The battle for the tower (2)

Xu Anping stood in the midst of the chaos of battle, his gaze fixed on the imposing stone tower rising before him like an impenetrable fortress. The structure was intimidating, built with thick granite blocks and crowned by battlements from which imperial defenders launched arrows and shouts of defiance. The rebels' initial assault had met with some success, breaking through the outer gate, but as they attempted to ascend the narrow, treacherous stairs leading inside the tower, they were met with fierce resistance. Each step felt like a new barrier, and what had begun as a determined advance had turned into a bloody tug-of-war, a vicious battle where every meter gained was paid for with lives.

The imperial defenders, though few in number, fought with unyielding determination. The small garrison seemed to have sworn an oath not to surrender under any circumstances. They were men hardened by years of service, many of them veterans of past military campaigns. Every movement they made was precise, every strike carefully calculated. Xu Anping and his men, though brave, found themselves fighting against the superior skill of a more disciplined enemy. The imperial shields and swords were of better quality, and their armor, though worn from previous skirmishes, still provided protection against the rebels' desperate attacks.

The confrontation had been brutal from the start. Five of the twelve imperial soldiers had fallen in the first clash at the gate, victims of the rebels' initial onslaught. However, the casualties among the attackers were much more significant. Nine rebels lay dead or wounded on the tower floor, victims of their inferior training, weaponry, and, in many cases, sheer bad luck. The men Xu led were mostly peasants and artisans, many of them forcibly recruited or driven to rebellion by hunger and desperation. They were not accustomed to disciplined tactics or the complexities of war. Despite their numbers and desire for freedom, they were facing a harsh, painful reality: war was merciless, and their lives were little more than pawns on the chessboard of a much larger conflict.

Xu Anping watched the grim scene from a short distance, his mind racing to find a solution. He felt the weight of responsibility crushing his shoulders, as if every decision he made was a move in a delicate balance between life and death. The cries of the wounded filled the air, mingling with the metallic sound of clashing swords and the muffled groans of the dying. Despite his men's bravery, Xu knew they were at a disadvantage. The deficiencies he had tried to ignore from the start of the campaign were now heartbreakingly clear. His men lacked proper training and the experience necessary to face the imperial soldiers on their own ground.

Xu's thoughts drifted to a memory from his childhood, a memory that, though distant, suddenly seemed very relevant. It was a hot day in his village, many years before the war had reached their doors. A devastating fire had swept through several homes, consuming wooden roofs and walls as if they were paper. But what had most impressed the young Xu was not the fire itself but the smoke. He had seen how the smoke, more than the flames, forced people to abandon their homes, slowly suffocating them if they didn't find a quick way out. It was an image that had remained etched in his mind, a reminder of the devastating power of fire and smoke, an invisible but lethal force.

As the images of that fiery day intertwined with the chaos of the battle before him, an idea began to take shape in his mind. A dangerous idea, but one that, if executed correctly, could change the course of the confrontation.

"Retreat!" Xu shouted with all the strength of his lungs, his voice echoing above the clamor of battle. The metallic sound of swords, the crackle of nearby flames, and the whizzing of arrows flying from the tower could not drown out his command. The surviving rebels and recruits, those still able to move, regrouped around him, their faces marked by fatigue, fear, and frustration. But in their eyes still shone a spark of determination, a will to keep going, even though the fate of their attack seemed uncertain. Liang, Xu's closest comrade, always present in critical moments, approached him with a frown, clearly concerned.

"We're stuck, Xu," Liang said, his voice grave and urgent. "We can't keep going at this pace. The men are exhausted, and the defenders are well entrenched. We need a new plan, and we need it now, before what remains of our forces falls apart."

Xu nodded slowly, breathing deeply as his thoughts fell into place. He knew Liang was right; they couldn't afford to keep facing the imperials in a frontal battle. "I have an idea," he replied, his voice low but firm. "When I was a child, in my village, there was a great fire. I saw how the smoke forced people out of their homes. We could use the same principle here. We'll gather a large amount of firewood and set it alight at the base of the tower. The smoke should force the defenders out or, at least, kill them by suffocation."

Liang stared at him, weighing the proposal. It was a risky idea, but at that moment, any option that offered a hope of victory was welcome. "It's a good plan," he finally said. "But we need to act fast before the imperials reinforce their position or reinforcements arrive. How do you plan to organize the men?"

Xu looked around, aware that time was not on their side. "We're going to divide the recruits," he quickly explained. "While one group gathers firewood, another group will surround the tower to prevent the defenders from escaping. We need to act swiftly and precisely. If enemy reinforcements arrive, all sacrifices will be in vain."

Liang nodded with determination, accepting the urgency of the situation. "I'll take care of coordinating the men who will surround the tower. How many do you need for the firewood?"

"Half of our men should be enough," Xu replied. "About twenty-five men. We need enough wood to make the fire intense enough to produce the smoke we need. We can't afford a weak fire."

Wasting no time, Liang set to work, organizing the men to carry out the assigned task. The recruits, exhausted after the long battle, began searching for logs, dry branches, and any flammable material they could find nearby. Though tired, they knew that the success of the plan depended on their effort, and they worked diligently under Xu's supervision.

Meanwhile, the group surrounding the tower carefully positioned themselves. Each of them kept their eyes fixed on the fortress walls, watching for any sign of movement. They knew that any attempt by the defenders to escape had to be contained. The air was thick with tension. Hours passed slowly, but in the hearts of Xu's men, determination continued to burn, just like the flames they would soon ignite to bring the battle to an end.