Driven by newfound evidence, Donald and Alumak rush back to town like two pirates who discovered the trail to some buried treasure. Oh, the joy that flourished in their hearts. The excitement of it all was enough to make even the grouchiest of men smile. The researchers ran in hopes of finding someone eager to relish in their discoveries.

Coincidentally, there was one grouch in the city that was equally eager to reunite with his relative, and all it took was a simple butting of heads and a little dive in the fountain.

SPLASH!

“Ack! PBBTLH! Not again!” the soaked Scrooge complained.

“Uncle Scrooge! I’m so glad I found you!” shouted Donald.

“Argh…” Scrooge groaned, “Well, if it isn’t my wayward, yet headstrong nephew. I suppose ye’ have some news ta’ tell me.”

“Oh, you’ll never believe it, Uncle Scrooge! There’s this library with over a-bah-bah-bajillion books! And me and my buddy, Alumak—say hi—found all these clues about the sword. Ooh, and we have all these notes here, see?”

Donald excitedly handed his evidence to Uncle Scrooge while babbling on about his findings. Donald yammered on about the evidence despite his uncle’s indifference. Scrooge, however, took one look at the papers and pushed them back at him.

For the moment, Scrooge tuned out Donald’s incoherent babbles until it was his turn to speak. However, Donald just kept going on and on, which made Scrooge more than annoyed. To stop this babbling, Scrooge made mention of his own findings, prompting his nephew to shut up. It seemed to work as Donald locked eyes with Scrooge and asked fervently, “What did you find?”

“Well, what did YOU find?” Scrooge asked sharply.

“I found a path to the sword. Just like in my notes,” Donald answered with shaken feathers. He then lowered his voice to that of a church mouse and mumbled, “The sword’s hiding out in the Holy Land… in Palestine.”

“Right. And I assume your… friend… is aware of this?” Scrooge queried.

“Why, yes. Greetings, Mr. McDuck,” greeted Alumak, “What your nephew here says is true. You should commend the boy. He’s made great strides in his mission. Er, and you are the uncle with the coffers loaded with riches, are you not?” Alumak was even kind enough to give Scrooge a hefty handshake.

“Hmmm… Er, Donald. May I speak to you for a moment?” Scrooge requested.

Donald obliged and moved the conversation to a small alley. Scrooge then proceeded to grill Donald about his actions. The pair held a very discreet conversation that could only be heard as faint murmurs and muddled babble.

“Now, why the devil would ye’ think going to Palestine is a good idea?” Scrooge grilled, “Don’tcha know that place is a bloomin’ warzone?”

“I-I-I-I get what yer’ sayin’, Uncle Scrooge. But we’re on the cusp of glory, I know it!” Donald exclaimed, “It’s of vital importance that we go find it.”

“Ah! Tut-tut-tut!” Scrooge interrupted, “I ain’t done. And lemme guess… You got yer’ clues from that daft woodpecking headache of yours, correct?”

“Yeah.”

“And your Arab friend took you to the library to read a buncha books on angels, yes?”

“Swords, actually.”

“Are you aware that I got my evidence from a fortune teller?”

“No.”

“Ahh… now here’s where I have you. A fortune teller gave me a vision about the place. It was foolish. Absolutely foolish! It was as crazy as that dream ye’ told me on the plane!”

“But that’s why we should go!”

“Donald…” Scrooge sighed, “I love ye’. So I’m only going to say this once. Are you listening?”

“Speak loud and clear.”

“Good. Ahem… THERE IS. NO. MAGIC. SWORD!!!”

For all to witness, Scrooge dressed down his schizophrenic nephew. The old miser put his foot down and made his concerns known to an invested audience.

“Look at ye’ Donald!” Scrooge admonished, “Running around with queer folk, babbling on about inane superstitions! And you want us to go to war?! What kind of example are ye’ setting for the boys?!”

“Buh-buh-but…” Donald babbled.

“Ah-tut-tut! Not another word! Now, I suggest you drop the act and get yer’ bags. We are going home!”

Suddenly, someone screamed, “LOOK OUT!” as a knife shot through both Scrooge’s and Donald’s hats. The knife collided with a stone wall. Scrooge turned sharply, furiously looking for the punk responsible for cutting up his best hat.

Then suddenly, someone screamed. Suddenly, the city square went berserk. The townsfolk ran amok, screaming for their lives at the sight of the attack.

