Jaruman Duniya Compelet Mansur Usman Sufi

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JARUMAN DUNIYA (The World's Warriors) – Volume 1

Author: Mansur Usman Sufi

The Realm of Mufrad and the Rivalry

In a long-forgotten era of antiquity, when ignorance cast a dark shroud over the hearts of mankind, raw strength and ruthlessness became the only currency of value, while mercy and justice vanished entirely from the world.
During this time, there existed a vast territory in the Arabian region known as the continent of Mufrad. The continent of Mufrad was notoriously infamous for its endless wars, tyrannical oppression, and dark sorcery. Every king whose army or magical prowess surpassed that of his neighbor would ruthlessly launch a campaign, conquer the rival territory, and forcefully absorb it into his own domain.
Two dominant super-kingdoms stood out above all others on the continent.
The first nation was known as Madinatul-Husuf, and King Baddadul-Arus held its scepter of absolute power. King Baddadul-Arus was a mountain of a man, built like the giant warriors of the ancient Thamud people. He possessed extraordinary combat prowess, and to make him even more formidable, he was a renowned grand sorcerer.
He had an only child, a exceptionally beautiful daughter named Uzaima. Princess Uzaima grew up surrounded by immense luxury and peace, yet she developed into a legendary warrior—a woman possessing the fierce strength and spirit of a man. Whenever King Baddadul-Arus decided to launch a military raid against another nation, he and his daughter Uzaima would single-handedly orchestrate the invasion and execute a violent COUP D'ÉTAT against the ruling king.
In his entire life, King Baddadul-Arus cherished nothing more than this daughter of his. For this very reason, wherever he went, they were completely inseparable, parting ways only when it was time to sleep.
The second nation was known as Darul-Kushur, ruled by King Himras. King Himras was a champion warrior who shattered enemy ranks on the battlefield. He was profoundly famous for his mastery over occult talismans, dark sorcery, and his vast, immeasurable wealth.
He had an only son named Muzaifar. Prince Muzaifar was strikingly handsome and a warrior of global renown. He possessed such terrifying strength that he could single-handedly lay waste to an entire city and conquer it in battle without a single soul aiding him. Due to his exceptional martial prowess, many in the realm believed his physical might far surpassed that of his father, King Himras. The entire populace of the city of Darul-Kushur lived in absolute terror of Prince Muzaifar, knowing him to be a ruthless and merciless tyrant.
Within the kingdom of Darul-Kushur, there were seven lesser kings, all of whom were subjugated under the supreme rule of King Himras. Every year, these vassal kings collectively paid Himras an exorbitant tribute amounting to eight million five hundred thousand gold dinars. Every single one of these rulers had been forcefully overthrown by King Himras through sheer, brutal military might.
These two monarchs, King Himras and King Baddadul-Arus, were bitter, sworn enemies. Driven by this intense hatred, they had clashed in open warfare forty-two times, yet neither side could ever secure a decisive victory; every battle ended in a bloody, deadlocked tie.
The ultimate ambition of each king was to overthrow his rival through a coup d'état, thereby crowning himself the absolute king of kings over the entire continent. Because of the sheer intensity of the animosity between the two rulers, no citizen from one kingdom dared cross the border into the other; doing so carried an immediate and absolute death penalty. Furthermore, Princess Uzaima and Prince Muzaifar harbored a deep, mutual hatred for one another that burned even hotter than the rivalry of their fathers.
When the two kings eventually realized that neither could eliminate the other through conventional military numbers, they both retreated deep into their respective sorcery chambers to uncover a mystical method to conquer the continent.
On the very same day, both kings discovered the solution through their dark arts—yet the path to victory was fraught with extreme, deadly peril.
What the kings discovered was that neither could eliminate his rival unless he successfully acquired a series of highly elusive, magical artifacts. Attempting to seek them out was the literal equivalent of unleashing a HUNDRED PLAGUES upon oneself.
First, the kings had to obtain a mystical sorcery medallion kept inside an ancient tomb within the city of Rum. This specific tomb had been constructed inside a sealed chamber, and for nine hundred years, not a single living soul had ever set foot where it lay. The tomb originally belonged to a notoriously powerful wizard who had once ruled over the city of Rum. If a person managed to claim this medallion, they could use its power to resurrect a deceased grand sorcerer in the city of Kisra. This sorcerer was the only being who knew the laws and cosmic conditions governing the quest the kings had to undertake. The sorcerer's name was Sharubu, and he had already been dead for seven hundred years.
The second item the kings had to possess was a HEXED BOOK hidden deep inside an ancient, forgotten well located in the ruined palace of Wizard Zammar, a sorcerer whose era had passed long ago.
The final artifact the kings had to acquire was a legendary, enchanted blade known as the MAGIC SWORD. The sword was heavily guarded inside the palace of the third most powerful wizard king in the world. It was impossible to gain entry into this palace unless one chanted specific occult talismans contained within that very same Hexed Book.
The Magic Sword possessed four profound secrets:

