his commander has an inferior combat ability and doesnât know how to read the situation.â
Kikali shook off his fear by giving Pieff a mocking smile. It was the same words Pieff had once said to Sergeant Himlet while testing Black Mamba a year before.
âThe reward I want is you, Black Mamba. I want to work with you. I respect your strong combat ability and Iâve been swayed by your sincerity towards people.â
âAre you an Amenokal?â Black Mamba asked out of the blue.
âYou know a lot. I am TIbestiâs Atibel [2] Amenokal. [3] If we work together weâd be able to create a Tuareg kingdom, connecting Nigeriaâs Bilma and Tibesti regions. There will be over 40 thousand if we unite all the Tuaregs in the Sahel. Youâll become a king.â
âPutting aside the fact Iâm not king material, will Libya, who are under Soviet control, watch the Tuareg kingdom grow right under their noses?â
âWith your talent and fame, weâll be able to unite all the tribes in the Sahel. If they can live in comfort without a threat to their lives theyâll support us. If we take over the buffer zone between Libya and Chad, weâll achieve international recognition.â
Black Mamba looked at the middle-aged Tuareg warrior who was speaking with passion.
âDid this guy read âThe Three Kingdomsâ several times or something?â
He sounded like Zhuge Liang discussing the three divisions. His give and take dealings were a mix of Cao Cao and Liu Bei. He wasnât a cuckoo but a raccoon. He was someone to be wary of.
âIâm not someone whoâs troubled by an old Tuareg servant. Iâll pretend that this discussion never happened.â
When Black Mamba refused sharply, Saoud spoke up.
âBlack Mamba, sir. How long do you intend to remain Franceâs knife? Donât you want to be the owner of a harem with hundreds of beauties under your control? Donât you want to choose meals served by the best cook in the world every day? The Chinese idea of a plentiful banquet of millions is the dream romance of any man of the desert.â
A smile formed on Black Mambaâs mouth.
âCould I put Hae Young in that harem? Her mum would appear with a bat in her hand!â
âSaoud, Iâm a man of simple tastes, which arenât enough to keep a woman. Iâm satisfied with a single piece of ugali and a cup of date wine.â
Black Mamba paused, and then glared at Kikali.
âI can say one thing for certain. The first problem you Tuareg have is your mentality of victimization and the notion of being a chosen people. Your tribe is still wielding the shamshir and raiding caravans. You long for the slavery of the past and are still using slaves. Isnât your belligerence the reason why the European powers refuse your independence?â
âHmm! I see thereâs a large cultural and social misunderstanding here. A humanâs rank is determined the moment theyâre born. Noble blood is different from the very beginning.â
âI believe the status of a human being begins with acknowledging another human being. All you have to do is be loyal to your position as the Tuaregâs Amenokal, while I remain loyal to my role as a mercenary.â
Kikaliâs face relaxed. He wasnât simply a strong man. He was educated and had a resolute personality. He wasnât someone to be swayed.
âI donât want to have you as my enemy. We might not be friends, but Iâd like us to remain good neighbors.â
âIt appears the Tuareg tribe wonât be lost any longer under a leader like you. Iâll accept your request. Allahu Akbar!â
Black Mamba took off his litam and revealed his face. As he extended his right hand, Kikali smacked his palm with the others twice. It was the Tuareg tribeâs expression for agreement and accepting the other as a neighbor.
âBlack Mamba, I have a request, too.â
Kikali took out his khanjar. Black Mamba nodded and drew his kukri. It was said that the Tuareg Immoharenâs pride reached the skies. He had also heard that their technique, which had been refined and improved over hundreds of years, was astounding. Of course, someone who talked without experience had to taste the paste to tell whether it was chili or bean. It was the same for him.
The last quarter of the moon hung in the desert sky.
âOooo, Kikali, Kikali!â
The guerrillas chanted with torches in their hands.
Kikali wasnât able to move for five minutes.
His opponent stood with his left hand holding the Kukri limp by his side, without making any defensive stance.
Kikali rubbed his eyes once more. This was the third time. Every time he tried to attack his opponent he blurred as though he was made of magical grains. The moment he relaxed his intention to attack, pressure like a mountain pressed him from all sides.
