The arrival of the Australian 5th Light Horse eased the pressure on the defensive line.

To avoid any incompatibility in tactics or combat style between the French and Australian troops, Tijani assigned the eastern trench line to the Australians, while he and the French forces defended the western side, facing the encircled enemy.

This wasn't because Tijani was entrusting the more dangerous area to the Australians. On the contrary, he believed that defending against the encircled enemy on the western front was riskier and more critical—a responsibility he felt the Australians couldn't handle.

"If the enemy has indeed given us a two-day deadline, it means we must launch a counterattack," Tijani said. "And our best direction of attack is the western front. We must use all available resources to force their surrender, whether through naval support or other means. For a battle like this, we certainly can't place our hopes on the Australian troops."

Tijani's disdain for the Australians was still evident, as he spoke with a tone of superiority, despite the Australians' commendable performance on the battlefield.

Early the next morning, a faint light broke across the sky. The sounds of shellfire continued sporadically, as the Allied fleet bombarded the enemy positions. Under General Winter's command, the fleet adopted a rotation system: he divided the battleships into five groups of two to three ships each, with each group bombing for roughly four hours at a time.

General Winter believed that this relentless bombardment would keep the enemy under constant pressure, preventing them from resting and possibly pushing them to the point of collapse.

At first, Charles thought this strategy might work. After all, any bombardment seemed better than none. But when Charles woke in the early hours and took a look through his binoculars toward the enemy lines, he realized it was all in vain: under cover of night, the Ottoman troops had managed to dig a trench that now lay only a few hundred meters from the French line.

Meanwhile, the battleships, to avoid friendly fire, had focused their shelling farther out, on the tip of Point A.

When Tijani emerged from the dugout and saw this, he let out a self-deprecating laugh. "They're probably laughing at us in those trenches, watching us waste our shells all night."

Charles didn't respond, packing away his binoculars as he hurried along the trench, heading to the side guarded by the Australian troops. Sure enough, the Ottoman soldiers had advanced their trench on this side as well, coming within a few hundred meters.

Tijani caught up and glanced toward the enemy line, surprised. "They're trying to shorten their charge distance!"

"It's more than that, General," Charles replied. "They're compressing our space."

Tijani let out an understanding "oh" at Charles's meaning. He regretted not sending forces out the previous night to contest the Ottomans for territory, to advance their own trench step by step and create room for more reinforcements.

But last night, his mind had been preoccupied with fortifying the defensive line to withstand the anticipated assault.

Charles hadn't considered it either. Like Tijani, he had fallen into the trap of expecting the enemy to attack much like they had the day before. But this enemy commander was sharp. He used a defensive strategy to contain the French line, preventing them from expanding.

"The good news is, the enemy probably won't attack us," Charles speculated. "At least, not for the next day or two."

"Why not?" Tijani asked, though he realized the answer as soon as he spoke.

The French line had been squeezed to its limits, and they couldn't bring in additional troops. For the Ottomans, attacking now made little sense. If they couldn't break through during the day, the French would simply replenish their troops by night, leaving nothing gained or lost. Better to wait, strengthen their forces, and then launch a decisive attack in two days when they had grenades and mortars.

"Understood." Tijani sighed and cursed under his breath. "Those damned Germans!"

He was certain this was a German plan; the Ottomans wouldn't know to fight this way.

Colonel Richard hurried over, standing respectfully beside Tijani, looking deeply apologetic. "I'm truly sorry, General. This is my fault. The sound of the shelling masked the noise of the enemy digging trenches. We didn't realize they were building right in front of us."

Tijani said nothing. He couldn't hold Richard responsible; the same thing had happened on the other side, and he hadn't noticed the enemy's movement there either.

Suddenly, Charles noticed a faint flash in the opposing trench—a glint that he recognized as the sun reflecting off a pair of binoculars.

Quickly, Charles put away his binoculars and aimed his rifle at the source of the glint. Might be a high-value target, Charles thought, suspecting an officer observing the French positions.

Peering down the sights, he found the faint outline of a black-capped head, barely visible against the dark background. Without the earlier flash, he would have missed it entirely.

Following the direction of Charles's aim, Tijani squinted, unable to see anything. Am I getting too old for this? he thought.

Just as Charles was about to pull the trigger, a gunshot rang out. The black-capped head burst with a flash of red and disappeared.

Charles immediately ducked down, pulling his head back. He hadn't taken the shot, and yet the distant officer had been killed with pinpoint accuracy from 300 meters.

Tijani hadn't realized what happened, still squatting and half-suspicious. "Was he hit?"

Charles nodded. "Yes, got him. He looked like an officer."

Charles then turned to Richard. "Who fired that shot?"

Richard, taken aback, replied, "I'll go check."

He ducked down and moved toward the origin of the shot, returning shortly with a soldier.

The soldier, a sergeant in his thirties, had an unmistakably East Asian appearance.

The sergeant calmly stood before Charles and reported in English, "Colonel, I took the shot."

Charles asked curiously, "Have you served before?"

"No, sir," the sergeant replied. "I joined the army just a month ago."

Charles regarded the sergeant with interest. Could that shot have been pure luck?

The sergeant seemed to pick up on Charles's doubt and straightened, a hint of pride in his voice. "Colonel, I've been hunting kangaroos in my homeland since I was a teenager, for over ten years now. Hitting a target like that is no challenge for me."

Kangaroo hunting? An East Asian hunter? Charles suddenly remembered a legendary sniper from World War I.

"What's your name?" Charles asked.

"Corporal Edward Shen, sir," the sergeant replied.

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