Sandawili's heart stopped as her foe raised his cutlass. He was going to end her...it was clear in his eyes. He had the cold stare of a driven man. A merciless fiend with a single-mindedness that always courted death or danger. But she wasn't going to plead though. She'd rather die than surrender. Honor always, even in at face of Sulad's reaper. A breath passed before her foe murmured something, spraying spittle with every word. She wondered if he was passing her his death sentence. Whatever it was, she knew those words were spoken with passion. Then, the invader roared, face red in anger as he dropped the blade down her head. That was the exact moment Butod tackled the silver-wrought warrior down.

  The two awkwardly struggled on the sandy beach beside Sandawili. But it was clear that the rotund datu was losing the fight. He was fading. The piece of wood embedded on his back made sure of it. But he fought on, punching and holding down the invader.

  Sandawili took the moment to grab her spear. But before she could help Butod, the silver-wrought warrior dug his iron gauntlet on her friend's neck, holding him in place. The invader's other hand was a blur as it swung the blade. All it took was one twist of the wrist, followed by the sickening sound of tearing flesh. And then, it was over for Butod. Sandawili screamed, mouth foaming as her foe pushed Butod's limp body to the side. Tears streamed down her face. She approached her friend's killer but another armored enemy barred her way. He back-handed her but Sandawili was now fueled with fury. Without forethought, she pounced on him, cutting the man down. Then, she turned on the man who killed Butod, bathing in the emptiness and numbness of a being out for revenge.

  Butod was a good and fair man, Sandawili thought. A fine datu to his people. A brilliant leader. A man you could rely on. And now, he was dead. Dead like Sandawili's father and brother. Dead like the loyal warrior serfs that surrounded her.

  She rose from the ground, fury fueling every movement she made. She was about to take the fight to the silver-wrought man but others like him kept on coming from the beach. This time, the invader held what seemed to be a finer version of a 'lantaka'. But he emptied it on one of the timawas beside Sandawili. Then, he ran towards her, swing the butt of his weapon down her head.

  She didn't move to evade it. She already knew that the strike was a few inches short from her face. She didn't even flinched as she thrust her blackened spear on the man's face.

  "You'll fucking pay for this," she said as she repeatedly struck the man on the face with her spear. "You'll fucking pay with all your lives."

  The pale man's hand let his weapon drop in the sand. He soon followed it as Sandawili twisted her spear away. Another invader tried to attack her from her flank but she dodged the man's deadly strike, leaving him open. She swung her spear to the man's legs with one quick motion, letting the man fell on his back side. With a quick lounge, she closed the gap between them. He tried to parry her spear away but the blade bit his neck. His gurgled plea was ignored as Sandawili turned around to exact revenge on the man who killed her friend.

  The bearded beast was helping one of his underling to escape the vengeful warrior serfs who ganged up on them. They were clearly struggling as their numbers dwindled. One of Butod's captain intercepted him, but was quickly dealt with a quick slash of the cutlass.

  This angered Datu Sandawili even more as she readied herself to attack him. "I'm going to end you," she screamed as she rushed at her foe. But a thunderous volley struck her path and her whole world tilted swiftly followed by the darkness.

  ***

  Magalhaes threw his enemy aside and stood. He was feeling light-headed. The fatigue, the heavy armor, and the humidity didn't mix well. It was draining to even walk with his silver armor on. He spat at the fat native with a bleeding neck.

  "Serves you right fool!" he said as he took his short sword from where it landed, focusing on another wave of natives that added to their fray. The savages were too many, he thought. Magalhaes and his men had to regroup just to pick themselves up and end this before it ended them all.

  And as if on cue, a short volley from their ship fell upon the savages nearest to him. Not far from him, their musketeers backed away as flat bolts hammered their armors. They would not abandon their fellow men but the closer they were to the ship the more protected they were.

  On the opposite side Magalhaes saw a line of savages erecting a shield wall for their archers to hide behind. And those who did not have an arrow to shoot threw their spears and javelins at his crewmen. As expected, most of them lacked in martial skills but all still fought with passion and savagery. And they were slowly gaining the upper hand. As time went by, they would all snatch the victory right off Magalhaes' hand. The Captain General cursed himself for not seeing how this would play out. Worst, his men no longer had the advantage of discipline and surprise on their side. The fact that the indios were more resilient, thought the Captain General, did not help his chances.

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  He drew a heavy breath. He knew he had to decide now. And so he did. He raised his sword and signaled the retreat as more and more spears and arrows rained on him and his men. There was always a time to fight, he thought.