âAs expected, Azrael!â
Kikali relinquished the need to win. This was a human who had overstepped the boundary of being human. He was able to relax, once he abandoned his goal and accepted the exchange as a lesson.
Kikaliâs body swayed from side to side.
It was the Mutember that the Tuareg tribe had mastered. With each step forward, there was half a step back from side to side. It was a dance that blurred the attackerâs target point as the distance closed. At the height of its momentum, they were able to move from side to side like water.
âSo thatâs how he did it!â Pieff exclaimed.
He hadnât realized when they were fighting but now understood why he had lost. He had waved his hand around meaninglessly at the strange footwork, unable to pinpoint where to strike.
Kikali aimed an extended kick to the lower body with immense strength. As soon as the opponentâs balance was shaken, he would attack with his khanjar. It was Kikaliâs strongest move, which made the opponent expect a stabbing attack and thereby create confusion.
Black Mamba hadnât budged an inch. Kikali, who had made a swipe at his legs, now groaned at the bone-shattering pain. It wasnât a human leg, but a metal beam.
Kikaliâs chest was struck by a palm and he quickly staggered back. It was a single blow of immense power.
Saoud intervened to prevent Kikali from falling over. Thanks to him, he was able to avoid the embarrassment of rolling onto the ground. Kikali shoved Saoud away.
âThank you for your consideration.â
âNow, letâs go see my friends, shall we?â
âKanma, no, Black Mamba, sir, weâve unfortunately had to kill five people,â Saoud said with a stricken face.
âWhat! You barbaric b*stards! Did you kill some prisoners? Donât you know what the Geneva Agreement says?â Pieff shoved his finger at Saoud with a reddened face.
Pieff still hadnât understood just how savage the Sahel really was.
âIâm sorry, but they were critically ill. There are no hospitals like in France out here. Their lives were bound to end in pain. I have been benevolent!â Saoud attacked Pieff in return.
Seeing an old white b*stard acting out in front of great warriors made his mood turn sour.
âWha⊠what did you say? Youâre a first-rate murderer! Iâll make you stand trial in Paris, no, at the international court!â Pieff jumped up and down in rage.
âUgh! This b*stardâs driving me crazy.â
Black Mamba was stressed out.
âCommander, this is the Sahel, and weâve met as enemies. Itâs unfortunate, but thereâs nothing we can do.â
âGet out of the way Black Mamba. Iâll kill all these b*stards!â
Pieff raised the rifle he was using as a crutch.
A loud crack rang out. Black Mamba slapped the back of Pieffâs neck with his hand.
âYou jjonman-ah, Iâm sad too. So? Are you going to give up on your life, too? Try rolling around in the Sahel for a month or two, you b*stard, and then youâll understand what Saoud is saying.â
Doubt suddenly rose in Pieffâs darkening mind.
âWhat does jjonman-ah mean? It sounds like a Korean swear word, like nigimi ddugural.â
âBlack Mamba. The FROLINAT may disband, but they will never stop tracking you down. The FAP, especially, will attach themselves like ticks. The FAP warlords have decided to let their next leader be the one who takes off your head.â
âHa, those poor things! What are they going to do with a privateâs head? Iâll tell you something. The Tuareg tribeâs Immoharen is my servant. I wonât consider you my enemy in consideration of my servant. Rather, Iâll help if I can.â
Kikali lowered his head. The words of a great warrior carried more weight than a mountain. With Kanmaâs cooperation, the coalition of the Tuareg tribes would become much easier.
At an hour after midnight, six camels left Boruku Oasis.
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On the back of the camels were all those who had been held captive, Pieff, Valboir, Sergeant Centienne, Officer Maxime, and Sergeant Bronin. Their mood had turned into rage throughout the two days due to the violence and the lack of food. Black Mamba wasnât bothered by his comradesâ moans. They were better off dead if they couldnât withstand such minor pain. He enjoyed the night air on the head camelâs back as though he had just visited a neighbor.
[2] a large gathering of tawshet, a small tribe
{3} title for the highest Tuareg traditional chiefs