Revenge: A Path of Destruction
Chapter 56: The Challenge (2)

Chapter 56: The Challenge (2)

[A/N: I decided to stop referring to the main family’s attendants as maids to avoid confusing you. They will be called Shwt, as other maids will be mentioned in the novels. Happy reading!]

....

Lady Nandi moved swiftly through the mansion’s labyrinthine corridors, her robes billowing behind her like a storm rolling across the desert. The air was thick with the scent of burning incense, mingling with the polished sandalwood floors, but none registered in her mind. Her thoughts raced ahead of her, the words of her maid still echoing like a thunderclap in her ears.

"My lady—The young master just challenged Lord Thutmose to a duel!!"

She had been on the verge of sealing her years of careful planning, ensuring every thread of her web was tightly woven, every supporter ready to strike at the opportune moment. Yet in the span of a breath, that moment of triumph had shattered into uncertainty.

She turned, her piercing gaze freezing the trembling maid in place. "What?"

The young woman swallowed hard, nodding rapidly, her chest rising and falling as if she had sprinted the entire way. "He stormed into Lord Thutmose’s chambers and declared the Combat of Geb."

The words sent a jolt through Lady Nandi, her heart pounding. Her son had always been headstrong, but this? This was beyond recklessness.

Without another word, she stormed forward, her steps striking the marble floor with a force that sent echoes ricocheting through the halls. The guards at Mankhaure’s door barely had time to react before she threw them open with a thunderous crack, the heavy wood slamming against the walls.

Inside, Mankhaure stood tall, his frame clad in the finest armor the Earth Clan could forge. The polished bronze gleamed under the chamber’s flickering oil lamps, and the engraving of an earth-shaped crest—bearing the image of a sword, spear, and shield—stood proudly upon his chest plate, a symbol of his divine lineage. A long, dark red cape draped over his shoulders, the fabric pooling like blood on the ground.

His maids fastened the final pieces of his armor with practiced precision, their fingers moving deftly. However, his focus remained unwavering as he tested the weight of his spear, rolling it between his hands like a predator sharpening its claws.

Lady Nandi’s voice rang through the chamber, slicing through the charged air like a blade. "What the hell do you think you’re doing? Why would you challenge Thutmose, knowing fully well you can’t win?!"

Mankhaure barely spared her a glance, his gaze locked on the spear in his grip. When it came his voice, was as cold and sharp as honed steel. "So you’ve already reached the same conclusion as everyone else? That I can’t win? If even my mother won’t support me, don’t bother me. Just leave."

Lady Nandi’s fury flared, her hands curling into fists. "You fool! Do you think this is about support? This is suicide! Thutmose is—"

"I know exactly who Thutmose is!" Mankhaure roared, whirling to face her, his eyes burning with resentment. "And I know exactly who you are. Do you think I’m blind? All of this—everything you’ve done—has never been for me. It’s for you. You can’t stand the thought of losing, just like how you couldn’t beat his mother when you were young. Now you’re trying to put that burden on me. But I am done being your pawn. I will prove to everyone who the rightful ruler of this family is."

Lady Nandi said nothing. For the first time, she saw her son not as a boy, or a pawn in her grand game, but as a man determined to carve his fate. And worst of all—she knew there was no changing his mind.

A maid handed Mankhaure his helmet, which he took without hesitation. He turned toward the door, his cape flowing behind him like a tide of crimson. Just before stepping out, he paused.

Without looking back, he spoke. "Just stay here, Mother. Let me bring you the crown you so love with my own hands."

And then he was gone.

....

The news spread like wildfire, tongues of gossip flickering through the mansion’s halls, igniting every chamber with whispers and speculation.

In her private quarters, Neferura sat cross-legged, the dim glow of candlelight casting shadows across her regal features. The golden adornments woven into her hair glinted as she exhaled slowly. Her meditation was broken by the arrival of her Shwt, a shadowy servant who bowed deeply before speaking.

"My lady, the First Prince has challenged Lord Thutmose to the Combat of Geb."

Her eyes snapped open, the flicker of genuine surprise betraying her otherwise composed demeanor. Mankhaure was many things—hot-headed, stubborn, foolish at times—but suicidal was not one of them.

"Interesting." Her fingers drummed idly against her knee. "This means he believes he has a chance. Or at least, he thinks he does."

Elsewhere, the Second Princess barely lifted her gaze from her workbench when the news reached her. Her fingers remained steady as she adjusted a dial on an intricate device, the soft hum of machinery filling the air.

"Foolish," she muttered absently. "A waste of time."

Then, as if the matter was beneath her attention, she returned to her research.

Menkara and Nubet lounged in a lavish chamber, the scent of incense and spiced wine thick in the air. The news had just reached them, carried by a flustered attendant who had barely managed to utter the words before Menkara burst into laughter.

"So he did it," he mused, swirling the deep red wine in his goblet. "The game has begun."

Nubet smirked, reclining comfortably as she took a slow sip. "And we get front-row seats."

The clan elders, gathered in their private chambers, reacted with measured contemplation. Aged hands stroked long beards, sharp eyes narrowing as murmurs filled the air.

"Mankhaure is a fool," one elder scoffed, shaking his head. "Challenging a warrior of Thutmose’s caliber is nothing short of madness."

Another, more thoughtful, folded his arms. "Perhaps. But desperation breeds unpredictability. We should not underestimate him just yet."

A third elder, his expression unreadable, merely sipped his tea, setting the cup down with a deliberate clink. "The tides shift. We shall soon see where this current leads."

Some saw folly, others opportunity. But all knew one thing—the Earth Clan was about to witness a battle that could reshape its future forever.

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