The fighting grew worse with every passing day. The tribes no longer retreated easily – now they fought like cornered animals. Each city we took was bloodier than the last.
At the start of the next assault, I stood in the front line beside Karem. My spear was slick with dried blood, but I held it tight. The sound of the war horn echoed across the field, and we charged.
The first arrows hit us before we even reached them. One tore through my shoulder, but I didn't stop. I yanked it out, threw it aside, and kept running. The men saw me and their battle cries turned into a roar.
"Forward!" I shouted. "Don't let them escape!"
We crashed into them like a wave. Blood mixed with sand, bodies fell all around us. I felt something dark wake inside me — the more blood I saw, the calmer I became. There was no fear anymore. Only the task.
Karem fought at my side, but when he was surrounded I threw myself between him and the enemy. A club struck me hard across the back — I heard the crack — but my legs stayed steady. That blow would have broken an ordinary man. My bones were already knitting themselves back together.
"Fall back, Karem!" I yelled. "I'll hold them!"
I turned to face the enemy and charged alone. My arms were heavy and soaked in blood, but each strike brought another man down. I felt blades and spears cut into me — I pushed through the pain and kept fighting.
When the battle was finally won, I stood in the middle of the field, panting hard, my body streaming with blood. The soldiers stared at me in horror and awe.
"He can't be stopped," one young warrior whispered and dropped to one knee.
Others followed. As I wiped the blood from my face, one of the captains said loudly:
"He's like Horus himself — the god of war! You saw him — no wound could stop him!"
The words spread through the ranks faster than fire. By the next day, before our next assault, the soldiers painted falcon symbols on their bodies — in white clay, in ash, in blood.
"We fight with Horus' blessing!" they shouted.
I stood in front of them, silent. Inside, my heart pounded. This was what I wanted — for the gods to begin to take shape. But seeing their eyes on me, as if I were no longer a man but something greater, filled me with a strange heaviness.
The next battle was even worse. This time, we assaulted a fortified village. The soldiers tried to break the gate while stones and arrows rained from above. I stepped forward, grabbed a heavy log, and slammed it against the gate. A stone smashed into my shoulder, but I didn't stop. On the third strike, the gate splintered and we stormed inside.
I was everywhere in the fight. Each swing of my spear dropped another enemy. At one point I was knocked to the ground, stabbed in the stomach — I rose, pulled the knife free, and kept going. Behind me, the soldiers roared:
"Horus! Horus! Horus!"
When the battle ended, nothing in the village was left standing except the women and children we spared, as I had ordered. My men surrounded me, bloodied and exhausted, but their faces burned with pride.
"You saw him?" one of them said. "He bled like a river and still stood!"
Another soldier raised his spear high. "Amenemhet is Horus among us! He leads us to victory!"
I looked down at my hands, at the blood — theirs and mine — mixing together. There was no denying it now. My legend was growing.
That night by the fire, I sat with Karem. He watched me for a moment, then smiled.
"This is what you wanted, isn't it?" he said. "For the gods to be born. Looks like the first one will be you."
"Maybe," I answered quietly. "But Horus must be born from their faith, not from my body. I'm only showing the way."
Karem shook his head. "A man who comes back from battle with a hole through his side and stands tall the next day isn't just a man anymore. Like it or not, to them you're already a god."
I stared into the fire. He was right. And I knew that when this was all over, Horus would be born. And then history's wheel would turn the way it was meant to
The fighting grew worse with every passing day. The tribes no longer retreated so easily – now they defended themselves like cornered animals. Every city we took was bloodier than the last.
At the start of the next assault, I stood in the front line, shoulder to shoulder with Karem. My spear was slick with blood, but I gripped it firmly. The sound of the war horn carried over the field, and we charged forward.
The first arrows struck us mid-run. One pierced my shoulder, tearing flesh, but I didn't stop. I yanked it free, tossed it aside, and kept going. The men saw me and their shouts turned into a roar.
"Forward!" I yelled. "Don't let them escape!"
We crashed into them like a wave. Blood mixed with sand, bodies fell. I felt something dark stirring inside me – the more blood spilled, the calmer I became. There was no fear left. Only purpose.
Karem fought beside me, but when he found himself in trouble, I leapt between him and his attacker. A heavy club smashed into my back. I heard the crack, but my legs held. It would have broken any ordinary man – but even as I staggered, my bones were already knitting back together.
"Fall back, Karem!" I roared. "I'll hold them!"
I turned toward the enemy and attacked alone. My hands were heavy, drenched in blood, but each strike dropped another foe. I felt blades and spears pierce my flesh – the pain was distant now, drowned out by the battle.
When the fight was finally over, I stood in the middle of the field, breathing hard, blood running down my chest and arms. The men stared at me in shock and awe.
"He cannot be stopped," one young soldier said and dropped to one knee.
