Entering the main hall, the Ninki Nanka pushed the door with their giant bodies. They crept in once at a time. Like a bird freed out of its nest, with greater and faster gravity.

"What the hell is that?" Sanmi, the translator cried out loud in amazement. His sword was drawn, waiting for a fair chance to slice its throat.

"They are weird, mythological creatures called Ninki Nanka." Banjoko turned pale as he muttered in ancient Yoruba.

"What? What does this mean? I thought they only existed in folktales... " Sanmi muttered in the dwarf's language. Hearing him say this, Banjoko smiled at him.

Escape there was none, they were prepared for battle.

"Folktales aren't just fantasy stories. They're reality-based experiences just like now. Nanka Ninki, the dragon spirit, is the guardian of the sacred river and forest. It is also an omen of death and I think they're after something here. Probably the twin eggs to gain supremacy."

"This is terrible. Is the world going to end tonight? How many are they?" His neck stretched to the direction again in fear before facing the dwarf leader.

"We want to see the giants."

"They want to see the giants." Sanmi interpreted.

"What do they want with the giants?" Yotifa raised an eyebrow.

"To collect the golden twin egg the gods blessed the earth with," Banjoko muttered while Sammi interpreted the sentence, respectively.

"Why do they need the twin egg?"

He laughs faintly. "If it gets to the Nanka Ninki's possession, they'd become more powerful creatures called dragons."

"What is a dragon..."

"It's another creature similar to it, but with wings."

"W.. Wings? Would they be able to fly?"

"Of course! Right now, we need to protect the egg so it won't get to their possession." The interpreter muttered.

"What about the boat?" Asa asked.

"To leave this cursed land. To move far away through the sea. But right now, there are none left."

"We are going to die here..." the naked man cried, still holding a cup to his cork to a cup in case he urinated again. Mucus dripped from his nostril onto his mouth and chest, but he didn't bother wiping it off. His eyes were bloodshot from too much fear. One look at him and you could tell that he was the most scared man in the room. His whole body was shaking and he couldn't feel his feet, or even stand erect.

"Die, here?!" Banjoko turned to the naked man with boiling anger. He hated how scared and shaky he was and wondered if he'd even seen a dead body.

Something very terrible was going on in the naked man's mind but Banjoko didn't care. He could have worn another cloth from the dead chiefs but he was too scared to do that. Perhaps, it was a taboo.

As short as Banjoko was, he climbed the table in agility and held his head with both hands. He looked the naked man straight in the eye hoping he would man up for once in his lifetime. Banjoko hated sluggish crybabies around.

"Who the hell is this chicken? If the gods are on our side, we will see through this day and defeat those evil creatures, whatsoever they may be!" He encouraged.
"So, stop crying like an orphaned child and fight like a man!"

"Let's fight together..." Sanmi muttered gravely.

"When do the Northerners arrive?"

"They arrive at dawn," Yotifa explained.

That's not my problem at least,

"What did he say?" Yotifa asked interestedly.

"He said that we would sail with the northerners and head home."

"Can you speak to them for us? These northerners? I need you to speak to them maybe they could probably sail us home." Yotifa suggested. His pleading eyes peered into Sammi's black eyes.

He chucked into an unusual laugh. A high, cold, cruel laugh.  "You think I'm a fool, right?! You are just as greedy and selfless as the other prince, Yotifa! You planned to sell us as goods to the Northerners. No, no, no, no... To be executed for watching our women die, that was the words you used, am I right?" he busted the hidden anger that had piled up within him in the last hour.

"Do you think we wanted these for ourselves and our people?! Just because you are the prince of your little world doesn't mean you have a say in our lives and destinies! I'd rather be killed by those creatures outside than talk to the northerners for you!" his teeth gritted to the last words in anger as if they were hard to say.

"You won't be sold. Selling slaves is the only thing that would save us all so, it's best we all play along." Asa told him.

"All our destinies lie in the hands of the gods. In either form he chooses. Whether with the dragons or the northerners. Our fate is already woven by the gods." Yotifa rambled under his breath.

The door pushed back with fire from its sides. The dwarfs still held despite the burning of the fire. The wooden door might be made with spells, but it didn't burn or break, either.

"What's going on, what should we do?" Asa asked in translator, impatient.

"Just stop talking, I need to think!" He hissed at her.

"What are you thinking about?" She queried out of frustration.

"About the folklores, the stories.." He turned to Asa and then looked back at the bunch of thick, small men by the door. Some ladies joined as well. Pushing and grunting with full force.

"What's going to happen if they enter?" Sammi asked Banjoko.

"Don't ask me what's going to happen? We all know what's going to happen!"

"What's going to happen?" Sammi asked himself, randomly.

"Oh no, death..."

"What's going to happen?" Yotifa asked the translator. A worrisome look plastered his boldface for the first time.

"I suggest you tell everyone to leave the door right now."

"What?" Asa shivered to the thought.

"We should be prepared to face the creatures," Sammi muttered again.

"Get away from that door," Yotifa commanded. "Now!"

Meanwhile, the short prisoner with a full beard, the man with a clean shave and broken brown teeth, and another prisoner were trying to unlock the treasure boxes they could find. Of course, still in prison, they unlocked their handcuffs trying to explore the room a little before leaving.

"Wow, I'd have given this to my wife if she was still alive." The man with broken teeth limped out with joy.

"Guys, please! Uncuff me! Just take the keys, put them in the handcuffs and unlock them! We would leave and go our separate ways! Don't leave me here, please!" Prince Atata begged.

"Don't worry, you're our charming prisoner now. We'd release you before leaving so chill." The man replied to him in Fon.

The Prince's eyes widened as he realized that they weren't Nigerians but indigenes of Benin.

"Please, let me out!" He begged.

The man's gaze fell upon a golden clay pot. They tried opening it but it was too tight.

"Give it to me!" The other collected it and tried to open it. But he couldn't.

"Give me!" The short man dragged the pot and fell off his hand.

"No, I won't!"

"I said give it to me!" He pushed the other on the chest, aggressively.

In the process of fighting for it, the pot fell off their hand and broke. The men coughed as black specks of dust suddenly clouded and settled on their faces. Looking at it as if a treasure was inside, they found nothing. There was nothing in it than the black powder.

In an instant, the man with broken teeth touched something thick. He deepened his hand into the box and brought it out. It was an old, sack made of straw. Opening it, he saw something tied with white thread in a red cloth. The men gathered around it, wondering what it could be.

"Ssss!" A terrifying sound like a devilish cry snarled right behind them.

The three men turned to the darkness to see what it was but there was nothing there. Their scared eyes met the blank wall and turned away. The man with broken teeth felt uncomfortable. Immediately, he grabbed the burning lamp to check clearly. To be sure.

"What the hell was that?" He asked himself, listening to the faded roar that seemed to be sounding inside his head.