Chapter 238
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Chapter 238: The Sacred Oath
He wasn’t in a hurry; after all, the fighter jet was gone, and now he was safe. Even if he returned, he would probably just serve as an infantryman for a while, dealing with the tedious reports was the most painful part.
However, Lin Mo kept this thought to himself.
“Can you stay…” As she spoke, Sally unconsciously flushed, her heart racing, but she had to say it; village chief Mude Zariyev had urged her many times.
“Stay?!” Lin Mo furrowed his brow and finally shifted his gaze from his weapons to the Patan girl. “Why?”
Something felt off. This girl’s cheeks were flushed, her breathing quickened, and she seemed a bit nervous, with beads of sweat forming on her forehead.
Uh! Something was definitely not right!
Could she be sick?
She wasn’t even wearing an Islamic veil; her entire face was revealed to him. She had delicate features, long eyebrows, a well-defined nose, and narrowed phoenix eyes with slightly upward corners, full of expression. It seemed that wearing a veil for a long time had made her skin surprisingly fair and smooth. Some dark, naturally curly bangs peeked out from beneath her headscarf, playfully hanging down.
She looked like a refined Persian beauty.
Lin Mo reached out.
Sally’s breath suddenly quickened, and she slightly closed her eyes, not dodging or avoiding, adopting a posture of being gently picked.
She felt two warm fingers press against her forehead and then quickly withdraw.
What was going on? Lin Mo’s action clearly surprised Sally; it wasn’t what she had imagined, causing her face to turn even redder.
“No fever!” Lin Mo drew back his finger and tested his own forehead, speaking with some confusion, “You don’t seem sick; why is your face so red?”
“…”
Lin Mo’s remark only made Sally’s face grow hotter.
Under strict Islamic laws, women often refrain from interacting with strange men, even covering their faces and not showing themselves in public, leading to an extremely introverted character.
Even though Sally was considered an oddity among women in Mica Village and had actively taken up the AK-47 to fulfill men’s duties while patrolling with strong villagers, she was extremely bold. However, Lin Mo’s actions made her blush uncontrollably, losing her composure and leaving her feeling weak-kneed.
“You should see a doctor!”
Lin Mo frowned. It seemed that something was wrong with Sally; it was getting serious.
Sally finally understood what had happened, her heart tightening with frustration. When she had offered herself as a sacrifice to that "devil" to save the lives of the other three, even after the truth became clear—that this “devil” was not a real devil but a much more terrifying human—she hadn’t realized that subconsciously she had already regarded herself as belonging to this “Knight.”
No matter how unreasonable the demands on her were, or even if he simply took her, she wouldn’t refuse. The moment the oath was uttered, both her soul and body were no longer hers; they belonged entirely to the young man before her.
“I’m fine!” Sally suddenly stood up, covered her face, and fled in panic.
Lin Mo was left bewildered, while nearby Patan boys watching the scene stifled their laughter.
In Afghanistan, women have traditionally been considered subordinate to men, following them like a shadow, completely devoted to living modestly under their husbands, an attitude that had been deeply engraved in Afghan women for thousands of years. Only a few women with high education and considerable wealth could unilaterally dissolve their marriages.
Afghan men were fortunate, but the only regret was that such marriages were often arranged; the groom never saw the bride’s face before entering the bridal chamber, whether she looked like a pig or a fairy was left to chance. The smarter grooms would ask relatives to sneak a peek during matchmaking, but the final outcome could not be altered.
“One, two, three, pull!”
With a rumble, another giant stone was forcefully pushed aside. Dozens of men pried open a pile of rubble that had fallen onto the mountain pass due to weathering, reopening this long-sealed path.
A moist breeze blew in from afar, revealing vast land and the hazy silhouettes of distant mountains. The view included greenery, and a few bold yellow goats grazed right in front of them, chewing on tender grass leaves as if they had never seen humans and had no idea to flee.
This was precisely the paradise that village chief Mude Zariyev spoke of, a precious gift from Allah for those trapped in the throes of war—“Gem Valley.”
The men from Mica Village and other nearby villages cheered, yelled, embraced, and even broke into dance.
“We’ve finally arrived, haha! We’ve finally made it!”