• The First Secret: If a person held it, no form of sorcery or magic could ever affect them.
• The Second Secret: Anything struck by the blade—whether human or jinn—would instantly dissolve and melt away.

• The Third Secret: Whoever mastered it would become a figure of absolute terror among his fellow men, capable of manipulating its power exactly as he pleased.
  The sorcerers of the world had unanimously agreed that among all the jinn kings in history, none had ever been as brutally powerful as Wizard Ayyamul-Layal. He was the only entity who had single-handedly waged war against half the world's monarchs and brought them under his absolute rule. He had been on the verge of conquering the remaining half when death claimed him, following a fierce, cataclysmic battle against a warrior who was a devout follower of Islam.
  To even reach the ancient palace of Wizard Ayyamul-Layal, a seeker had to successfully cross nine treacherous, malevolent forests. To this very day, sorcerers have utterly failed to quantify the true extent of the horrors and catastrophes lurking within those woods.
  When the two kings witnessed the colossal, near-impossible task ahead of them to claim the Magic Sword, their minds were deeply troubled. They feared that death would easily claim them before they could ever achieve their ultimate ambition. Yet, the moment they recalled the bitter malice that existed between them, each king steeled his resolve to journey out into the world and claim the sword at all costs.

  The Clash at the Well

  One afternoon, following his usual routine, Prince Muzaifar rode out to patrol the city for his own amusement and recreation. He was mounted upon a magnificent stallion, dressed in full, imposing battle armor that radiated a terrifying aura of power. A vanguard of giant warriors, clad in blood-red uniforms, marched closely behind him.
  A single glance at these guards confirmed they were exceptional elite warriors with hardened, fearless hearts. The entire battalion carried brutal weapons that posed a lethal threat to any living creature.
  As Prince Muzaifar and his guards continued their march through the capital city of Darul-Kushur, a familiar pattern unfolded: wherever the citizens caught sight of them from afar, they scattered frantically in all directions as if they had looked death itself in the face. The local merchants were no exception; they hurriedly gathered their goods and fled at top speed, consumed by absolute panic.
  If Prince Muzaifar and his guards managed to overtake anyone who had failed to run away, the soldiers would instantly beat the unfortunate soul to the ground with the heavy clubs in their hands, leaving them dead on the spot without even a struggle.
  The prince and his vanguard had been riding ruthlessly for three uninterrupted hours. As they pressed on, Prince Muzaifar noticed that his stallion was growing exhausted and desperately needed water. The moment this thought crossed his mind, the prince spotted a large well a short distance away. A crowd of citizens had gathered there; some were watering their livestock, while others were washing their garments.
  Without a moment's hesitation, the prince yanked his horse's reins and headed straight for the well.
  Sure enough, the moment the people at the well caught sight of the approaching prince, they fled the area in terror, running for their lives. Within the blink of an eye, the area was entirely deserted—save for a young woman and an incredibly frail, elderly man who stood their ground and refused to run.
  This unexpected sight completely caught the prince off guard and astonished him. In all his time conducting patrols across the city, such an act of defiance had never occurred. What on earth does this young woman possess to make her stand before me without flinching? he wondered.
  What puzzled Prince Muzaifar even more was her attire. The clothes covering the maiden's body were completely ragged and threadbare. In fact, despite their advanced age, the clothes worn by the old man beside her were far cleaner than her own. Furthermore, she carried absolutely no visible weapon on her person that could justify such arrogance.
  Behind the prince, the hearts of his elite guards began to burn with fury, their bodies trembling with rage. They were merely waiting for a single command to fall upon the maiden and tear her apart.
