Acquiring A Warband

Acquiring a warband within the wasteland was relatively straightforward for those who could provide food to willing survivors. However, assembling a warband for the purpose of infiltrating the Jaden Federation and rescuing a prisoner would prove to be more challenging. Amelia understood that she needed brave and trustworthy individuals for the task at hand, individuals who wouldn't flee when faced with intense battles.

To gather men willing to join her in saving Logan, Amelia knew she had to seek assistance from Logan's scattered warbands, now dispersed throughout the Survival base. It didn't take long before she came face to face with a young man of imposing stature, engaged in conversation with a survivor.

"Hey!" Amelia called out to him from behind. The bulky man swiftly turned, uncertain whether Amelia was addressing him or the person he had been speaking with.

"Me?" the bulky man asked, puzzled by Amelia's sudden call.

"Yes, you!" Amelia replied, squinting her eyes against the sun's blinding rays.

"How can I help you?" the heavily built man inquired as he approached Amelia.

"Are you associated with Logan's warband?" Amelia questioned.

"I used to be," the man scoffed, a grin forming on his face.

"What do you mean by that?" Amelia asked, her curiosity piqued by the man's response.

"Get lost, young lady!"

Amelia seethed with anger upon being addressed as "young lady" by the man. Though tempted to unleash her fury, she restrained herself, recognizing the need for further information from him.

"Just tell me if you know any of Logan's warbands in this area, and I'll leave," Amelia stated, trying to maintain her composure.

"I'm not telling you a damn thing, young lady. You can go screw yourself," the man retorted, his words laced with disrespect.

That was the final straw. Amelia could no longer tolerate the insult and her rage began to boil. Slowly, she reached for the sword hanging behind her back, preparing to take action.

"If you dare insult me again, I could end your life right here and now, and no one would question my actions," Amelia warned, her hand firmly gripping the hilt of her sword, poised for a decisive strike.

Despite seeing Amelia's hand on her weapon, the heavily built man remained unfazed, even laughing at her, underestimating what a woman could do to him.

The man's persistent laughter only fueled Amelia's anger further, and she knew exactly what she had to do. With lightning speed, she unleashed a powerful kick aimed squarely at the man's groin.

"Squish!" A sickening sound reverberated as the heavily built man's testicles crumbled like eggs.

Clutching his injured groin, the man's eyes widened with pain, his body drenched in sweat as he let out a tortured cry, collapsing to the ground, writhing in agony.

Witnessing the scene, the other men instinctively clutched their own groins, wincing in empathy, fully aware of the excruciating pain the heavily built man was experiencing.

Amelia, asserting her dominance, and then knelt down to speak with him directly.

"The next time you address a woman, show a little more respect," Amelia stated firmly. "Now, tell me the location of one of Logan's Warbands!"

In his pain-stricken state, the heavily built man could only stammer unintelligibly, his words coming out incoherently.

"Answer me now, or I'll break your other testicle!" Amelia threatened, making a sudden move that startled not only the man but also the onlookers nearby. Another strike to his already injured body could prove fatal.

"There!" the heavily built man managed to utter, raising a shaky hand and pointing towards the crowd that had gathered to witness the confrontation.

"Do you mean he is among those people?" Amelia asked, seeking clarification.

"No-no," he stammered, adding, "Behind the crowd."

As he finished speaking, the crowd began to disperse, creating a path that revealed a young man who bore a striking resemblance to Logan, except for his unblemished face, unlike Logan's distinctive mark.

The young man, appearing to be in his late twenties, was engrossed in sharpening his sword, seemingly unaffected by the commotion surrounding him.

Amelia stood up beside the injured man, who occasionally emitted cries of agony. She confidently made her way through the parting crowd, their fear palpable as they witnessed her actions against the burly man.

The young man, focused on his sword-sharpening task, glanced up and spotted Amelia approaching. Unfazed, he continued honing his blade with unwavering concentration. Even before Amelia reached him, she could sense his confidence and bravery. As she advanced, the men she encountered along the way trembled with fear and hastily cleared a path, their actions influenced by witnessing Amelia's earlier confrontation.

"Simply having fighting skills doesn't excuse you from kicking a man in the groin without expecting consequences," the young man explained calmly, discarding his sharpening tool and brandishing his sword in Amelia's direction.

Amelia was taken aback by the sudden hostility and wondered what had prompted him to point his weapon at her. She hesitated for a moment, trying to comprehend the situation unfolding before her.

"Apologize to him immediately, or I will be forced to use this sword against you!" the man reiterated, his gaze fixed on the injured man writhing in pain on the ground.

Amelia couldn't help but smirk in response to the man's demand, now understanding the gravity of the situation. "And what if I refuse?" she challenged.

"Then you leave me no choice," the man responded resolutely, maintaining his sword's pointed stance.

Amelia shifted her gaze between the heavily built man and the gathering crowd behind her. She was not one to easily swallow her pride. However, standing before her was a formidable opponent, clearly skilled in combat, which explained his unwavering confidence in brandishing his sword.

"Apologize immediately!" he ordered once again, testing Amelia's patience. Her anger grew with each repeated command, pushing her towards the edge.

Amelia drew her lightsaber sword immediately, ready to counter the young man's attack.

The crowd grew restless as an uproar ensued, and some became fearful, knowing that if Amelia fought the young man, blood would undoubtedly be spilled.