Others followed. As I wiped the blood from my face, one of the captains spoke aloud:
"He is like Horus, the god of war! You saw it – no wound could bring him down!"
The words spread through the ranks faster than fire. The next day, as we prepared for another attack, the soldiers painted falcon symbols on their chests and shields – with white clay, ash, even blood.
"We fight with Horus' blessing!" they cried.
I stood before them, silent. Inside, my heart pounded. This was what I had wanted – for the gods to begin taking shape. But when I saw the way they looked at me, no longer as just a man but something more… a heaviness settled in my gut.
The next battle was worse. This time we struck an actual fortified settlement. Our men battered the gates while stones and arrows rained down from above. I stepped forward, grabbed a heavy log, and slammed it against the gate. A stone struck my shoulder, biting deep, but I kept going. On the third blow, the gate gave way and we stormed inside.
The fighting was brutal. Every strike of my spear meant another body on the ground. Once I was thrown down, stabbed in the belly – but I rose, ripped the blade out, and kept going.
"HORUS! HORUS! HORUS!" the men behind me screamed, their voices a battle cry.
When the fight ended, nothing remained in the village except the women and children we had spared by my order. My men surrounded me, bloodied, exhausted, but their faces shone with pride.
"You saw him!" one soldier shouted. "His blood poured like a river, and he still stood!"
Another raised his spear. "Amenemhet is Horus among us! He leads us to victory!"
I looked down at my hands, stained with blood – theirs and mine alike. There was no denying it anymore. My legend was spreading.
That night, sitting by the fire, Karem smirked as he watched me.
"This is what you wanted, isn't it?" he said. "For the gods to be born. Well, it looks like the first one is going to be you."
"Maybe," I said slowly. "But Horus must be born of their faith, not my flesh. I am only showing them the way."
Karem shook his head. "A man who walks off the battlefield with a hole through his side and stands again the next day isn't just a man. Whether you like it or not, to them you're already a god."
I stared into the fire. I knew he was right. And I knew that when this was over, Horus would truly be born. Then the wheel of history would begin to turn the way it was meant to.
---
The following days were filled with blood and dust. Every city we took cost us men. From the original six thousand, barely five thousand remained – and that was with us avoiding pointless losses. The dead were buried in shallow graves on every battlefield, ours and theirs alike.
After the final battle, I gathered the generals and captains. On the sand map, I pointed at the place where the tribes were last gathering – at the river's mouth, in the region where a great port city would one day rise.
"This is our target," I said, my voice echoing in the command tent. "If this stronghold falls, the resistance ends. From this moment, we march with all we have. This is the last battle."
The men nodded. They were tired, but they understood.
The march north took several days. The villages we passed were abandoned – their people had fled or hidden in the swamps. When we reached the coast, I saw the fortress on the horizon. It was the largest I had seen yet, made of timber and clay but built to stop an army.
The soldiers gathered into formation. Drums set the rhythm as I walked the line.
"This is the end," I shouted. "If we break them here, there will be no more war. No more uprisings. No more night assassins. This fight will decide if you return home to your families!"
Karem stood beside me, eyes sharp. "The men are ready," he said. "I've never seen them this determined."
"Good," I replied. "At dawn we attack. And this time, I lead the first wave."
No one was surprised. They expected it. When I went forward, they followed.
That night I sat on the riverbank, staring at the fortress fires. I could already imagine walls rising here, harbors full of ships, libraries full of knowledge. This would be the heart of Egypt one day – if we took it.
---
The attack came at dawn. Shields raised, we ran under a storm of arrows. When the battering ram struck the gate, I stood at its head and slammed with the men. The gate shattered, and we poured in.
Street by street, house by house, we fought. Women hurled stones, children screamed. We pushed them back step by step.
Karem covered me, but I drove forward, cutting down foes with every stroke. By the time we reached the central shrine, I called a halt.
"Send envoys," I ordered. "If they lay down their weapons, they live."
Their answer came quickly – more arrows.
"No mercy, then," Karem growled, leading the charge for the final assault.
When it was over, the fortress burned. Bodies lay scattered in the courtyard. The soldiers stood in silence, exhausted but victorious.
"It's done," I said, though my tunic was still wet with blood.
"Not done," Karem said grimly. "Not until we make sure they never gather here again."
I nodded. "Leave five hundred men here. Build storehouses, strengthen the walls. This will be our base. From here, we control the north."
That night, as the camp settled, I climbed the smoking walls and looked down at what we had taken.
"This place," I whispered to myself, "will become a city Egypt has never seen before. And I'll make sure no new threat rises here."
It was over. The men slept, the sentries kept watch, and I knew this chapter was closed.
The legend of "Horus who leads the army" spread on its own now. Soldiers sang of our victories, scribes wrote them down on scrolls.
But I knew it wasn't truly over. Sobek and his cult were still out there, hiding, waiting.
We had the north now – and that was our advantage