Having waited long in the narrow mountain passage, Mude Zariyev’s old tears streamed down his face. He alone knew the risks taken during this migration, which had claimed many lives, and after numerous hardships, they had finally reached this place.
“Gem Valley,” a hidden paradise in the Hindu Kush Mountains, was discovered by Mude Zariyev’s ancestors during a hunting expedition when they got lost while being chased by wolves. It was remote, rarely visited, and along with its unique microclimate, this secluded land evolved into a treasure trove of fortune.
Through word of mouth, every village chief, before stepping down, would take the next village chief to visit “Gem Valley” secretly, with plans to reopen it when conditions were ripe or to escape disaster.
“Found it! Hahaha, village chief Mude Zariyev, I can’t believe it’s real! Oh, Allah, this is a miracle, a true miracle! Praise be to Allah!” mercenary leader Abik quickly removed the PKM machine gun from his back, as if afraid of desecrating this holy land, carefully knelt down and humbly kissed the earth.
Abik’s subordinates also reverently laid down their weapons, kneeling and praising the gifts from Allah.
This kind of religious ritual was entirely spontaneous; no one led it, and everyone knelt together, loudly praising everything within Gem Valley. They firmly believed that this was something only God could accomplish, endowing such a miraculous place in this life-restricting zone.
One could easily imagine that with careful cultivation and grazing, this would be a fertile land flowing with honey and milk, their home and paradise.
After a long time of chanting praises, they gradually stood up. Some ran towards the mountain pass to notify others to prepare to enter the valley, while others continued clearing the narrow mountain pass, striving to create a somewhat level road and checking for dangerously weathered rocks on either side.
Some of Abik’s men began surveying the mountain pass, looking for locations to set up lookout posts and firing points. This concealed mountain pass was indeed an excellent natural fortress, easy to defend but hard to attack.
The mercenaries quickly recognized the strategic military value of this mountain pass.
As long as they built defensive structures on the tops of the two mountains and set up a machine gun at the end of the pass, three machine guns stationed there could block the way, making it impossible for any army to enter.
Moreover, a second defensive line could be established in the valley to effectively seal off this tight mountain pass, preventing even a fly from getting through.
“Abik! Just as I promised you, this place will become your base. Our villages—Mica Village, Molla Village, Khanteer Village, and Joyla Village—will provide you with supplies. If young men willingly wish to join you, our village chiefs will never stop them.”
Village chief Mude Zariyev patted his chest as a guarantee to mercenary leader Abik, fulfilling his earlier promise. Abik’s mercenaries had shown great dedication to ensure their safe arrival here; during battles, they often stood on the front lines, shielding the elderly and women from bullets, suffering significant casualties. Villages like Mica had not only paid a great deal of money to hire them but had also promised to allow Abik’s mercenaries to settle here and provide certain support, mutually sustaining each other in a symbiotic relationship.
While a large sum of dollars was helpful, the real temptation for Abik to wholeheartedly escort them safely through dangerous terrain was this established base.
For a band of mercenaries who wandered around living off commissions, having a stable base with the support of locals meant consistent supplies and personnel. Only then could the mercenary group truly find its footing; otherwise, it would gradually shrink and become impoverished like a pack of bandits, indistinguishable from scoundrels who robbery others and fell into a vicious cycle.
“Good! This place will accept my protection. I swear by the noble and exalted Allah to guard the people and land here until death. If I break this oath, my soul and flesh shall be consumed by the devil.” Abik drew his knife, made a cut on his arm, and let the blood fall onto the land, allowing it to witness this blood oath.
Speaking of the devil, mercenary leader Abik couldn’t help glancing toward the mountain pass, where that mysterious “Knight” appeared even more terrifying than any devil.
Those who believed in Islam took oaths on Allah with the utmost seriousness; these were the most solemn and unbreakable vows, holding the highest credibility.
In response to Abik’s oath, Mude Zariyev, as the leader chosen by the villages in the migration team, also took an oath of blood before Allah.
“I represent everyone, and in the name of the noble and exalted Allah, I swear that we will provide the necessary supplies for Abik’s team. If anyone wishes to join them, I and the village chiefs will never put up obstacles. If we break this oath, my soul and flesh will be consumed by the devil."
