As the morning light faded and the sun began to beat down upon the valley, the thousands of arrows that had flown over the walls of Kark City left behind a jagged landscape. From his wagon, Hye looked up to see the city walls transformed; they were bristling with cedar shafts, arrows wedged into every gap and crevice between the stones. Parts of the fortifications still held, while others slumped in half-ruined heaps, and the smoke rising from the smashed roofs of houses told the story of the boulders' impact.
Hye felt the weight of it. He knew war was never kind to those caught between the greed and vengeance of men. But his mind remained on the clock. He noted the shifting shadows; the archers were tiring, the cavalry needed rest, and the sun was moving toward the moment Jeet was meant to strike the southern wall.
Just as he prepared to signal the final infantry formation, a scout's horse skidded to a halt beside him. The soldier leaned down, whispering a message that made Hye's eyes brighten.
He chuckled loudly, a rare sound in the heat of battle.
"I think such hard work—let's leave it to the young," Hye said, a smirk playing on his lips. "Tell Zhi to send Siqi and his team. Have Zhi and Jeet prepare to open the southern gate from the inside."
He leaned over the map, his finger tracing the cold, damp line of the water tunnel. "If Siqi is able to get inside, his only mission is to coordinate with Jeet to open that gate before nightfall. And remind him: once he is within the walls, he is to stay far from the North Gate. That is where Chinua's army is gathered, and that is where General Leej and his best captains will be waiting for a fight. Let them watch the North; we will take the South."
The soldier nodded, mounting his horse with renewed urgency. He raced to the highest point of the mountain ridge, reached into his robes, and pulled the string of a flare. A plume of red smoke rushed toward the clear noon sky, a silent command screaming down toward the riverbanks where Siqi waited.
Hye watched the smoke dissipate. He knew the clock was ticking. If they didn't take the gate before the sun dipped below the horizon, the siege would turn into a long, bloody grind. But if Siqi was as quiet as the water he swam in, the South Gate would fall without a single Magoli soldier having to climb a ladder.
Hye looked back at his map, specifically at the area beside the South Gate of Kark City. He marked a heavy X over the spot and muttered to himself, "If Chinua wants Behrouz City to avoid this fate, she better figure out how to close a water tunnel once it has been used."
Down on the riverbank on the south side of Kark City, the Magoli soldiers waited, as quiet as a tigress stalking her prey. As the galloping horse hooves echoed, Zhi looked up and saw the red smoke and the scout riding toward them. He knew right away that the red smoke indicated a sudden attack.
He turned to Siqi and Nachin. "No armor. Only carry your sword on your back," Zhi commanded, his voice tight.
The scout pulled his horse to a halt. "Captain Zhi, Hye says to have Siqi and his team go up the water tunnel. The water is calm, so swimming against the tide should not be a problem for the young lead. Captain Jeet is to open fire at the southern gate to distract the Paayasian soldiers while they find their way into the heart of Kark. From there, they will break the city from the inside."
The scout looked directly at Siqi. "Hye said, no matter what you do, do not head to the North Gate. Chinua's army is there, and that is where General Leej and his best captains will be. Your mission is to coordinate with Captain Jeet to open the South Gate before nightfall."
Siqi looked at Nachin, his eyes steady. "Let's go."
Zhi watched them begin to turn away. Suddenly, he rushed forward, grabbing Siqi by the arm. "Son," he said softly, the word slipping out before he could stop it. He caught himself, realizing Nachin was watching, and cleared his throat to regain his composure. He looked at both of them. "Soldiers... be careful. And remember to follow the mission."
"Thank you, General," Siqi and Nachin said in unison. The two youths rushed toward their unit and began stripping away their heavy iron armor, preparing to become as light and invisible as the water itself.
Inside the chaos of Kark City, a soldier rushed toward the half-ruined house that served as the temporary command room. He skidded to a halt in front of General Leej, his chest heaving with exhaustion and terror.
"General," the soldier gasped, his lips trembling. "A red smoke was seen at the top of Crestview Hill".
"Red smoke?" Leej jumped to his feet, the remnants of his lunch forgotten. He turned to his captains, his brow furrowed. "Does this mean there will be another attack?"
