Empire Ascension: The Rise of the Fated One

Chapter 80: Holding the Ground Part-2



Chapter 80: Holding the Ground Part-2

At dawn's first light, Aditya's mercenary forces stood ready for battle. The camp, lit by the soft light of early morning, was buzzing with activity. In the forefront of all three exposed sides, 250 men of the royal guards formed a formidable line, their armor gleaming in the dim light. They stood as the first layer of defense with sharp and alert eyes.

In the western direction facing the forest, Commander Ujjwal Singh led from the front with commanding respect and confidence. Flanking him on the northern and southern fronts were seasoned captains, each commanding their assigned forces with practiced efficiency. Trenches had been dug on these sides, serving as sturdy barricades against any potential assault.

Behind the royal guards facing the forest, two musketeer battalions awaited in precise formations. On the left, Colonel Manish led his battalion with 100 soldiers per row. On the right, Colonel Deepak mirrored this formation. The royal guards, serving as spearmen, were spread between the musketeers, creating a unified front. Five rows on each side stood ready to unleash a deadly volley upon the enemy's approach.

Behind the musketeers, the crossbow battalion, under the command of Colonel Amit, awaited their orders. They were evenly distributed, their weapons at the ready, prepared to provide covering fire when needed. At the rear, Colonel Nilesh oversaw the assembly of the hwachas named Pinaka (named by aditya) and rocket artillery, ensuring that each weapon was primed and ready for action.

As the sun rose, casting long shadows on the battlefield, tension gripped Aditya's forces. Every soldier stood ready, senses heightened, anticipation thick in the air. Then, the enemy emerged from the forest, a sea of infantry with Mughal shields and armor.

But what truly chilled the blood of Aditya's men was the sight of the hundreds of captured villagers being herded to the front lines, their hands bound and mouths gagged. Aditya's heart clenched with a mixture of fury and despair as he realized the enemy's cruel tactic.

"Hold your fire. We cannot risk the lives of our citizens ," Aditya's voice rang out, cutting through the tension like a blade.

The command echoed across the camp, a stark reminder of the moral dilemma the soldiers now faced. The adrenaline-fueled anticipation gave way to a tense stillness as they awaited further orders, their resolve tested in the face of such ruthless tactics.

With the enemy soldiers slowly advancing, the urge of survivalism haunted their resolve.

Aditya felt a wave of panic grip him as the situation grew increasingly dire. The advancing enemy, a seemingly endless horde, threatened to overwhelm his forces. As someone from modern civilization, he understood the paramount importance of protecting civilians, yet allowing them to rush forward would undoubtedly expose critical vulnerabilities in their formation.

He weighed his options, considering whether deploying the Pinaka or the rocket artillery from the back line would be a viable strategy. Meanwhile, the enemy continued to emerge from the forest like an unending tide of terror, the sight of their sheer numbers felt overwhelming.

With enemy at distance of 500 meters, Colonel Manish approached with urgency. "Sir, the enemy infantry seems to outnumber our total strength. If they are allowed to come any closer, we won't be able to stop their horde."

The horrifying scene of soldiers firing on civilians replayed in his mind, reminiscent of the Jallianwala Bagh tragedy of 1919, where Indian soldiers were ordered by a British officer to fire on unarmed civilians. But here, he was the officer, and these were his people.

As an Indian, how could he take that for granted?

The enemy closed in, now within 400 meters. Deepak, losing his composure, approached Aditya, dropping to one knee and addressed him as prince instead of sir. "Your Highness, I urge you to please allow us to shoot. Our soldiers, whom you have trained yourself, will get slaughtered. It will be all for nothing. Please give the orders and let us take charge," he pleaded, his voice cracking with desperation.

The gravity of the situation struck Aditya. He realized that playing mind games in confined rooms and making hard decisions in battle were entirely different challenges. As the enemy reached within 300 meters, Royal Guard Commander Ujjwal Singh shook him from his dazed state.

"Wake up, kid. I swore fealty to you, not to chicken out at times like this. I know you are a lion's cub meant for greatness. So even if you make the wrong move, take it like a lion with no regrets."

Aditya looked at Ujjwal Singh and felt a resurgence of confidence. He touched the commander's shoulder with gratitude. "Thank you, Commander, for reminding me of my role. I wish you to save as many villagers as possible. I will give you range support and crossbow bolt cover. Can you handle it?"

Ujjwal Singh replied with pride, "Don't worry, Your Highness. I am a Royal Guard Commander for nothing. I will personally handle the rescue operation and see how many we can save."

With a nod of acceptance, Aditya ordered Colonel Amit, "Help the Royal Guard with cover fire. Change the lines."

He turned to Nilesh, his voice firm. "Fire the rockets at the back lines, then unleash the Pinaka on them."

As Nilesh moved to execute the order, Aditya called out again, "After that, load all the siege artilleries we have, including the Pinaka."

Nilesh's eyes widened at such an order. "Sir, loading all siege artillery?"

Aditya, angered by the double question, shouted, "Don't make me repeat myself. I want all siege weapons fully loaded. Am I clear?"

Nilesh saluted stomping his feet and clenching his fist to his heart. "Yes, sir."

Aditya replied, with fire in his eyes as he dug his nails into his palm while clutching his hand. "Good! Make it happen without any delay!"

Without wasting a second, Nilesh ran to carry out the command. Aditya watched as every instruction was executed with haste. This sudden burst of cool-headedness from Aditya was something never seen by anyone.

Everybody understood that the enemy had made a grave mistake by poking the cool sleeping bear, now turned into a ferocious beast. The men awaited with bated breaths as they prepared for all hell to break loose.

