Rewari kingdom, Khera vilge , Night of 8th march 1557

  Bheem's POV

  In the shadows of the vilge alleys, Bheem sat atop his horse, his 50 cavalrymen waiting in tense silence. The rhythmic pounding of his heart matched the distant shouts of battle. From their concealed position, they had a clear view of the unfolding chaos. The enemy cavalry cshed with the shield wall, their impact minimal thanks to the relentless hail of arrows from Aditya's crossbowmen.

  Bheem watched intently as the enemy commander ordered his troops to surround the hollow square formation. Everything was unfolding as Aditya had predicted.

  The moment had arrived. Bheem raised his arm in a silent command. Fifty riders surged from the shadows of the vilge houses, their horses charging forward like a wave of soaring tide. The enemy cavalry, caught off guard, was unprepared for this new threat.

  "What is this madness? They're hitting us from the sides! Form ranks quickly!"

  "We're being surrounded! Watch your back!"

  The appearance of Bheem's forces sent confusion through the enemy ranks. Their formations shattered as they turned to face the oncoming charge, the pincer attack catching them off guard.

  At the forefront, Bheem felt the wind whip past his face as his mount thundered forward. His nce, poised for impact, cut through the enemy cavalry, lightly armored and disarrayed, like a scythe through wheat. The collision was a cataclysmic eruption of iron and flesh. Horses reared and fell, men were unhorsed and trampled. Bheem's nce found its mark repeatedly.

  Swords and nces sliced through the light cavalry with lethal efficiency. The once-formidable enemy soldiers fell like chickens before a butcher's bde.

  Despite the chaos, Bheem remained calm. His shield absorbed blows that might have pierced him, and his armor protected him from the worst of the enemy's strikes. With precision, he blocked and parried, stabbing through gaps in the enemy ranks. The cavalry, now trapped and vulnerable, was no match for Bheem's well-equipped troops.

  "We're being shredded! The crossbowmen are picking us off!"

  "There's no escape! We're hit from both sides. Where is the commander?!"

  As the light cavalry struggled to react, the crossbowmen's arrows continued to inflict heavy casualties from behind. The enemy had nowhere to turn, their ranks decimated yer by yer, caught in a relentless sandwich of melee and ranged attacks.

  Varun Khatri, the enemy commander, watched in horror as his cavalry was torn apart. Desperation set in, but he knew his forces still had strength in numbers. With grim determination, he issued his orders.

  "We still have numbers on our side. Split and regroup."

  "Right fnk halt their charge!"

  "For the left fnk, turn to the sides! Follow me. We will outfnk their infantry!"

  As his commands echoed across the battlefield, Varun's troops began to realign. Those heading right prepared to engage the remaining enemy cavalry, while others, led by Varun himself, shifted direction to maneuver and fnk the infantry.

  Amidst the chaos, Meenakshi, riding beside Bheem, bellowed, "You take the right; I'll handle the left!"

  Bheem nodded and split his forces accordingly. Meenakshi led her section in pursuit of the fleeing light cavalry, determined to prevent their escape and disrupt their attempt to fnk the infantry.

  Meanwhile, the enemy's attempts to regroup and confront Bheem's cavalry proved futile. The well-coordinated and heavily armored cavalry, with superior training, pressed their advantage relentlessly, tightening their grip around their light-armored adversaries. The hail of arrows added further pain to their ass.

  The scene was a chaotic blend of dust, iron, and cries as Bheem and his men pressed their assault. For now, the tide of battle seemed to even out, though the enemy cavalry still had strength in their ranks. The battle was far from over, but the advantage lightly tilted in favor of Aditya and his forces.

  Ranjit Rao's POV

  Commander Ranjit Rao watched with a mixture of contempt and curiosity as Aditya's infantry of merry 150 men emerged from the western gate. The prince's maneuver was a final, dignified stance, a brave but ultimately futile gesture in Ranjit's eyes. He commended Aditya's bravery silently but knew this was merely a st-ditch effort.His gaze swept the vilge, searching for any sign of hidden reinforcements. There, in the heart of the enemy lines, y the key to victory or defeat. He sent Varun and his cavalry to draw out any potential ambush, a sacrificial mb to lure the enemy into the open. With his main force, he would strike from the north, encircling Aditya's forces and crushing them between two relentless tides.

  From his vantage point, Ranjit watched with amusement as Aditya's reinforcements arrived like wolves among sheep. The battle below was a spectacle of chaos and carnage. Aditya's cavalry, a mere fifty strong, had unleashed a storm of fury upon the enemy, cutting through their ranks like a scythe through wheat. It was a brief, shining moment of triumph, a flicker of hope that would soon be extinguished.

  Ranjit felt confident. This was all Aditya could muster. He issued the command for his cavalry of 200 strong to advance, prepared to crush the remaining resistance. As his forces picked up speed and reached within 150 meters, a fire arrow shot up into the sky caught his attention. A chill of foreboding gripped his heart, but the momentum of the charge made it hard to decipher the imminent threat.

  Suddenly, movement from his left side drew his gaze. Forty musketeers emerged from the dark alleys of the vilge, forming a line formation of 2 columns. Ranjit's eyes widened in recognition and fear. He had heard tales of their devastating impact and cursed his luck of letting it out of count.

  'Bang!'

