Empire Ascension: The Rise of the Fated One-Chapter 227: Battle of Kashmir Part - 10(Re-updated)

Hari parbat fort, Southern gate, Srinagar.

Hari Parbat Fort was a single-walled fortress, comparatively smaller than other city-like forts and known only for its strategic build on high elevated terrain to keep watch over the entrance of the whole city of Srinagar.

Its thick stone walls were like a patchwork of labyrinthine corridors and ramparts that protected the royal palace which served as fort’s keep at its center.

The eastern section of the fort held the armoury, barracks, and storerooms for military supplies, while the western side contained manors and residences for civilians. To the north lay the palace garden, while the inner courtyard stretched across the southern side.

Each wall and rampart was interconnected, allowing easy access for guards to survey the defenses from all directions and quickly reach the palace in times of need. The fort’s design ensured that every corner was well-protected, with pathways that made it difficult for intruders to navigate without guidance.

However, if someone knowledgeable seized the pathways leading directly from the palace, they could effectively cut off critical sections of the wall defenses.

Faujdar Harish Pal exploited this vulnerability. He set fires at key intersecting corridors and passageways, intending to disrupt the defenses.

The flames quickly drew the attention of soldiers nearby, who rushed to contain the spread by any means necessary. The fire escalated swiftly, consuming sections of the palace and diverting reinforcements from the southern courtyard, where Harish Pal’s forces prepared to attack.

Once the fires spread, Harish Pal led his men down to the ground floor, advancing with haste toward the inner courtyard in the south.

There, the arquebusiers and crossbowmen split up, taking positions on rooftops, balconies, and behind pillars. Each found a vantage point overlooking the courtyard, ensuring they had clear sightlines to support the swordsmen moving in to seize the gate.

As Harish Pal entered the courtyard via the staircase, he scanned the area. Around 400-500 men were already stationed there, scattered in chaos, some frantically running to fetch water in a desperate attempt to contain the spreading fire.

A low-ranking commander shouted, "Enemies ahead, gather up!" after spotting Harish leading his troops.

But luck was not on their side. Most of them only had swords strapped to their waists, without glaives or shields to mount an effective defense or offense. Nevertheless, they unsheathed their weapons and tried to encircle Harish and his 150 swordsmen from all sides.

Archers stationed on watchtowers and high-elevated corridors took aim at his troops.

"Shields up!" Harish commanded, and his forces formed a tortoise-like shield wall, moving as one unit.

His swordsmen pressed forward, deflecting the rain of arrows with their shields. As the enemy archers’ positions became clear, Harish’s own ranged units engaged from cover.

"They have rangers with them!" one of the enemy archers exclaimed in disbelief, just as he was struck by a crossbow bolt from a rooftop.

"Break their formation and kill them!" a high-ranking officer ordered, sending a few glaive holders forward. But Harish’s arquebusiers, stationed in the corridors and atop staircases, fired on them with precision. The glaive bearers fell with musket shots piercing through them, unable to reach Harish’s forces.

Blades clashed, and muskets roared. Despite being surrounded, Harish’s men bravely pushed on. With shields raised to fend off attacks, they maneuvered swiftly, thrusting their swords to dispatch anyone who dared come close.

Crossbowmen positioned in nearby buildings joined in, raining bolts down on any guard attempting to flank the swordsmen. Each wave of guards that pressed forward was met by deadly volleys from above or behind cover. This staggered, relentless fire proved lethal, breaking the formation of the palace guards and allowing Harish’s men to inch ever closer to the gate.

The inner courtyard was not dependent on the intersections of palace, and a call for help escaped from the corridor.

Harish felt pressed against time.

The bastions of the walls might have been disrupted by the rest of his forces, but opening the gate was his task.

Amidst the chaos of battle, Harish bellowed, "To the gate!" and, in turtle formation, pressed forward with his swordsmen. A brutal tug-of-war unfolded as the two forces clashed, each side pushing fiercely to gain the upper hand.

Because of numbers, the Ladakhi defenders began to overwhelm Harish’s forces.

Some even managed to safely break away from shower of deadly fire and reach his marksmen at other points, slaying a few to lessen the pressure from above.

Harish’s small contingent soon found themselves encircled, with Ladakhi soldiers relentlessly hacking at their tortoise formation.

In desperation, he remembered the grenades he had been given. The risk of getting injured was high, and not to mention that lighting and throwing them in this close-quarters struggle would take precious seconds which he didn’t have. He glanced at the bunch of three grenades with a common fuse tugged to his waist and realized that this was all he could do for now.

’It’s now or never,’ he thought grimly.

"Round formation, cover me!" he ordered.

His soldiers shifted into a protective circle around him, shielding him from blade attacks. A few men fell in the process, and gaps in the formation allowed some Ladakhis to push in, though they were quickly repelled. Harish hastily lit the fuse and hurled the grenades toward the advancing Ladakhis in their clustered formation.

In the heat of battle, few noticed the grenades, and those who did thought little of them. A Ladakhi officer picked the bundle. He frowned at the smoking fuse. "What sort of stick is thi.."

