Zoben Sihiri Compelet Book Abdulaziz Madakin Gini
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Author: Mansur Usman Sufi
King of Martial Arts Writers
The tournament arena was packed to absolute capacity with an immense crowd of men, women, children, and elders, alongside powerful ruling kings and highly influential billionaires from different cities across the globe. Everywhere one looked, a massive sea of human heads stretched out continuously, closely packed like a sprawling colony of ants.
Everything in the venue was meticulously arranged: the royal thrones were separated from the seats of the commoners, and a distinct section was reserved solely for the competing warriors. Every single corner of the arena was guarded by elite, battle-hardened soldiers clad in magnificent combat armor to maintain absolute security.
For two hundred and ten seconds, the crowd waited in this breathless atmosphere. Suddenly, the melodic blare of a royal horn accompanied by the heavy thud of traditional drums echoed through the air. Moments later, the king and his royal entourage entered the tournament grounds. The moment the citizens caught sight of him, they rose to their feet out of deep respect.
Once the king and his cabinet members were formally seated upon their thrones and everyone had paid their respects, the entire arena fell completely silent, as if death itself had paid a sudden visit.
The military general stood up, cleared his throat, and faced the massive gathering, proclaiming:
"On behalf of His Royal Highness the King, I welcome every attendee to this blessed gathering. As is well known, every twenty years, a new heir to the throne is chosen for this great city of Zawatul-Sharmal. The bearer of this title becomes the chief councilor to the king and the next in line to inherit the throne. According to our sacred system, every tribe must present a single representative to clash in this TOURNAMENT OF VALOR to try their fortune, provided they strictly fulfill the rules and regulations of the competition.
Now, without wasting a single moment, I shall read out the rules and structural guidelines of the tournament."
The moment the military general finished speaking, he thrust his hand into his robe pocket, pulled out a well-preserved piece of parchment, unrolled it carefully, and continued:
"The structural framework of this tournament mandates that warriors from different tribes will clash in brutal combat. The champion who emerges as the absolute star, undefeated by anyone, shall be crowned the new heir of Zawatul-Sharmal.
The rules of the competition are as follows:
Furthermore, whatever verdict the tournament judges deliver shall be final and absolute.
These are the rules and guidelines of the tournament. Now, without further delay, we shall call upon the first pair of warriors who will face each other in battle. The fighters are: Warrior Rabbaz from the Banu-Najjar tribe, and Warrior Sharifat from the Banu-Nassar tribe."
Upon hearing the names of the competitors, the entire arena erupted into wild cheering and shouting as each tribe loudly chanted praises and war cries for their representative. The two champions rose from their seats, marched firmly into the center of the combat ring, and the arena instantly fell dead silent once more, as if death itself had paid a visit.
One peculiar detail that deeply puzzled the crowd was that for over fifty years, the Banu-Nassar tribe had completely boycotted this tournament due to a chronic lack of successful or exceptional warriors. Yet, ancient history firmly established that they were the original ROYAL BLOODLINE of the city of Zawatul-Sharmal.
The moment the two warriors stepped onto the battlefield, a massive, muscular soldier drew a long, curved horn from his back, pressed it to his lips, and blew it with tremendous force. Instantly, the two combatants began circling one another, unsheathing their lethal weapons. The exact moment thirty seconds elapsed, a massive war drum was struck.
As if driven by a single mind, the two champions lunged at each other, locking into a brutal, terrifying duel filled with breathtaking skill and severe violence. Both masters fought with unparalleled endurance and a level of martial prowess that defied description. They traded vicious blows for two hundred uninterrupted seconds in a dark, grueling struggle, with neither side gaining the upper hand.
In the heat of this fierce exchange, completely out of nowhere, Warrior Rabbaz caught Warrior Sharifat entirely off guard, delivering a devastating, brutal punch squarely to her face. The sheer kinetic power of the blow launched her into the air as if she had been pulled upward by a massive mechanical winch. She plummeted backward, crashing violently to the ground. Her nose began to gush blood, and her breathing grew heavily fractured and shallow.
Having secured this massive advantage, Rabbaz burst into a malevolent, wicked laugh and began marching purposefully toward the spot where Sharifat lay completely incapacitated.
This sight filled the hearts of the Banu-Nassar people with profound sorrow and bitter frustration. Tears of deep grief began to stream down their faces as they frantically called out Sharifat's name.
Who exactly was the ruler governing this great city, and what was the historical origin of their respective tribes?
The reason behind it all was this:
Mansur Usman Sufi utilizes a classic high-fantasy trope—the succession tournament—but structures it with rigid societal stratification. The seating arrangement mirrors the political power dynamics of the city:
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[ THE ROYAL THRONE ]
[ COMPETING WARRIORS ] [ HIGH-INFLUENTIAL BILLIONAIRES ]
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[ THE COMMON CITIZENS ]