"It looks like the Magoli will not let us rest," Suxeu added, his voice grim.
Leej straightened his tunic, attempting to project an air of command. "Kulu, gather all the soldiers. Make sure no Magoli can sneak through our Northern Gate!" he commanded. He looked toward the horizon, perhaps toward the secret path he assumed was still safe. "I hope that General Jietang and his men have already made it to Ngabo. If they have, reinforcements will arrive in two days".
"Let us hope we can hold the city for two more days," Suxeu replied, though his tone lacked any real hope.
Leej looked at the soldiers sharing the table with him, trying to ignite a spark of defiance. "If the Musian could hold Hosha City against the Razaasia Army until the Hmagol Eastern General arrived to save them, we can do it too". He forced a confident smile onto his face, acting as a shield for his men.
Internally, however, the smile felt brittle. He knew the people of Kark City were not like the Musian; they were not a people willing to stand and fall as one with their stone walls. And while he stared intently at the Northern Gate, he remained completely blind to the southern water tunnel—the very mistake General Jietang had left behind.
While the ruins of the northern district remained under the heavy, suffocating watch of General Leej's elite patrols, the southern part of Kark City remained deceptively unchanged. The citizens clung to a brittle hope that their walls would hold, unaware that the sun had already set on their peace.
The silence was shattered by a single, whistling breath of wind. A lone arrow streaked from the dense woods, striking a sentry square in the chest. The impact sent the soldier thumping over the edge of the city wall, his body landing with a sickening thud directly in front of the South Gate.
Panic erupted instantly. Paayasian soldiers scrambled for their weapons, diving into shadows and behind stone battlements.
"Where did it come from!" one soldier screamed, his knuckles white as he gripped his spear.
"Arrow!" another shrieked, ducking low. "Get the archers!"
"All the archers are at the North Gate!" the reply came back, full of dawning horror.
"Then get Captain Nib!"
As a messenger scrambled toward the stairwell, he looked up and froze. Hundreds of arrow-shadows moved like lightning across the sky, arcing over the ramparts in a relentless swarm. The messenger's mouth hung open, his face turning as pale as a ghost as the strength drained from his limbs. He was staring at the end of his world.
Below, the synchronized twang of a hundred bowstrings served as a different kind of signal.
Following the rhythm of the volley, Siqi and his team dived one by one into the depths of the river. They pushed against the calm current, entering the mouth of the water tunnel while the defenders above were blinded by Jeet's distraction. One hundred young Magoli soldiers slipped into the dark, leaving the sunlight behind. Inside the tunnel, there was no light—only the cold touch of the walls and the echoing splash of water as they waded deeper into the heart of Kark City.
Above ground, Nib raced through the narrow streets toward the southern gate. Around him, the "dark cloud" had turned into a lethal rain. The arrows, having no eyes to see and no ears to hear, found their targets with indifferent cruelty—thudding into wooden rooftops, soldiers, and unsuspecting civilians alike.
As a second volley hissed through the air, Nib dived under a nearby wagon. From his cramped hiding spot, he watched a young woman carrying a bucket of laundry. She didn't even have time to scream. An arrow struck with sickening force, penetrating deep into her skull. She fell instantly, her fingers still clenched tightly around the handle of her bucket, the white linens staining red in the dirt.
Nib waited, his heart hammering against his ribs, expecting a third volley. It didn't come. Seizing the moment of silence, he scrambled to his feet and ran for the stone stairwell, his boots slipping on the blood of fallen civilians and soldiers.
When he reached the top of the rampart, he was met by a scene of pure terror. His men were cowering behind the battlements, their faces pale and eyes wide, surrounded by the bodies of those who had been too slow to find cover.
"Soldiers!" Nib's voice rang out, desperate and sharp. "Get your act together! Now is not the time to hide behind stone! Now is the time to face the enemy! Stand and guard your posts!"
One by one, the soldiers rose, shaken and trembling. Nib walked to the edge of the rampart to look out at the tree line. His blood ran cold. Emerging from the woods in a slow, disciplined line were the Magoli archers. He froze, the weight of his tactical failure crashing down on him. He had no archers of his own to return fire; all he and his men could do was hide and wait for the thunder of the battering ram to splinter their world.