In the shadows of history, beyond the reach of mortal eyes, the Immortals have waged their secret wars, bound by the sacred code: *There can be only one*. "Eternal Duel: Untold Chronicles of the Immortals" brings to light the hitherto unseen sagas o...
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Prologue The Sahara Desert, 45 BC
Silvery moonlight spilled across undulating dunes, casting long shadows that shifted like phantoms in the night. Amidst this sea of sand stood a solitary figure - a woman cloaked in white robes, her face concealed by a tattered scarf.
Aisha Al-Jabari was immortal, born over a thousand years ago in a land lush and green, before the sands slowly but inexorably claimed it as their own. For centuries she had wandered the desert, observing the rise and fall of civilizations, a sentinel guarding ancient secrets. But change was coming. She could feel it in her bones, an ominous tingle of dormant power awakening beneath these ageless sands.
Aisha crested a towering dune and paused, gazing out at the glittering expanse. There, on the horizon, the mirage shimmered. An illusion to mortal eyes, but to an Immortal, it marked an entrance to a place lost to time. The Hidden City.
A sudden gust of wind whipped at her robes and Aisha tensed, gripping the hilt of her scimitar. Another Immortal was near. She knew the subtle prickle at the base of her skull all too well. With fluid grace, she drew her blade.
"I know you're there," she called out in the language of the desert tribes. "Show yourself."
A dark figure emerged from the shadows of a nearby rocky outcropping. A man, tall and lean, garbed in black. He too held a sword at the ready.
"I am Malik Al-Mansur," the man declared, his voice rich and commanding. "I've come for the city of legends. Stand aside, or face me in combat. There can be only one."
Aisha shifted into a fighting stance, moonlight glinting off her blade. "The city is not yours to claim. I am its sworn protector. Leave now and live."
Malik smiled, a predatory flash of white teeth. "Brave words. But you face Malik the Unconquered! I have never lost a duel and I don't intend to start now."
With a fierce cry, he lunged forward, his sword a blur of motion. Steel clashed against steel as Aisha parried, and the duel began in a whirlwind of deadly strikes and countermoves...
Chapter 1 Three days earlier.
The merciless Saharan sun beat down on the caravan, the staccato rhythm of camel hooves against shifting sand providing a steady backbeat to the journey. Aisha rode at the head of the procession, her lithe figure swaying gracefully in tune with her mount's lurching gait.
To the merchants and nomads who traveled these ancient routes, she was a woman of mystery - a skilled guide with an uncanny knack for finding water and avoiding sandstorms. Some whispered she was blessed by the old gods. If only they knew the truth of her endless existence.
Aisha had seen much in her long life. Great empires risen and fallen, reduced to no more than shards and dust. Yet the desert endured, timeless and unchanging. As did she.