"BOOM!"

The explosion tore through their ranks with a deafening roar, flinging bodies and fragments of stone in all directions. The shockwave even forced Harish’s formation back despite the soldiers’ braced positions.

The blast left a grisly scene, with shattered limbs and blood staining the ground where the Ladakhis once stood.

Though Harish’s men were prepared for the grenades’ impact, the sight was no less jarring. Nevertheless, they pressed forward, determined to reach the gate. The Ladakhi soldiers, witnessing the destruction, were struck with fear.

"They have magic weapons that can explode!"

"I’m not staying here to die. We need to retreat!"

Rumors of Harish’s "magic" weapons spread rapidly, shattering the morale of many low-ranking soldiers who began to flee. The higher-ranking soldiers, however, held their ground, committed to fighting to the last.

But it was a futile struggle; Harish’s elite forces and scattered rangers picked them off one by one as they hacked their way toward the gate.

Finally, only a few Ladakhi soldiers remained, and they too retreated, realizing they were vastly outmatched. Harish didn’t waste time pursuing them.

"Lift the gate!" he commanded as he rushed forward to unbar it himself.

As more of his subordinates joined in, a sudden rush of footsteps echoed from the left and right corridors.

Fresh Ladakhi palace guards poured into the courtyard which were sent as reinforcements from the inner corridors leading to this courtyard.

"Hold the line! Cover us!" Harish bellowed.

His swordsmen gritted their teeth and formed a defensive wall in front of the gate, fighting off the advancing Ladakhi guards who now wielded shields and glaives.

The clash of steel echoed, and blood splattered across the ground. Despite their resolve, Harish’s forces were dwindling, with each wave of attackers wearing them down.

With all his strength, Harish managed to unbar the gate, pushing it open just as the last of his men held off the guards. A few soldiers swung the gate wide, but the main army was still too distant; they’d need to hold their position until reinforcements arrived.

Harish quickly set the bar to prevent the gate from being shut again, grabbing his shield and sword to defend the entry.

"Push forward! Hold them off!" he shouted, cleaving through attackers while his shield deflected fatal blows.

His crossbowmen, now repositioned on rooftops and staircases around the gate, shifted their fire toward the palace reinforcements, though it was clear they were being overwhelmed.

Just as his troops began to falter, a horn blared from outside the fort’s walls.

Harish didn’t need to look back; he knew help had arrived. His remaining soldiers tightened their formation, shrinking their defensive line.

The palace guards paused, their attention shifting to the outside, eyes widening in horror.

Charging through the outer defenses, a cavalry contingent from the main army surged into the fort, squeezing through gaps between Harish’s men and the walls.

The cavalry smashed through the gathered infantry with a thunderous charge, splintering the Ladakhi ranks and clearing the path to the gate.

At the forefront was Rudra himself, his charge cutting through the chaos like a knife through butter, leading his men to seize control of the courtyard.

His eyes were bloodshot, and wherever he went, he left a trail of carnage in his wake. Nothing could stop him: be it arrows, glaives, or swords. The soldiers subconsciously retreated from the courtyard, as if they had spotted the grim reaper in human form.

Meanwhile, on the western section of fort, Near the barracks

Mughal faujdar Sohaib was leading the Kashmiri conscripts to join ranks with their mujahideen forces. They were called upon to assemble before fighting in the war.

"In line, you peasants, or I swear I will devour you before the fire or enemy can!"

They were not given proper equipment of any means, except for a poor wooden shield and a dull sword, before they were sent to the southern front to defend against the invading imperial army.

The Kashmiri soldiers and conscripts had no respect or desire to fight in the war. They were harassed by both the Mughals and Ladakhis, who treated them no better than slaves. Still, they gathered to fight for their side, having been told that their general, Tenzin, had joined the fight for their freedom, but now they couldn’t see him.

Suddenly, a soldier arrived and whispered something in the faujdar’s ear. Amused, he ordered, "Open the gates."

Commander Jigmet was stationed nearby. He had been demoted to this palace guard post, and his men were to be stationed at the gate. As he received the orders, he was surprised.He had long forfeited the idea that his liege would be alive.

But, his eyes widened when he spotted Tsewang arriving with the rest of his subordinates. Many of them were bruised but in better condition to fight.

Before he could respond, Faujdar Sohaib approached and welcomed him.

"Welcome, prince! Finally, you remembered that you have a fucking job to do. Where—"

Before he could complete his sentence, his head flew from his shoulders, and all Commander Jigmet could see was the shine of Tsewang’s blade.

The mujahideen nearby drew their swords while Tsewang’s subordinates also unsheathed their weapons in response to their liege.

Commander Jigmet, surprised, quivered. "What are you doing, Your Highness? Are you really rebelling against the crown?"

Tsewang entered, flicking his sword to fend off the blood droplets. He replied coldly, "Yes. I should have done this much earlier. Care to join?"

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//A/N:

Will explain the mysteries in upcoming Chapters in flow...