I Woke Up 120 Years After The Apocalypse-Chapter 44: Rubayd’s Wrath

Rubayd and Lerius arrived in a panic at what had been reported as a burning building, only to discover, to their utter shock, nothing more than a mound of ashes. Not a single flame remained. Everything had already been extinguished.

Both men stood there, frozen, completely at a loss.

Then a distant scream tore through the silence, snapping them out of their confusion. Leyla’s voice echoed across Vulkania, shouting for anyone who could hear her:

"NEZRA IS THE SHOOTER! I REPEAT, NEZRA IS A TRAITOR!"

At those words, Rubayd reacted in less than a heartbeat. He understood immediately—Aphroa’s life was in immediate danger.

He sprinted toward the infirmary and burst through the door without hesitation.

What he found inside made his blood run cold.

Nezra stood there, blade raised, hovering just above Aphroa’s throat.

Rubayd roared with every ounce of strength he had and hurled himself at the young woman, smashing her violently against the wall.

He lifted his head a moment later—only to see Rissam’s body lying on the floor, sprawled in a pool of blood, tears still streaking his lifeless face.

Beside him lay the two Oathbearers Rubayd had left to guard the room, their throats slit.

Standing over them were two men dressed in the gear and clothing of the Sand Bandits, blades drawn, ready to face the Oathbearer pillar.

Rubayd’s rage exploded.

He launched himself at the two assassins. Despite their confidence, the outcome was never in doubt. The first was cut cleanly in half, part of his body hurled outside the infirmary.

The second attempted every trick he knew to escape the veteran’s fury, only to lose his head in a flash of steel.

Rubayd turned back, ready to finish Nezra.

She was gone.

She had used the chaos, sacrificing her two accomplices as bait to escape once again.

Rubayd screamed in fury. Betrayed and consumed by rage, he began destroying everything around him—chairs, beds, tables—nothing was spared.

Zofyan and his guards arrived moments later, alerted by Leyla’s cries. They froze as they took in the battlefield.

Zofyan stepped cautiously into the infirmary, his eyes scanning the devastation. His gaze eventually fell on Rissam’s lifeless body. The horror etched into the man’s face made Zofyan’s chest tighten.

"Rubayd... who did this...?"

"Nezra the traitor. And what appears to be Sand Bandits."

Zofyan turned to his men, ready to sound the alarm—when a bell rang out, loud and unmistakable, signaling an approaching threat.

Clark, the secondary scout, was responsible for that bell. He was the one ringing it now. The panic on his face spoke volumes. 𝕗𝐫𝚎𝗲𝘄𝐞𝕓𝐧𝕠𝘃𝕖𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝚖

"ALERT! A MASSIVE ARMY IS APPROACHING!"

Zofyan bolted out of the infirmary and sprinted to the base of the watchtower, shoving past anyone in his way, his breath ragged and his heart hammering as urgency drove every step faster than the last.

"Clark! What did you see?! Who’s attacking us?!"

"I can’t see clearly... It looks like Rushers, but there are so many of them—far too many..."

"Do you have an estimate?!"

Clark paused, raising his spyglass again, as if confirming what he already feared.

"At least five hundred, captain..."

Zofyan’s eyes widened, the shock freezing him in place for a split second. A bead of sweat rolled slowly down his temple, tracing the tension carved into his face. The distant clamor and rising chaos made it impossible to deny anymore. This was no longer just treachery. This was a full-scale, frontal assault on Vulkania.

Elliot and Leyla arrived at a run, both breathless, panic barely contained. Elliot spoke first, completely lost.

"What happened at the infirmary? And what’s going on now?!"

"We’re being attacked by Rushers, it seems... There were deaths at the infirmary. Aphroa is still alive."

"Who died?! The Rushers attacked the infirmary?!"

Zofyan hesitated. Announcing the deaths of those close to them weighed heavily on him—but there was no time left for hesitation.

"Rissam is dead... And according to Rubayd, the attackers looked more like Sand Bandits."

Leyla and Elliot recoiled in shock. Leyla covered her mouth, tears threatening to spill. Elliot clenched his fists, his own eyes glassy.

Leyla quickly pulled herself together. Her realization about Nezra suddenly made the presence of Sand Bandits painfully clear.

"It’s the Rushers and the Sand Bandits together. They’re attacking us as one... Nezra—I’ve seen her before. I was sure of it..."

Zofyan narrowed his eyes, confusion filling his expression.

"What do you mean? Where are you going with this, Leyla?"

"I saw her years ago, when I was with Barid, during talks with Zarod of the Dunes over a truce. She was at his side. She’s his right hand."

Zofyan and the surrounding guards reacted instantly, voices erupting in disbelief.

"What?! Then how did you not recognize her when she arrived?!"

"She dyed her hair blond and let it grow out... Her behavior didn’t match either. She was always acting, playing a role. And I was right to distrust that."

Elliot cut the discussion short. There was no more time for talk.

"Enough. We’re out of time. Zofyan, take your men to Plumrol and arm up. I’ll prepare the turrets."

Zofyan didn’t argue. He barked orders to his guards and rushed toward Plumrol’s forge.

Rubayd then joined them. Zulfar stood beside him, his dark stare revealing exactly how he felt.

"You won’t have to fight."

Leyla and Elliot exchanged a stunned glance.

"What do you mean, we won’t have to fight?"

"This is an Oathbearer matter. We will repel the invaders ourselves."

"No chance. Even you can’t hold against an army that large. They’ll crush you, and you know it."

Rubayd slowly shook his head, dismissing their arguments.

"This is how we ask for forgiveness. For doubting you. For questioning your intentions. We will annihilate the Rushers and their fragile alliance. That is a promise."

Rubayd and Zulfar turned and walked toward Vulkania’s gates, planting their blades firmly into the ground before them.

In Oathbearer tradition, this gesture marked a warrior’s commitment to battle. It was a sign of honor—and, in its own way, preparation for death.

They knew they would not return alive from this fight.

And they accepted it without hesitation.

For the honor of their faction.