“Wha-what’s going on?!” Huey cried.

His answer then came in the form of a war cry. Multiple war cries. It was just as he feared. The MaliQuack-Tud—The Shadows of War—had arrived. And by their cry alone, they were out for blood.

The MaliQuack-Tud were just as the rumors foretold. They were a cult of organized terrorists dressed in black. Like in times of war, they treated the shadows as their prophet, using them to enact a brutal cleansing on their enemies. Under their masks were faces painted with shattered teeth, deep scars, and the most unruly beards. The MaliQuack-Tud have been organized for generations. They aim to rule the Eastern Mediterranean no matter who dares to stand in their way.

“By the fires of Zion, we will cleanse this city!” a cultist declared, “Ululululululu-lah-lululu-lah!”

“Ululululululu-lah-lululu-lah!” The war cry of the terrorists plagued the streets.

With the rise of their blades, they began their attack. Each swing meant a fallen foe and a broken innocent. It was gruesome, yet strategic. The MaliQuack-Tud believed in strength in numbers. Such a strategy allowed them to invade the city square.

The terrorists made quick work of their prey. They threw themselves at the fathers. They terrified the mothers. They slew the sons and dragged their daughters to unsightly places. And that’s not to their coup on local law enforcement, which they were quick to overpower. On top of the grisly violence, the cultists were quick to steal the spoils left by their victims.

“Take their valuables, brothers!” one soldier exclaimed, “We shall use them as offerings when our great god purges these lands! IN THE NAME OF [REDACTED]¹!”

Donald and company rushed to the nearest hiding spot before the havoc truly began. As they ran, Alumak expressed ire as he witnessed the incursion.

“Argh! The MaliQuack-Tud!” Alumak shouted, “Their existence is nothing but a curse upon this land! The zionists!”

“Th-th-th-they’re zionists?!” Donald jittered.

“They’re terrorists, that’s what they are,” Scrooge growled, “Why there be no such thing as a [REDACTED]!”

“The Junior Woodchuck handbook doesn’t say anything about fighting terrorists!” Huey panicked.

“Get it together, Huey!” Louie whispered strongly, “Why-… why it's that book! You read it so much! Maybe it’ll tell you how to use your brain for once!”

“Have you not listened to me, boys?” questioned Scrooge, “It’s like I told ye’! A terrorist is nothing more than a man with no honor. And they ain’t gonna lay a hand on you as long as Uncle Scrooge is around. Why, if I see one of ‘em, I’ll lay the smack on ‘em! Just look what they did to my hat!”

“Speaking of which… is it suddenly getting hot in here?” asked Dewey.

They did not know it, but they were being encircled in a ring of immense heat. The six men felt sweat drizzle down their foreheads. It took a quick whiff of the air for them to catch a delectable scent. Was it chicken? Or was it Me'orav Yerushalmi²? It was a matter of time before they learned the truth.

“YEEEEEEEOOOOOWWWWW!!!”

In a comical burst of fury, the Duck family burst out of what appeared to be a large cauldron. They must have shot through half the battlefield if they managed to find themselves back at the marketplace. It was lucky for them that the jagged asphalt was there to break their fall. Unfortunately, their luck dried up when the army caught up with them.

Approximately six soldiers surrounded the Duck family. Their leader was a burly man with shoulders as broad as a jock, and eyes as yellow as the dunes. He unsheathed his sword and pressed the tip on the neck of one of his victims. The soldier seemed familiar with the victim if his expression was to be believed.

“Ahh… Alum-Irad,” the soldier gritted, “You still owe me fifty shekels.”

“Greetings, Bramhil-Quack,” Alumak sneered, “Long time no see, eh?”

“Sometimes I wish otherwise,” Bramhil stressed. “No matter. MEN! Strike them down!”

The soldiers raised their swords eagerly. Sharp and ready to strike, it seemed to be the end for the Duck family. But then, sand was suddenly sprayed in Bramhil’s eyes, causing him to jerk his elbow into one of his men. His mistake cost him a free kill and made him trip over his coattail, creating a domino effect that saw him and his men fall against each other. Some of them had the unfortunate fate of falling against their swords. The quarry of men fell among themselves, crushed under the drapes of their obtuse leader. The family opened their eyes, unsure of what had happened. Then, they heard a call.