  When Prince Muzaifar arrived at the edge of the well, he watched as the young woman calmly continued to draw water, pouring it into her leather skin without once turning around to look at him. His blood boiled with a violent rage. The insult was too much to bear: a common, nameless woman was openly disrespecting him—a powerful prince and a world-renowned warrior.
  In a fit of fury, the prince swung a brutal punch aimed directly at her left cheek, intending to smash her to the ground.
  With extraordinary grace, the beautiful maiden ducked swiftly, causing the prince's fist to strike empty air.
  Instantly, they locked into a fierce, brutal hand-to-hand combat. They unleashed a rapid volley of punches, strikes, and kicks upon each other, displaying astonishing agility, endurance, and martial skill. At certain moments, the maiden would leap high into the air, balancing her feet precariously across opposite sides of the well's rim, while continuously raining down powerful blows on Prince Muzaifar with miraculous speed.
  While this savage duel raged between Prince Muzaifar and the beautiful maiden, citizens watched the unfolding events through cracked windows from a safe distance. When they witnessed the fierce, catastrophic nature of the battle, they were completely struck with awe and disbelief. What baffled them the most was the sheer impossibility of the scene: a prince of the realm locked in an even match against a young woman.
  Instantly, a profound suspicion arose in their minds: Could this legendary warrior be none other than Princess Uzaima, the daughter of King Baddadul-Arus, disguised in rags solely to fight Prince Muzaifar? Unable to answer their own questions, they kept their eyes glued to the scene to see how the conflict would end.
  When the prince realized that a full hour had passed without him gaining the upper hand over the maiden, he completely shifted his fighting style, leaping through the air and launching a relentless barrage of martial strikes.
  Ah! The elders were indeed wise when they said: "When you see a bold challenge, it simply means an equal match has not yet arrived." And truly, when an expert meets another expert, lesser warriors can only stand aside as spectators.
  That was precisely the case for the prince's vanguard. Mid-battle, they rushed forward brandishing their lethal weapons. Yet, when they witnessed the terrifying intensity of the duel, they quickly retreated to the sidelines and simply watched with wide eyes.
  As the battle pressed on, a jarring thought struck Prince Muzaifar: What kind of exceptionally gifted warrior have I encountered today? She is on the verge of thoroughly humiliating me in front of my own people! This is truly what the wise mean when they say, "When a powerful force meets its match, even a spirit steps on fire."
  The moment that thought concluded, the prince gave his guards a sharp, sideways glance—a silent, non-verbal command.
  As if they had been waiting for that exact signal, the guards raised their weapons into the air, letting out a terrifying, blood-curdling war cry. They lunged forward toward the blind old man—the maiden's father—intending to slaughter him on the spot.
  When they were barely six paces away from striking him, suddenly, out of nowhere, the blind man executed a spectacular, towering leap from his position. He threw his chest forward, striking the chest of the leading guard with all his physical might. The force of the impact was so immense that the armored soldier was launched into the air as if pulled upward by a crane, before crashing violently back down to the earth like a felled bull.
  Seeing this, the remaining guards froze in absolute shock. Witnessing a blind old man display such miraculous martial prowess left them with massive, lingering questions.
  In the next instant, they swarmed him with a vicious assault, launching a barrage of sword slashes, spear thrusts, and heavy club strikes. The old man, however, continuously parried their relentless attacks using only the wooden walking staff he leaned on, retaliating with an astonishing display of endurance and legendary skill.
  Had any outsider been present to witness this chaotic clash, they would have sworn under oath that the old man was fully sighted, not blind. A single glance at his form revealed that in his youth, he had been a supreme warrior of global stature. Even in his advanced age, the unmistakable aura of a legendary champion remained fully intact.
