He smiled. “Let him run. Then take his empty castle.” Zhao reached the oasis first. His soldiers drank deep. The sultan’s gift—a chest of Thunder Crash Bombs —was his.

But as he turned back, he saw smoke rising from his own fortress. Castellan’s flag flew from the bamboo tower.

“You took my home,” Zhao whispered. “I will take your future.”

At the water’s edge, he knelt and lit the fuse. The bomb did not explode—it hissed , releasing a cloud of blinding, itching powder. The sultan’s trick: the Thunder Crash Bombs were a lie. They were riot agents , not siege weapons.