Chapter 239
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Chapter 239: Night Attack on the Dragon Knight (Part 1)
After the oath ceremony ended, Mude Zariyev and Abik exchanged glances and smiled at the same time, embracing each other. Their relationship was now solidified.
In the migration team, more than a hundred people had fallen along the way—some succumbed to illness from the long journey, some were killed in attacks, and others bravely sacrificed their lives while resisting enemies. Around a thousand people, however, were fortunate enough to reach their destination.
They managed to bring along over twenty cattle, more than three hundred sheep, as well as several chickens, ducks, and geese. They had an ample supply of seeds and enough food to last until the planting season next spring.
If they built houses to withstand the cold as soon as possible, and through hunting, gathering wild vegetables, and storing forage, they could achieve initial self-sufficiency here. They also aimed to find ways to bring back more civilians suffering from the ravages of war, so they could truly take root in this fertile land.
At the same time, they needed to quickly scout the entire valley’s terrain, setting up armed checkpoints on key routes to prevent those like flies drawn to honey from swarming in.
Sure enough, Gem Valley lived up to its name. Besides some easily mined copper and iron deposits and small coal mines, there were likely some gemstones, particularly Lapis Lazuli, which Afghanistan was known for, although it was unclear where they were buried and difficult to extract.
Afghanistan is rich in minerals. Resources that have been identified include natural gas, coal, salt, chromium, iron, copper, mica, emeralds, oil, and Lapis Lazuli. However, they have never been fully developed. The country’s rich lithium reserves and potentially vast copper and iron mines are like a beggar holding a golden rice bowl, attracting wolves eyeing it with greed. This ongoing chaos has long prevented Afghanistan from achieving stability.
Women tended to the livestock while the children began digging in the creek with wooden knives, making mud blocks that they placed on cleared land to dry under the hot sun. Some young men started exploring the entire valley.
Although called a valley, it could better be described as a small basin. Even if they settled here permanently and increased their number a hundredfold, the space and resources would be enough to maintain normal consumption.
Tents were set up, not the temporary lightweight ones for easy travel, but sturdy tents made of thick, waterproof canvas and steel frames.
Lin Mo received a separate tent. Due to a language barrier, he had few people to communicate with. Apart from a few literate village chiefs, mercenary leader Abik, Patan girl Sally, and her sidekick Hark, he mostly relied on gestures or facial expressions to convey meanings to others. Occasionally, the Patan girl would come over and help translate.
However, he did not engage in much deeper conversations. For these refugees, Lin Mo was merely a passing bodyguard, so there wasn’t much to discuss.
Not everyone spoke fluent English. Most people only spoke Persian or Dari. Those who could speak English were considered worldly and educated, a rarity in Afghanistan, especially in ordinary villages.
During the evening group meal, the Patan people, young and old alike, gathered around the bonfire, singing and dancing, expressing their joys and releasing the fatigue of a day’s labor amidst laughter and cheer.
Some even skillfully turned this grand migration into an epic poem, likening Abik to a messenger of the sun and Lin Mo, clad in silver armor, to a messenger of the moon. Under the protection of the sun and moon, they had overcome countless hardships to arrive at this bountiful land, giving thanks to Allah for His blessings.
It was quite fantastical, almost turning into a mythological story.
At least Lin Mo could not understand these Patan songs; they carried an exotic flair but fell outside of his interest. Damn it! After being a soldier for so long, he was almost ready to pack up and flee.
Deep into the night, the celebrating Patan people continued to revel, showing no signs of exhaustion. After finishing dinner and packing his weapons, Lin Mo headed back to his tent.
After changing out of his armor, Lin Mo lay down on a thick blanket that covered the ground, preparing to rest.
The temperature difference between day and night was considerable here; the hot days turned crisp at night, nearly reaching freezing temperatures. Staying warm and cool was essential for survival in this environment.
The gold giant dragon remained on his wrist, a habit Lin Mo had developed. With this creature’s acute awareness of metal weapons, it could remind him of danger and activate protective measures if needed.
Not long after lying down, Lin Mo heard faint footsteps outside the tent. They were light and slow, but they couldn’t escape the Dragon Knight’s perception.
The gold coin did not sound an alarm, and Lin Mo did not sense any killing intent; the visitor likely posed no danger.
