Ghazi stood at the gates of Ribāṭ with a stoic expression on his youthful face. In under seventy-two hours, he had steamrolled through the Sultanate of Morocco and obliterated their pathetic army. Now all that was left was to claim their capital for himself, and force the Sultan to surrender.
It had been many years since Hasan died in these very lands, and despite avenging his uncle, Ghazi did not feel an ounce of pride. The conquest of his neighbors was a feat so easily accomplished that he was not even needed on the battlefield to begin with.
The young man was not entirely sure what he was expecting his first war to be like, but certainly he expected something more than what had occurred thus far. Even though he was at a loss on how he should feel in this exact moment, Ghazi still conducted his duty, and that was to surround the enemy capital in a bid to force his enemies to surrender.