The young man remained unperturbed by Amelia's aggressive response, even as she drew her sword. With unwavering resolve, he repeated his demand, "Go and apologize to him now!"

Amelia stood her ground, refusing to comply. "I will not," she declared defiantly.

"Then you shall face the consequences!" The young man swiftly charged towards Amelia, his speed so incredible that Amelia barely managed to evade his attack. Instead of aiming to kill her, he sought to teach her a lesson, striking her back with the blunt end of his sword.

Stumbling forward from the force of the blow, Amelia fought to regain her balance, experiencing intense pain coursing through her body. She quickly recovered and raised her sword once more, realizing that she was pitted against a skilled fighter who surpassed her in every aspect of combat.

Across a short distance, the young man stood confidently, his sword held high above his face, a smile gracing his lips. Amelia discerned his amusement and realized he was toying with her during the fight.

"Fight like a true warrior, not like a coward, evading your opponent!" Amelia's voice trailed off, her frustration evident.

"In battle, fairness holds no sway; one must utilize every skill at their disposal!" the young man interjected, finishing her sentence. With renewed determination etched on his face, he charged at Amelia once again, ready to engage her in a fierce confrontation.

Amelia anticipated the Young man's charge and swiftly evaded his attack, causing him to stagger a few steps away before regaining his composure and facing her once again.

"You still have much to learn!" The Young man quipped, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"You are the one who needs a lesson, and you were nearly defeated by a woman!" Amelia retorted with confidence.

The Young man chuckled lightly and shifted his gaze towards Amelia's shoulder. Amelia followed his gaze and felt a surge of fear when she noticed the mark left by his sword. She had believed she had successfully evaded his attack, but it was clear that the Young man was a masterful fighter.

"Now, will you continue this fight and face defeat, or will you apologize to that man?" he inquired, referring to the heavily built man who had risen from the ground and joined the onlookers, observing the intense confrontation between Amelia and the Young man.

As the Young man pointed at him, the heavily built man trembled, his body shivering, and he struggled to form coherent words, his lips quivering in fear under Amelia's intense gaze.

Amelia refused to back down or apologize, despite feeling humiliated by her opponent's superior combat skills. With a firm grip on her sword, she charged towards him, determined to not let her winning streak come to an end. The crowd erupted in anticipation, fully aware that Amelia could deliver a decisive blow if given the chance.

However, just as Amelia was about to strike, the young man swiftly lowered his sword and assumed a Kung Fu fighting stance known as "Tekondu." With both hands raised to protect his face, he skillfully grabbed Amelia's neck and held her right hand, forcing her to drop her sword, which clattered to the ground.

The sudden turn of events left the crowd in shock, their eyes fixed on Amelia as she struggled in her opponent's grasp. Despite her efforts to break free, her choking sounds and the firm hold of her opponent suggested that escape was unlikely.

The tense situation took a drastic turn as the chief swiftly arrived at the scene, accompanied by a group of guards. With their swords at the ready, the guards positioned themselves, prepared to attack Amelia's opponent. Fear was evident on their faces as they recognized the immense danger posed by the young man. They knew that engaging in combat with him would likely result in their own demise, considering how effortlessly he had defeated Amelia.

"Release her immediately!" The chief's voice boomed, his command filled with authority. The guards, though apprehensive, dared not challenge the chief's orders. They were well aware of their inability to defeat Amelia, let alone her formidable opponent.

"Are you deaf? I said, 'Let her go now!'" The chief reiterated, his tone emphasizing the urgency of his command. Reluctantly, the young man began to loosen his grip on Amelia. Collapsing to the ground, Amelia was quickly scooped up by the chief, who held her protectively.

Infuriated by the defiance of his guards, the chief sternly ordered, "Take this man to the bunker and lock him up until I decide what to do with him." The guards, torn between their instinct for self-preservation and the chief's command, approached the young man cautiously. Fearful of provoking him, they refrained from physically touching him. Showing no resistance, the young man calmly walked ahead, leading the guards towards the bunker.

Meanwhile, the chief's anger intensified as he realized his orders had been disregarded. He turned to his guards once more, still cradling the unconscious Amelia, and demanded, "Are you completely incapable of following instructions? Put this man in the bunker!" His words carried a mixture of frustration and disappointment.

The guards, fully aware of the consequences of disobedience, approached the young man with caution, gradually cornering him. Though apprehensive, they were determined to carry out the chief's command, even if it meant risking their lives. Resigned to his fate, the young man cooperated and walked ahead, the guards following closely behind, until they reached the bunker.

"Amelia, are you okay?" The chief's voice trembled with fear as Amelia kept her eyes shut, surrounded by the other survivors who had gathered around.

Gently, the Chief lifted Amelia into his arms, reminiscent of a groom carrying his bride. A couple of guards swiftly cleared a path through the crowd, while the onlookers whispered in hushed tones.

A sandstorm raged outside, obscuring visibility to a mere few feet. Even without the sun in sight, the wasteland remained oppressively hot. Using spears and cloth, the survivors quickly constructed a makeshift hut next to the underground bunker that served as their refuge. The Chief carefully laid Amelia on a bed of hay inside the hut before stepping out to face two vigilant bodyguards stationed at its entrance.

"Make sure no one enters!" The Chief issued the order, and the guards nodded in agreement.

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