Empire Ascension: The Rise of the Fated One-Chapter 205: Fall of Baloch Part-3

The Mughal army, though brutally barbaric, excelled in tactical brilliance when it came to group coordination and skillful execution on the battlefield, regardless of terrain challenges.

As most of the balochi townsfolk had escaped into the nearby hill to survive their assault, the two-thousand-strong band of troops was categorically split into 10-man groups, with each contingent led by a squad leader.

Since the hill was located on the southern side of the northwestern side of the town, along the lines of the river, Faujdar Farhan decided to keep 200 soldiers at the river bay on the northern end in case they tried to flee through a river crossing and started their pursuit of the fleeing townsfolk from the eastern direction.

Meanwhile, his comrade Amin started the pursuit of the chain of hills from the southern side. The fate of the townsfolk was doomed to fall as per their plan, as another comrade, Faujdar Tausif, would be leading his band from the western direction.

However, what they didn’t foresee was the balochis taking refuge in the caves hidden within the hills. These caves, along with the sentries posted nearby, turned the rugged terrain into a formidable defensive position, turning what they thought would be an easy pursuit into something akin to a fortress siege.

Back on the hill, the townsfolk sought refuge in the caves. The forested hill housed a cluster of natural caves, some of which had man-made tunnels dug long ago for defense during tribal wars. But this time, with so many balochi villagers, most of the able-bodied men had to stay outside, taking up arms to defend the caves. Armed with whatever weapons they had, they stood guard, determined to protect their families and ensure they all survived another day.

However, not everyone felt confident about the arrangement. Some refugees from other settlements, including a village chief named Imran, decided to leave under the cover of night. Imran approached Mehrab, the leader in charge of the defense, expressing his concerns.

"Chief, we don’t feel safe here. The caves are crowded, and if the Mughals come, we’re trapped. We’d rather take our chances now when its still dark."

Despite the tension among the onlookers, Mehrab, being a seasoned leader responded calmly by placing his hand on Imran’s shoulder. "I understand, Imran, but I can’t risk everyone who’s gathered here. You’ll still be vulnerable in the open, but may Allah guide you."

Imran gathered around 150 of his villagers and left the caves, but it turned out to be a grave mistake. At the riverbank, they were ambushed by Mughal soldiers.

"Look who we have here," a Bakshi-ranked soldier sneered as he unsheathed his sword. His contingent of 50 soldiers, who happened to spot them while patrolling the riverbank, advanced menacingly. They looked more like thugs than professional soldiers.

"Sorry, village chief, but I can’t stay here," one of the villagers muttered, retreating toward the cover of the forest. A few others followed, regret and fear in their eyes.

Imran, gripping his sword tightly, ordered, "Everyone, prepare to fight!"

He commanded his remaining group, consisting of 40 swordsmen with only shields and little armor, and 30 archers. Their families, including women and children, huddled at the back of the formation. The archers loosed their arrows, but the Mughals deflected them effortlessly with their shields.

Sensing no other option, Imran bellowed, "Charge! They are few!"

The village guards, though skilled with swords, were no match for the Mughals’ disciplined shield wall. Their attacks were blocked, and their attempts to break through proved futile. Exhausted, the villagers struggled as the Mughals suddenly opened their shields and thrust their swords forward, impaling the front line before retreating back into formation.

In the brief but brutal exchange, nearly a third of the balochis were killed. Imran narrowly avoided a fatal blow, though a sword grazed his shoulder while striking down a guard behind him. Frustrated, he struck the Mughals’ shields repeatedly but soon retreated to the back in exhaustion.

Despite the casualties, the Mughals also suffered a few losses as some of their soldiers were cut down. Both sides briefly stepped back.

Imran, realizing the dire situation, urged his brother to take the women and children and flee while they held the line. His brother agreed, and with a war cry, the balochi villagers launched a desperate attack against the Mughal shield wall. The clashing of metal and the cries of battle filled the air, but with each charge, more balochi villagers were killed or wounded.

In the midst of the conflict, Imran’s brother attempted to escape with the women and children, but a second contingent of 50 Mughal soldiers intercepted them.

With sinister grins, hacked and slashed, cutting down anyone in their path. Imran’s brother and the few remaining guards tried to defend the defenseless, but they were overwhelmed. The women and children, pleading for mercy, were mercilessly slaughtered.

Imran, witnessing the massacre of his family, dropped his sword in despair. Before he could react, a sword pierced his neck, and he collapsed alongside the bewildered village guards, who stood no chance against the advancing Mughals. Soon, everyone was wiped out.

Those who had witnessed the scene from the safety of the hill returned to Mehrab, recounting the horrific events. The news filled everyone with dread, as it was now clear that the Mughals had no intention of sparing a single survivor.

Mehrab clenched his fist around his bow, muttering in anger, "We’re on our own now."

