The sun was leaning toward the west, dyeing the sky with the color of twilight that resembled the blood of the previous battle. In a quiet corner of the camp, Shams stood before a large cauldron filled with water, leaning her hand upon it, sweat glistening on her forehead from sheer exhaustion.
She muttered in a faint voice, as if addressing herself: "So... we have to transport all this?"
Her hand slipped without resistance, but the moment her fingers touched the surface, something defied the laws of physics.
The water did not splash, nor did her skin get wet. Instead, the green stone in her ring shone with a faint glimmer, and suddenly, the water swirled around her hand like a small vortex, then... was sucked entirely inside the setting of the ring.
The water vanished. The cauldron became empty and completely dry.
Shams froze in place, her eyes wide with astonishment, her hand still suspended in the void inside the empty cauldron.
On the other side, Firas and Aws exchanged looks of shock. Aws approached cautiously, as if fearing the ring might swallow him too.
Shams pulled her hand back slowly, closed her eyes for a moment as if sensing something inside her mind, then opened them forcefully, the glint of discovery shining in them: "This... this is impossible! The water... it's inside. I feel its weight, but it is not in my hand!"
Firas whispered, his eyes shining with the glint of tactical cunning: "Are you saying the water is stored inside the ring?"
Shams nodded quickly: "Yes! It is a void... a vast void."
Aws asked eagerly: "Then... can you bring it out?"
Shams focused her gaze on the empty cauldron. She imagined the water flowing. The ring flashed again, and the water burst from it like a small waterfall, filling the cauldron in mere seconds.
Aws shouted with enthusiasm: "Amazing! This changes everything! Transporting supplies, holy water, perhaps even transporting the wounded!"
They spent the following minutes in feverish experiments. Shams inserted medical bottles, small boxes, and even Aws's spare sword, then brought them all out.
Firas said in a voice filled with appreciation: "We now have an undetectable supply line. In wars, supply is the lifeline, and God has granted us an advantage that makes us move like ghosts without burdens."
Darkness fell completely, and the sky became a black cloak studded with distant stars.
Firas approached Aws and Shams, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper: "Get ready. Commander Salam has issued the orders. We will launch a comprehensive attack now. Shams... fill the void of your ring with all available healing bottles and holy water."
Aws was about to raise his voice to inquire, but Firas raised a finger to his mouth firmly: "Shh. This is Commander Salam's plan. In the history of our wars with them, a night battle has never occurred. They are creatures that rely on instinct and the day. We will head to their nearby camp, wipe it out, then head to the main base."
"Asad" had already passed the instructions to "Hilal". The spiritual teacher, who had been boiling like a dormant volcano since Zahra's injury, did not hesitate for a moment. His eyes shone in the darkness with a frightening glint as he gripped his sword, determined to make this night a hell for his enemies.
And in the shadows, "Zilal" moved with the army, his features unreadable, executing orders with the precision of an executioner, while his eyes watched everything.
The army moved. It was no ordinary march. Their feet were almost silent; Asad's harsh training had borne fruit. No torches were lit, no drums were beaten. They were like the cold breeze of death creeping toward the sleepers.
In the enemy's forward camp, chaos was the prevailing order. The guards of apes and swine were lazing about, thinking the battle ended with the setting of the sun.
Suddenly, the night was split by the flash of swords.
It did not take an hour. It was a sweeping, silent, and bloody attack. The camp was destroyed, its resources looted, and heads fell before bodies realized they had died. The human army settled in the destroyed enemy camp, catching their breath, while darkness veiled their next movements.
In the enemy's main base...
The situation was chaotic. The news that had just arrived was shocking. An entire army wiped out in an hour? And at night?
The enemy leaders sat, headed by the "Pig Commander", trembling. They had never known humans to be this fierce, nor this cunning. Night fighting was customarily forbidden, or so they thought. They hadn't heard the sound of the army's march, nor seen their torches. "Salam's" plan of silent movement had struck them a fatal blow. The humans would reach them soon, and they would find light in the heart of their base to fight by.
While the leaders were exchanging accusations, the temperature dropped suddenly until breaths froze.
From the dark corner of the hall, a thick black mist condensed. From it emanated the smell of sulfur and ancient death. The mist formed slowly to take a distorted human shape, with crimson red eyes radiating malicious intelligence and eternal hatred.
The entity spoke in a heavy voice that made the leaders' bones tremble, a voice that seemed to come from the bottom of a deep well:
"You fools... do not ruin things further. My master Iblis is watching you. He provided you with black magic, and sent me to guide you... and even placed a spy for you among the humans to convey their news... and yet you fail?"
The demon paused for a moment, his eyes scanning the place with contempt: "If you lose this base, my master will make you taste the torment of Hell before you die."
Sweat poured from the body of the Pig Commander, and he bowed until his nose touched the ground: "My master, the Demon... do not worry! I swear by the darkness, we will not lose. We will die for the sake of our master Iblis before their feet tread this place."
An ugly, wide, serrated smile appeared on the face of the misty demon, then he vanished as he had appeared, leaving behind the echo of cold laughter filling the hall and planting terror in the hearts of the monsters.
On the outskirts of the base, Aws, Shams, and Firas had joined the vanguard of the army. There was no time for surprise now; the confrontation would be direct.
In the front rows, "Zilal" stood beside "Asad" and "Hilal". Zilal held his dagger, a mask of seriousness and loyalty on his face, while in his heart, he was smiling at the same words the demon had just spoken.
And far away from the clashing of swords and the smell of blood...
In the quiet field hospital tent, where breaths were suspended...
The eyelids of the sleeping girl trembled. She gasped with a faint sound, and "Zahra" opened her eyes to face the ceiling of the tent, returning from the edge of death to the world of war.