From the Mughal's side

Ansari, the current leader of the Mughal infantry, lounged in a makeshift command tent under the forest shadows, set up just behind the front lines. He sipped on a cup of spiced milk with cinnamon, his confidence unshaken by the night's events.

One of his subordinate officers overseeing the assault approached to report, "Your grace, phase one has begun. We might need your presence."

Sipping his cup nonchalantly, Ansari replied, "Relax, Subedar. We can win this with numbers alone. At least let me finish this first."

The Mughal forces had been steadily advancing, and the sight of the captured villagers as human shields had given him a sense of control over the battlefield. His scouts had reported no significant resistance from Aditya's forces, and he believed victory is going to be easy without even involving him.

He dreamed of the sweet reward of promotion with a complete victory by wiping out the enemy before the main cavalry could meddle in.

'Boom!'

'Boom!'...

'Boom!'

Suddenly, the serene atmosphere shattered. A series of piercing whistles cut through the air, followed by ear-splitting explosions. Ansari's relaxed demeanor turned into one of alarm as he rushed outside with his subedar. The sight that greeted him was one of utter chaos.

"What just hit the back?"

"Save me, I am dying!"

The first wave of Mysorean rockets struck with devastating precision on the back lines. Soldiers, who moments before had been leisurely advancing, were now scrambling in panic. Rockets pierced through the air, trailing sparks and smoke, before exploding amidst the tightly packed ranks. Screams filled the air as shrapnel and spearheads tore through flesh, sending bodies flying and leaving mangled corpses in their wake.

"AAARGGH! My leg! My leg!"

"Ya! Allah,(oh! god) forgive me for my sins."

Ansari's eyes widened in horror as he saw soldiers being impaled, limbs torn apart, and blood splattering the ground. The once disciplined formation was now a scene of carnage.

"Stay together! We can withstand this barrage!"

"Hold your ground! We must endure this onslaught!"

He yelled passing orders, but his voice was drowned out by the noise of explosions and the screams of the dying.

'Swoosh!'

'Swoosh!'.....

'Swoosh!'

Before he could regain his composure, the second wave of the barrage hit. Hwacha arrows rained down like a deadly hailstorm, each arrow finding its mark with merciless accuracy. The impact was immediate and devastating. Arrows sliced through the air with a deadly whistle, striking shields, armor, and flesh with horrifying force.

Soldiers, initially stunned by the ferocity of the attack, scrambled to raise their shields in a desperate bid for protection. But the onslaught was overwhelming. Arrows found their marks with deadly precision, penetrating shields and armor as if they were paper.

Some unfortunate souls were struck square in the face, arrows driving deep into their eye sockets, shattering bone and splattering brain matter in a gruesome display of carnage. Others were impaled through the neck or heart, their bodies jerking haphazardly as life faded away in a crimson tide.

"I dont want to fight, move away!"

"HA! HA! HA! HA! This is hell!"

The cluster of soldiers, once a formidable force, now resembled a disorganized mob in the throes of panic. Cries of agony and despair filled the air, blending with the sickening thud of arrows finding their marks. The chaos was palpable as soldiers stumbled over fallen comrades and scrambled for cover, their morale shattered by the relentless onslaught.

In the wake of the hwacha barrage, the battlefield was transformed into a scene of horror and devastation. The Mughal soldiers tried their best to defend themselves, but the speed and ferocity of the attack left them off-guard and disoriented.

Ansari's heart pounded as he tried to rally his men as he came out from the shadows of forest's protection.

"Form up! Shields up! Hold your positions!" he bellowed, his voice hoarse with urgency. But the devastation had already taken its toll.

Soldiers accidentally stabbed and sliced their comrades in the confusion, adding to the chaos. Through the smoke and confusion, Ansari noticed a new threat. The royal guards, led by Commander Ujjwal Singh, were moving with precision towards the prisoners.

They cut through the bindings of the villagers, using shields to create a protective barrier as they began the rescue.

"Stop them!" Ansari roared, his voice filled with desperation. "Get into formation and attack! Halt their advance!"

His orders came too late. As the Mughal front-liners tried to regroup, a volley of repeating crossbow bolts rained down on them. The repeated bolts halted the advance of front line mughal soldiers. Even those who managed to raise their shields found themselves overwhelmed by the sheer volume and speed of the bolts.

"Shield wall! Shield wall!"

"Shoot them, they are escaping. Where are our marsksmen?"

Ansari's forces tried to form a shield wall with some rangers often firing under the cover, but the damage was done. The royal guards managed to rescue most of the villagers, pulling them to safety behind their lines. The Mughals' attempt to counterattack was thwarted by the relentless crossbow fire, and their advance faltered.

Yet, it was not a complete loss. Ansari took a deep breath, forcing himself to think clearly. The sheer number of his forces remained a significant advantage, and their primary role of distraction had been achieved.

He watched as the villagers were pulled to safety, realizing that Aditya's forces must have exhausted a significant portion of their arsenal in the rescue operation.

A grim smile spread across his face as he formulated the next phase of his plan.

"Prepare for Phase Two," he commanded, his voice regaining its authority. "Look! enemy's arsenal is spent. No, need to fear. Press forward!"

He knew that the battle was far from over. His confidence returned as he envisioned the final assault. The devastation had been severe, but the Mughals infantry were not defeated yet.

Ansari was confident that there was no way they would lose to this measly army of rangers. Just by crossing the hurdle of the meagre royal guards, it was only a matter of time before they could overwhelm them.

The repeating crossbow, though deadly, would be no use against shields, and bullets took too long to load to cause any remarkable casualties. With renewed resolve, he prepared to unleash the full might of his army against the now vulnerable enemy.

But he forgot the number one rule of war: Surprises on the battlefield are bound to happen. Will his carelessness be enough for Aditya's forces to survive?

*************

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