  Alas! The blind man became an insurmountable obstacle to the guards—a thorn in their side. They were completely powerless against him as he continuously dragged them off their horses, dealing them devastating, fatal blows.
  When Prince Muzaifar caught sight of the chaotic state of his vanguard out of the corner of his eye, his heart swelled with unprecedented fury. Seizing a moment when the maiden was distracted, he blindsided her, landing a brutal punch squarely on her face while her feet were split across the mouth of the well.
  Her footing slipped, and she began to fall backward into the deep opening. However, she managed to brace her body against a protruding stone wall inside, immediately throwing a powerful counter-punch just as the prince leaped forward to land on the well's edge.
  The maiden's strike hit its mark. Prince Muzaifar’s feet slipped, and he plunged directly into the well.
  Yet, displaying the superhuman reflexes of a world-class warrior, he refused to let himself hit the bottom of the pit. He braced his legs firmly against the opposite walls of the shaft, and right there, suspended inside the well, they stubbornly continued to trade fierce punches and heavy blows with relentless, vicious determination.
  Without a doubt, Prince Muzaifar had met his absolute match—a woman with the spirit of a king and a warrior queen among warriors.
  For another half hour, they continuously battered one another. Every time one managed to land a clean blow, the other's head would smash violently against the stone wall of the well, causing them to slide downward toward the dark water, only to stubbornly check their fall, pull themselves up, and strike back with a vengeance. The most astonishing aspect of the duel was their supernatural stamina; despite enduring a grueling, prolonged exchange of heavy blows, neither fighter showed the slightest hint of exhaustion.
  In the heat of this fierce struggle, the maiden caught the prince off guard, landing a devastating punch directly to his face. The prince's head slammed violently against the stone wall, splitting his scalp open. Blood erupted from the wound. The intense, burning pain was so overwhelming that the prince let out an involuntary scream as his grip failed, causing him to plunge straight down into the depths below.
  Having secured this magnificent victory, the beautiful maiden leaned over, looking down at the prince who now lay thoroughly soaked and defeated in the water. A soft, elegant smile played upon her lips.
  She then gripped the stone walls of the well, scaling her way upward with the fluid ease of a lizard moving along a wall.
  The moment she emerged from the well, the guards who were still locked in combat with her father caught sight of her. Terrified by her sudden reappearance, every single soldier halted their attack and retreated in fear.
  The beautiful maiden knelt on the ground, picked up her leather water skin, slung it securely across her back, and walked over to take her father's hand. Together, they turned and walked away, leaving the remaining guards staring after them in absolute awe and bewilderment.
  It was during this tense silence that Prince Muzaifar finally climbed out of the well. His body was thoroughly drenched, and blood flowed freely from the deep gash on his head. When the guards saw the battered state of their prince, absolute panic gripped them, yet none possessed the courage to step forward and console him.
  The prince, however, completely ignored his men. He fixed his gaze intently on the retreating figure of the beautiful maiden without making any move to pursue her. Suddenly, the maiden stopped dead in her tracks. She turned her head back, and as their eyes locked, they both offered each other a soft, tender smile. In that singular, profound moment, an intense, overwhelming love sparked between them, deeply binding their hearts.
  The maiden finally broke the gaze, turning away to resume her walk until she and her father vanished from sight.
  With a heavy, subdued spirit, the prince walked over to his stallion, took the reins, and began the long journey back. His remaining guards followed closely behind, silently spurring their horses forward. From the moment they left the well until they arrived at the royal palace, the prince did not utter a single word.