******

Back at the slope, Faujdar Amin scanned the surroundings. The dense forest was cloaked in darkness, and his soldiers moved in small contingents, straight into the unknown. They lacked archers, relying on crossbow units scattered within each ten-man group for ranged support, but in the dark, Amin doubted how effective they would be.

He had avoided bringing torches for fear of alerting the enemy and starting a forest fire filled with dried leaves and howling wind, but that made it difficult to see ahead. Only the faint sounds of armor clanking and the occasional glimpse of movement from his own soldiers broke the eerie silence.

Despite the darkness, the discipline of his men was impeccable. They moved with precision and vigilance, navigating the gaps in the forest. Suddenly, a sharp cry pierced the quiet night as a soldier stumbled and rolled down in pain, an arrow buried in his chest.

"Everyone, watch out!" Amin shouted, trying to rally his panicked men. More arrows whistled through the air, impaling several more.

"Hazur! Enemies ahead, at the top!" a soldier from the front line yelled, having spotted archers hidden among the rocks and trees above.

"Shields up! Proceed as one!" Amin ordered, and his soldiers immediately formed a shield wall, moving slowly forward under the constant barrage of arrows. While their shields blocked most of the arrows, some still found their mark, and men fell.

Amin’s eyes darted around, desperately trying to make sense of the chaos. Through a break in the trees, he spotted figures perched in the branches, using the cover of night to rain death upon his forces. "Enemies in the trees! Marksmen, hunt them down!" he bellowed.

His crossbowmen quickly responded, taking aim from behind the shields and firing at the shadowy figures in the trees. Slowly, the snipers fell, but the archers atop the slope remained a problem.

Frustrated, Amin decided to split his forces. He directed half of them to push forward in a tight formation, their shields up, while the other half hunted down the remaining archers in the trees. Slowly but surely, they began to turn the tide.

As they moved up the slope, Amin heard the ominous rumble of logs tumbling down. "Look out!" someone shouted, but it was too late. Huge wooden logs rolled down the hill, crashing into his soldiers. Many were crushed, and others were thrown backward, scrambling to get out of the way. Though the logs were few, they caused significant damage to his forces.

A war cry erupted from the top as Balochi village guards descended in force, wielding all sorts of weapons. Amin grinned through his frustration, finally ready to confront them. "For all those who’ve fallen!" he roared and charged ahead.

A fierce battle broke out. For every three Baloch, a Mughal soldier fell, despite their elite training. Amin, growing tired of playing defense, charged ahead with reckless abandon, cutting down enemies left and right. His sword danced through the air, slicing through the Baloch like paper. His lone charge inspired his men to push forward, and together, they broke through the enemy’s front line.

As they advanced, Amin spotted a faint torchlight, signaling a cave entrance ahead. They rushed forward, only to find a scene of carnage. Bodies of both allies and foes littered the ground as if it were the remnant of a last stand.

Near the entrance of the cave, Amin’s comrade Farhan was already there, holding a girl from behind while forcibly fondling her breasts. Her upper clothes were torn as she resisted fiercely. The cave had become a den of mourning. Other soldiers were engaged in similar acts, some already raping their victims while many awaited their turn. Those deemed unsuitable had already been killed.

Chaos reigned as women screamed for mercy, but the Mughal soldiers showed none. They just wanted to have their fun before disposing them. The faint rays of dawn began to creep through the trees.

Amin approached, grinning as he saw the beautiful girl Farhan was holding by waist. She wasn’t crying; instead, anger burned in her eyes. "You’re enjoying yourself, I see. Good catch," Amin joked, reaching out to touch her.

Farhan shoved him back. "Wait. Let’s settle this.. None of this gets reported to the subedar. "

Amin chuckled, amused at his friend’s concern, even as the soldiers around them were already indulging themselves. Farhan’s gaze suddenly hardened. "What’s that?"

Amin turned and was greeted by a sight that sent chills down his spine. A dark figure, impaled with arrows, stood at the edge of the clearing, holding a torch. The man staggered but remained upright, slowly setting the dry leaves beneath his feet ablaze.

Panic gripped Amin. "We need to go! This lunatic’s setting the forest on fire! "

Farhan cursed under his breath, his eyes narrowing. "Damn, I shouldn’t have waited. Now it’s going to be waste." He felt frustrated as it was clear that there would be no time to indulge in fun despite all their struggles, and now they have to leave. He turned to other soldiers, shouting, "Kill everyone and get out of here!"

The girl Farhan held was none other than Sana. A sword pierced through her abdomen, and as it retreated, it left a gaping hole that oozed blood. She was the bride who had hidden with others in the cave, having witnessed her family butchered before her eyes. Her husband had promised to protect her while leading the archers, but he never returned.

But now, despite everything, a faint smile crossed her lips. The man setting the forest ablaze resembled her husband, who, despite being on the verge of death, ensured that the Mughals would have to kill them first rather than rape.

Although she couldn’t embrace him one last time, she was utterly grateful as she collapsed, knowing he had saved them from a fate worse than death.