That being said, after their last loud outburst, the gold coin had grown even more taciturn; Lin Mo wondered what it was up to.
The tent flap was gently lifted, and a slender figure slipped inside.
The flap did not lock, and there were mercenaries on night watch within the camp, so it didn’t really need to be locked anyway.
Lin Mo could hear a new breath inside the tent—quick and seemingly nervous. A faint, delicate fragrance filled the air, subtle yet distinct from the persistent scent of sheep often associated with Muslims.
Assessing the intruder, Lin Mo noted their height—about five feet seven inches, weighing around one hundred pounds, with a frail build. There was no smell of smoke or alcohol, indicating they were not a combatant and lacked any military training habits.
From the spacing of their steps, the sound of their landing, and the rhythm of their movements, Lin Mo used the intentional subtle sounds from the other person to piece together unique information, making quick judgments in his mind while remaining still on his blanket.
There was no weapon, no sharp object, and they were not rummaging through his belongings. This was neither an assassin nor a thief. Who could this be?
Just as Lin Mo was puzzled, a soft rustling sound filled the air, and a warm, delicate body nestled into his embrace.
With a curvy figure and smooth, tender skin, she emanated a fragrance that sent shivers down his soul.
A woman!
Lin Mo nearly jumped off the blanket.
Even for the slow-witted Lin Mo, he quickly understood what was happening.
“Who are you?!”
The woman’s scent was familiar, but he momentarily couldn’t recall who it was. This was the first time he found himself in such a situation, so his response lagged behind just a bit.
“…”
The woman’s voice was soft and enchanting, purring like a contented kitten, stirring up masculinity in Lin Mo with every gentle sound. Her delicate little hands roamed over him but felt like they had thin calluses in a few spots.
Her movements were a bit clumsy, and she seemed increasingly anxious as she struggled to unfasten his clothing.
A strange fire ignited within Lin Mo.
“Sally?”
Though the woman remained silent, Lin Mo pried her soft arms away and asked once more. The calluses on her hands provided him with an unusual insight.
These were the hands of someone accustomed to firearms; the calluses were not from hard labor but from gripping a gun.
Only those who had frequently touched and held weapons would develop such calluses.
Click!
With a crisp sound, an LED camping light next to the blanket lit up, casting silver light throughout the tent.
“Ah!”
The woman in Lin Mo’s arms suddenly froze, lifting her long, dark hair that partially obscured her face, revealing that it was indeed Sally.
“What are you doing?”
Lin Mo frowned, wondering if she really intended to push her luck with him.
He had seen boldness before, but this was beyond anything he had encountered. As a conservative Afghan woman, her actions were utterly unfathomable.
He sat up and pushed her away from him.
Such blind groping would sooner or later lead to trouble.
Even if he were to face judgment right here, he wasn’t ready yet.
Sally blushed with embarrassment, her body stiffened, yet she couldn’t bear to let go of Lin Mo. She boldly locked her eyes onto him, exhaling softly, “‘Sir Knight’, I wish to have a child—one with your noble blood. Please grant me a child.”
While others referred to Lin Mo as “Mr.”, Sally used “Sir” as a term of respect, feeling an indescribable affection for him. Knowing she couldn’t keep a soaring eagle, she settled for preserving the “demon” lord’s bloodline as a hope for her future.
Under pressure from Mude Zariyev, the village chief, and many elders’ persuasion, Sally had been half-heartedly inclined to agree.
“Sorry, I’m not ready. I still need to return to the sky—that’s where I belong. You can’t go there.” Though he held her tenderly, Lin Mo shook his head. For a long time in his life, he would only belong to the sky; he wasn’t prepared to settle on the ground.
Lin Mo looked up at the top of the tent, as if he could see through it, staring into the endless starry night.
Once a soldier has attachments, it signifies a crack in his heart. An imperfect heart would affect his performance in battle.
“Back to the sky!”
Lin Mo’s words struck like a thunderclap in Sally’s mind—he actually planned to return to the sky?
Could it be…
Sally’s face turned pale, and tears welled up in her beautiful eyes.
In the end, she felt unworthy of him. She was just an ordinary mortal, and such foolish yearning was not meant for someone like her.