  The Prophecy of Jarul-Iman

  Meanwhile, in the rival kingdom, stood a magnificent, sprawling palace adorned with the finest luxuries and worldly pleasures imaginable. No matter how powerful a nobleman or how wealthy a merchant was, the moment they stepped inside this grand court, they would instantly feel like an unrefined peasant, completely humbled by its scale.
  Seated upon the throne of power was King Baddadul-Arus. King Baddadul-Arus was a massive, imposing figure of a man, built like an elephant. He possessed a deceptively small head, a massive protruding stomach, and a short, perfectly round white beard that measured no longer than a single hand span.
  Seated to his right, on a highly decorated luxury chair of honor, was Princess Uzaima. She was dressed in a striking, flowing golden cloak that perfectly accentuated her beautiful, statuesque figure. Truly, wherever beauty was defined, Princess Uzaima was its epitome; if a beauty pageant were held across the world, she would effortlessly claim the crown.
  At this moment, the eyes of everyone present in the palace court were fixed on her, stealing glances at her radiant form. Even her fellow women could only stare open-mouthed, utterly captivated by her exceptional beauty.
  The entire palace court was dead silent, so quiet that one could hear a pin drop. Suddenly, the princess shattered the silence. Turning to her father, she spoke in a sweet, melodic voice that sounded like the beautiful notes of a flute:
  "O my father, when exactly shall we embark on our quest to retrieve the three artifacts required to claim the Magic Sword? Truly, I am deeply eager for this journey to begin, so that I may cross paths once more with my sworn enemy, Prince Muzaifar, and settle our scores once and for all."
  Upon hearing his daughter's question, King Baddadul-Arus burst into a loud, malevolent laugh. After his amusement subsided, he looked affectionately at Uzaima and said:
  "My most beloved daughter, you must know that the only reason holding us back from seeking the three artifacts to claim the Magic Sword is that there remains one final independent city-state in this region that I intend to crush and conquer in war. The very moment I complete that conquest, we shall immediately begin our preparations for the great journey. I trust you are satisfied with this explanation?"
  Uzaima nodded her head in agreement, then spoke a second time: "O my father, to my knowledge, there is no other nation left in our entire territory that we have not already conquered in battle."
  Before Uzaima could finish her sentence, King Baddadul-Arus cut her off, saying:
  "This specific city I am about to raid does not share a border with our kingdom. I discovered this hidden empire while conducting deep mystical research within my sorcery chambers."
  The moment he finished speaking, King Baddadul-Arus pressed his two palms together and chanted a series of dark talismans. Within moments, a magical projection of a sprawling, magnificent city materialized directly over his palms. The architecture of the city was flawlessly organized, and even the garments of its citizens were beautiful to behold.
  Instantly, Uzaima found herself deeply fascinated by the city. Slowly, the mystical image shifted in color until it revealed the portrait of a remarkably handsome young man, dressed in magnificent royal attire.
  In all her years on earth, Princess Uzaima had never seen or heard of a man who possessed such breathtaking, flawless beauty. She found herself completely staring at the young prince, analyzing his features. When King Baddadul-Arus noticed his daughter's entranced state, he quickly chanted a counter-talisman and blew it onto his hand. In an instant, the projection vanished entirely, as if it had never existed.
  Uzaima slowly snapped out of her trance, letting out a heavy sigh. King Baddadul-Arus cleared his throat, looked at her, and said: "This hidden city that I am going to invade is known by the name JARUL-IMAN."
  "When shall we launch this SURPRISE INVASION against the city?" Uzaima inquired eagerly.
  Baddadul-Arus laughed heartily and replied, "Do not be anxious, my daughter! Only a few days remain before we execute this attack. Just make sure you are fully prepared before the fateful day arrives."
  Hearing this, Uzaima was filled with an immeasurable, bounding joy. King Baddadul-Arus then took her hand, and together they rose from their seats, heading down a narrow corridor that led deeper into the royal estate.
  As for the beautiful maiden and her blind father, after concluding their fierce battle against Prince Muzaifar, they continued their journey at a steady, unrelenting pace. Every time they passed through an area, the local townspeople would instantly scatter, clearing a wide path for them while staring in absolute amazement—a reaction that deeply puzzled both father and daughter.
  They pressed on continuously for three hours until they successfully crossed the outer borders of the kingdom, entering the dark, sweeping forest that lay directly to the north. They had traveled for exactly four hours and thirty seconds when...

  2. Structural Analysis & Literary Commentary

  A. The Mechanics of the "Parallel Introduction"

  The text employs a classic epic parallel structure, introduces two rival factions with identical family dynamics (an absolute monarch with a singular, hyper-competent child), and builds a symmetrical world:

  AttributeMadinatul-HusufDarul-KushurRulerKing Baddadul-Arus (Giant, Sorcerer)King Himras (Warrior, Wealthy)HeirPrincess Uzaima (Feminine Beauty, Masculine Might)Prince Muzaifar (Handsome, Ruthless Tyrant)Military Record42 Battles fought against rival; zero losses, zero wins.42 Battles fought against rival; zero losses, zero wins.

  B. The Well Scene: Subverting the "Damsel in Distress" Archetype

  The battle at the well is a masterful subversion of traditional ancient tropes. In classic folklore, the well is a site of romance, domesticity, or female vulnerability. Here, the author transforms it into a vertical battleground.
  The author uses a beautiful Hausa idiom to describe the encounter: "Gaba da gabanta aljani ya taka wuta" (When a force meets its absolute match, even a spirit steps on fire). This highlights that Prince Muzaifar's tyranny is checked not by a rival army, but by a nameless, impoverished maiden, setting up a profound theme of hidden greatness versus loud tyranny.

  C. Thematic Blueprint: The Three Artifacts

  The narrative establishes a classic high-fantasy quest framework by introducing three distinct artifacts necessary to unlock global dominion:
  ```
  [The Medallion of Rum] ──► Resurrects Wizard Sharubu ──► Yields the Laws of the Quest
  │
  [The Magic Sword of Ayyamul-Layal] ◄── Requires Talismans of ──┘ [The Hexed Book of Zammar]