Alumak and the Ducks turn to see a gypsy peeking through some curtains. She called to them, saying, “Psst! Young family! Hurry, hurry! They will be waking up shortly!” The gypsy disappeared before they could say a word. Having no choice, they decided to follow her.

The greater city fell into peril as the violence ballooned. Alumak and the Duck family had to duck for cover as the stampede and the local armies fought for survival. The gang swerved around corners, pushed through market wagons, scurried past the police, and tip-toed past other warmongers through some convenient disguises. All this as they follow the breadcrumbs left behind by the mysterious gypsy. Eventually, the gang found themselves in an abandoned motel. As soon as they ran inside, they shut the door and closed the curtains to black out the whole room.

“What a break!” Donald exclaimed as he caught his breath. Donald was about to thank the gypsy, only to see that she had disappeared. “Huh? She’s gone?”

“Donald!” Scrooge wheezed, “When this is over, I’m taking you to a shrink!”

“We must hurry, friends,” Alumak warned, “The MaliQuack-Tud do not give up easily. It will not be long before we fall under the might of [REDACTED].”

“Now you see here, you sand monkey! There is no such thing as a [REDACTED]! And I’ve had it up ta’ here with this game of broadswords and flights of fancy!”

“Sir, calm down.”

“I’ve only been here for ONE DAY and already I’m fighting for my life for a cause I don’t even believe in. Oooh… I should’ve never agreed to me’ nephew’s proposition. Not even the thread of Glomgold being a penny richer will sate me.”

It took a moment for Scrooge to realize what he had just said.

“But wait. If I don’t do this… I’ll be seen as a coward. They’ll embarrass me in my own article. I’ll have to pay up half me’ fortune just to get the papers to retract any mention of me’ name.”

The stress became too much, and Scrooge finally cracked.

“OHHH HO-HO NOOOO! OH, I’M RUINED! BROKE! PILFERED! EMBARRASSED! BOO-HOO!”

Scrooge may have reached his breaking point, but that did not help his family’s hiding place. It took an instinctive Alumak to quiet him, doing so by tackling him with an old cloth. Scrooge berated him by shouting, “Ack! You brute! Get these dusty rags off’a me!” The others begged for Scrooge to quiet down. But then, the triplets made an abrupt observation.

“That’s no dusty rag, Unca’ Scrooge. That’s a map!” they exclaimed.

The others gather around their struggling uncle to examine the sheets. To their surprise, the rags were indeed a map. But before they could study it further, the terrorists began closing in on their location. Their worst fears would have come true if it were not for the gypsy’s return.

The gypsy ushered everyone through a trapdoor. Once inside, the gypsy covered the entrance just before the invaders broke in. Meanwhile, Donald and company rush through the underground passage as the sounds of collateral damage echo overhead. As they ran, Alumak thought it best to escape into his thoughts. He felt something touch him as he watched the tightly-knit bond between Donald and his family. Their sense of adventure impressed parts of him he thought he had buried long ago. It had been some time since he had been on a high-stakes quest. And yet, he loved every second of it. Alumak began to think that maybe there was something more he could strive for after all.

Conversely, Donald was trying his best to keep his maximum heart rate under fifty percent. His senses heightened greatly, including his migraine, which seemed to drive him further the further he progressed on this mission. At some point, Donald should learn to trust his gut less often and use his brain when it comes to danger. But at the same time, he was ever closer to winning his bet against his uncle.

Scrooge, however, grew more irate as the adrenaline flooded his system. He disapproved of this entire adventure. He grew special contempt for the man who thought it was a good idea to cover him in some dirty, tattered rags. For all he knew, he hoped the path ahead did not land him in some desert.

The path ahead did indeed land Scrooge in some desert.

“DONALD, YOU EEJIT!”

They say the amount of love a person can show can be expressed in many forms. Scrooge was kind enough to show his eldest nephew how much he loved him by swelling him with a few kicks to the rump.

“Come back here!” Scrooge declared, “When I get my hands on you, I’ll kick ye’ round 78 years for this! Maybe eighty!”

“WAK! OUCH!” Donald quacked, “I feel like I’ve been kicked around for ninety!”

1.) For legal reasons, a representative of the MaliQuack-Tud has kindly suggested that we censor the name of their prophetic mission. However, they are willing to allow the rest of their actions to be publicized.