  "Today isn't the right time for us. Back to the boats!"

  With that, all his men retreated to their respective boats. But this made the savages grow bolder as they saw their opportunity for glory. Not weighed down with armor, they move swiftly, overcoming much skilled men with sheer speed and numbers. Those who were behind shield walls contented themselves with throwing more spears at Magalhaes' crewmen. Catching those who lagged behind, the savages dispatched them with brutality, cutting their heads and tearing them apart.

  Magalhaes tried his best to help some of his men as they panicked to safety. As he closed in on one of the boats, a soldier staggered and fell in front of him, just a few feet from the deeper waters of Opon. He turned the man over and saw that it was Delcano. He was pale and bruised. Small cuts covered his arm. And all he could do was grunt as he pushed the Captain General away.

  Delcano was in agony. At close inspection it revealed that his forearm armor was crushed. Perhaps, mangled by one of the savages who carried a stonehammer. He picked himself up, face more pale as fatigue settled in. Dark blood covered the entirety of his gauntlet. But Delcano was still determined to fight through all the pain.

  It was only then that Magalhaes realised why Delcano pushed him away. The pilot was trying to save him from one of the indios who carried an unusually large sword. The savage was tearing through the battlefield, his direction straight at them.

  "Do your worse!" the pilot said as a long-haired savage approached him, never shying away from hacking at those who crossed his path. Then, he challenged Delcano, blood-soaked blade arching above his head. The impact made the pilot groan as he tried his best to parry the strike. Another blow would have ended Delcano but instinct took over, and he rolled to his side just in time, evading the indio's fatal blow. Off-balanced by the miss, the long-haired savage stumbled and fell to his knees.

  Magalhaes decided that it was time to interfere. He struck their enemy with the pommel of his blade before he could recover and turned to help the young pilot. He hooked Delcano's arm with his and pulled him away.

  "Get up! We have to go. Or it'll be the end of us." But in doing so, Magalhaes left his side exposed. No longer than a second pass, when pain crossed his face.

  "Hijo de puta..." he screamed as lancing pain crossed his side. Then, as the Captain General turned he saw the blackened spear just below his left shoulder blade.

  The woman who held it gave him a nasty grin as she pushed it deeper, making Magalhaes stagger back in the knee high waters of Opon Matan. She turned to shout something to the long-haired savage. So, the Captain General took the chance to fight back. He swung his gauntlet at her and she fell back.

  Magalhaes quickly pushed Delcano away, giving the chronicler, Pigafetta a chance to catch the wounded pilot and bring him to safety. The Captain General told them to hasten their retreat as he stayed to hold the approaching natives. And both Delcano and Pigafetta half swam to their boat, unknowingly leaving Magalhaes behind.

  The savage woman stood slowly and wiped her bloody lips. Her face was full of distaste and rage, but a kick from the Captain General erased it all. She fell back, nose broken and right eye swollen. But through it all she still tried to rise back. Now, there was no doubt in Magalhaes' mind that this people were hardy. And war-crazed than a drunk rodelero a night before a siege. But resiliency could only take you this far, he thought. The woman with the blackened spear spat at his face as she staggered to get up.

  The Captain General shook his head. These people were all mad. Blood-lust powered them all, and if left united, they could destroy everything on their path. There was a single-mindedness in their actions that made them difficult enemies.

  The black-speared woman shrieked at him, circling around the Captain General like a she-beast out to hunt.

  "You idiot!" Magalhaes uttered the words as anger filled his whole body. "Why won't you just die? Why won't you all just die!" he screamed. Then, he swung his long sword in a backhand, surprising his foe.

  It was too fast for Sandawili to even realize her end as her head flew and bounced a few feet shy from where Lam stood.

  Magalhaes grunted as he took the piece of the blackened spear off his side. Blood quickly spurted out of his wound the moment he did so. He gritted his teeth. The damned bitch made sure it went through the gap where his armor piece met. He sighed. Things were becoming a nightmare for him. Worse. It was not over yet for the Captain General for the long-haired savage was now standing between him and his path to safety.

  Things happened quickly as their swords clanged like church bells. Lam slipped down in the knee-high water as he tried to avoid a slash from Magalhaes cutlass. Seeing another opportunity, Magalhaes swung down to cleft the prone indio's head but missed. The indio rolled in the water and stood up, but the tenacious Captain General was already closing the distance as he leaped and kneed the indio in the gut.

  Lam-ag stumbled a few feet away, battered and beaten. He raised his sword with both hands. "You'll pay for what you did!"

  Magalhaes replied by swinging both his swords toward the weakened savage...