Lucas_Willian

Velho do Cangaço

Velho do Cangaço is a journey through the backlands of the Northeast, where the harsh reality of life intertwines with the wisdom of a man who has seen it all. With just one eye, the old man sees more than most — he sees the soul of the backlands and carries with him the stories and scars of a life lived on the margins.

In this work, the protagonist crosses arid landscapes and forgotten cities, resolving conflicts and unraveling mysteries wherever he goes. His slow, firm steps tell a story of resistance, strength and the weight of the past, in a land that does not forgive weakness.

Get ready to enter the world of a simple but profound man, where each decision echoes the struggles of a people who, even in the face of the greatest adversities, do not bow down.

The old man of the cangaço

Dawn brought with it the distant sound of war drums, echoing across the hills, announcing the approach of the enemy army. The city, now in a state of complete alert, seemed to breathe in unison, awaiting the inevitable confrontation. The gates were closed, and the guards took their positions on the walls, watching the horizon.

The old man, together with the war council, positioned himself on the highest point of the city, from where he could see the battlefield that was forming before them. The enemy troops approached like a dark tide, with flags fluttering in the wind and weapons gleaming in the light of the rising sun. The city was surrounded, and the pressure of the moment was palpable.

"The day has finally arrived," murmured the leader of the navigators, with a serious look, while his blue eyes roamed the enemy army.

The old man remained silent for a moment, observing the formation of the opposing troops. His mind worked quickly, analyzing the possibilities and the moves they would need to make to resist the first onslaught. "Hold your positions," he said, with a calmness that contrasted with the tension in the air. "We need to observe their pattern before we act."

The leader of the blacksmiths, always ready for action, nodded and gave orders for the archers to prepare. Arrows were aligned on the bows, ready to be fired at the slightest sign of attack.

The silence that followed was almost deafening, like the calm before the storm. And then, without warning, the first signal was given. A hail of enemy arrows cut through the sky, heading for the city walls. The guards raised their shields, protecting themselves from the attack, while the archers of the guilds responded with a rain of arrows of their own.

The battlefield was transformed into a chaos of screams, steel and blood. The invaders advanced with calculated ferocity, trying to break through the city's defenses. However, the unity of the guilds proved its strength. The blacksmiths and craftsmen worked together to strengthen the barriers, while the healers rushed to tend to the wounded.

The old man, with a keen strategic vision, identified a weak point in the enemy formation and sent a unit of warriors to attack by surprise. The maneuver was successful, forcing the enemy to retreat momentarily.

But he knew that this was only the first wave. The invaders were testing the defenses, and the real challenge was yet to come. Even so, the first victory raised the morale of the defenders, who began to believe that, with the right leadership, they could indeed hold out.

"This is only the beginning," said the old man to the chronicler, who stood beside him, recording every detail. "The battle will be long, but today we have proven that we can fight. Now, it is a matter of perseverance and intelligence."

The chronicler, impressed by the way the old man remained calm under pressure, realized that the leader's true strength lay in his ability to see beyond the immediate chaos and plan clearly. He knew that this battle would not be won by brute force alone, but by wisdom and strategy.

The sun continued to rise in the sky, illuminating the battlefield where so many lives were at stake. With the first assault repelled, the defenders had a moment to breathe, but they knew that the worst was yet to come.

Chapter 32: The First Assault