Patimura offered a faint smile. The simple praise carried enough weight to dispel any lingering doubts. Deep down, he knew this mission was more than a rescue operation. It was a chance to prove that he, a former sniper, could still be relied upon in battle, even without a rifle in hand. Tonight, he was not just a soldier; he was a shadow moving in silence, a hunter ready to change the course of the fight.
Dawn was just beginning to break, a thin mist hanging in the damp air. The shadows of trees swayed gently, brushed by the morning breeze carrying the scent of wet earth. In the dim light, a small group of soldiers moved silently, their steps blending seamlessly with the darkness. At the center of the group, Arga stood firm, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword as though it were an extension of himself. His sharp eyes swept over the faces of three soldiers before him, each of them brimming with unshakable determination.
With a single hand gesture, Arga called them closer. His voice was low but commanding, filling the silence that hung between them. "We'll attack in a diamond formation. Patimura, you'll take the lead. I'll stay in the center for command. The two of you will cover the flanks. No noise. Neutralize the guards before they can raise an alarm."
Patimura nodded firmly, without a word. In that silence, memories of his past as a sniper crept in. On the battlefield, he had learned that every second could mean the difference between life and death. His steps were light yet deliberate, his body a shadow gliding through the dark crevices. Behind him, Arga and the two other soldiers followed, their movements cautious yet resolute.
Not far from the hall, the guards seemed to be letting their guard down. Some leaned against the worn wooden walls, their weapons carelessly at their sides. A few were even asleep, their heads lolling weakly. This was the moment they had been waiting for.
Patimura moved slowly, the blade in his hand glinting faintly under the moonlight. In one swift, precise motion, the first guard collapsed silently, his final breath caught before it could become a scream. One by one, the other guards followed, leaving the path to the hall clear and unopposed.
"Clear," Patimura whispered, signaling with a hand gesture. Arga stepped forward, his sharp eyes scanning the surroundings. Inside the hall, dozens of villagers were tied up in rows, their faces etched with fear so intense it pierced the heart. But as Arga's figure emerged, a flicker of hope began to light up their eyes.
Arga approached a woman trembling in the corner. Tears streamed down her face, her body shaking uncontrollably. "Dery...? Is he hurt?" Arga asked softly, his voice calm yet firm.
The woman shook her head, her voice trembling as she spoke. "No one's badly injured, sir. But they..." She broke into sobs. "They killed the soldiers who protected us. All of them..." Her voice faltered, and she crumbled under the weight of her grief.
Arga gently patted her shoulder, his gaze steady and resolute. "I promise, you'll all be safe. Now, help the others. Patimura, lead them to the hill as planned. Once everyone is evacuated, take care of the soldiers' bodies. They deserve proper respect."
Without hesitation, Patimura began guiding the villagers who could still walk out of the hall. His movements were swift yet cautious. Amid the commotion, Arga's eyes landed on a woman crouched in a corner, her face hidden behind her long hair. Something about her seemed familiar.
Arga approached her slowly, examining her face. When the woman lifted her head, her tear-streaked face made her appear fragile. "I... I'm fine," she said, her voice trembling, though her body shook violently.
Arga recognized her. "You're that famous artist," he said, his tone softening. "I know this is hard for you, especially given your condition. I promise, this world will change. I'll create a better place for you and everyone else."
The woman's sobs broke free as she clung to Arga tightly. Her tears were not just from fear but from profound relief. "Thank you... thank you," she whispered repeatedly, as if the words were prayers in the midst of darkness.
But that hope shattered instantly when a loud cry echoed from outside. One of the guards they thought had been subdued had escaped. Within seconds, the sound of footsteps and shouted commands grew closer, cutting through the chilly night air.
"Prepare everyone!" Arga commanded urgently. He turned to Patimura, who had just returned from the front lines. "They're coming. We hold our ground at the hill until reinforcements arrive."
On the small hill they headed toward, Arga and his three soldiers, along with the surviving villagers, began constructing makeshift defenses. The first rays of sunlight began to creep over the horizon, casting a soft orange glow across the landscape. The dim sky that had been cloaked under a moon obscured by gray clouds was slowly transforming, hinting at the arrival of a new day. They worked with whatever they could find—farming tools, wooden planks, even large stones—to build temporary barricades. Despite their injuries and fear, the villagers put all their effort into the task, spurred on by the hope that the rising sun would grant them renewed strength to face the enemy.
"They have more men and better weapons. We can't hold out long without reinforcements," one soldier said, his face drenched in sweat mixed with dirt.
Arga nodded slowly, his gaze sharp yet forcedly calm. "I know," he replied tersely. "But we just need to hold on until the Kashgar forces arrive. Focus on protecting the villagers and prioritize the wounded."
The first attack came like a storm. Arrows flew from a distance, slicing through the night with a terrifying sound. Bandits from a nearby camp charged in with makeshift weapons, but their overwhelming numbers were enough to quicken anyone's pulse. Arga and his team fought with extraordinary courage, each move a struggle for survival.
The sky glowed red, as if mirroring the flames burning in the hearts of those who fought. "Protect the villagers!" Arga shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos. "Patimura, guard the rear line! We must hold until reinforcements come."