  Before he could alter the course of his charge, the musketeers fired their volley. The thunderous report of the muskets filled the air, and the result was immediate and catastrophic. The volley struck the exposed fnk of Ranjit's cavalry. Horses reared, their riders thrown into disarray as the fire from the muskets staggered their advance. Panic and confusion spread through the ranks like wildfire.

  "Enemy at the left! Beware!"

  "Move! Move! Dont stand in their sight!"

  The tightly packed formation struggled to maintain order. Horses and riders crashed to the ground, the once formidable cavalry now in a chaotic scramble for survival. The orderly advance turned into a scene of chaos, showcasing the power of new weapons.

  Ranjit had faced many battles, seen countless men fall, but never had he witnessed such carnage inflicted by so few. In that moment, he understood the true meaning of fear.

  The tide of battle was shifting, and the prince's seemingly desperate st stand had turned into a serious threat to his well-id pns.

  Climax

  As the battle raged on, some stray cavalry units, sensing the growing threat, turned their focus towards the musketeers. Yet the vilge's darkness concealed more than just shadows. From the high branches and hidden behind the houses, the remaining ten musketeers took aim and sniped at the approaching cavalry.

  On the ground, the musketeers in their line formation unleashed another volley. Each shot caused devastating impact, and those who survived the initial barrage were swiftly impaled by bayonets thrust from the front lines.

  "Where are they firing from?"

  "Our men are falling. We need orders!"

  Fear and confusion gripped the cavalry as their once disciplined lines fragmented under the relentless fire. The sight of their comrades falling one by one, coupled with the unknown positions of their adversaries, only fueled their panic. The organized advance had devolved into a chaotic retreat, the cavalry scattered in disarray.

  Frustration etched deeply on his face, Commander Ranjit Rao roared orders to charge, relying on sheer numbers to break the enemy lines.

  "Advance! Push them back! We have the numbers to break their lines!"

  "Stay focused, men! Fight for victory!"

  However, fate had other pns. As a gift for showing himself as leader, he was greeted with a lone bullet, fired with chilling accuracy, that struck his shoulder, causing him to fall from his horse.

  "Dammit… ! Don't let my fall be in vain! Break their defenses!"

  The pain was sharp, but the real blow was to his command. Despite his injury, Ranjit's men pressed forward, but the absence of their leader was keenly felt as they rushed in the chaos.

  The musketeers, sensing the full scale charge, quickly adapted to a wedge (v-shape) formation with their bayonets poised upward. The remaining ten musketeers, acting as cover snipers from dark alleys, picked off enemy leaders with ruthless efficiency. The disarrayed cavalry, now devoid of effective leadership, was further demoralized by the scattered but precise fire.

  Varun Khatri, witnessing the dire situation, felt a pang of frustration. The arrival of reinforcements had briefly lifted his spirits, but seeing Ranjit's injury and the mounting casualties drained all hope.

  "No… it's over. We can't afford more losses!"

  "Fall back! Fall back now! We're pulling out!"

  Reluctant to face further losses or risk his own life, Varun yelled for a retreat. His troops, exhausted and terrified, withdrew with a collective sigh of relief.

  Aditya, observing the retreat of the mercenary cavalry, felt a surge of relief. However, his attention was quickly drawn to a sound from the rear. He saw his musketeers still valiantly holding their ground, but they were being thinned under the relentless pressure.

  He ordered brijesh soldiers to maintain their square formation, shifting the focus of his crossbowmen to target the standard cavalry with a relentless hail of arrows. Meanwhile, he passed the message to Bheem, instructing him to halt his pursuit and concentrate on the remaining enemy cavalry with the royal forces. Meenakshi, still out of range, continued to harass the fleeing enemy, ensuring they couldn't regroup.

  The combined assault of arrows and muskets proved devastating for the remaining standard cavalry in the north. With the musketeers offering a deadly resistance and the crossbowmen cutting down anyone attempting to regroup, the battlefield became a scene of relentless carnage.

  They received a brief respite, but it was merely the calm before the storm. Bheem's cavalry crashed into them without hesitation, as the firing ceased to avoid friendly fire. Moments ter, Meenakshi's unit joined the fray, adding further pressure to the disarrayed cavalry.

  Aditya, recognizing the critical moment, made a bold decision. He weakened his infantry formation, allowing half of them to join the crossbowmen. Grasping a crossbow himself, he joined the ranks, adding his own fire to the precise shooting that continued to dismantle the enemy's resistance.

  Meanwhile, the standard cavalry could not withstand the assault with ck of leadership. Their discipline dissolved in the face of survival instincts. The crossbowmen's arrows, the musketeers' bayonets, and the relentless attacks of Aditya's elite guards and royal cavalry wreaked havoc. The battlefield was littered with the fallen, and the few who remained chose to surrender or flee, unable to withstand the onsught.

  As the enemy's numbers dwindled and their surrender became inevitable, Aditya felt a profound sense of relief. "The battlefield is ours. Clean up the remnants and secure the area," he ordered.

  "Look at the enemy retreating! We've turned the tide!"

  "We're saved! They've pushed them back!"

  The soldiers cheered in triumph while the vilgers cried out in joy.

  Yet, some still wept for their lost homes as the fire, now nearly consuming the entire vilge, raged uncontrolbly. Aditya, witnessing the inferno, bore the image in his heart. The weight of survival was heavy. The ambush at sleep and the full-scale battle was a narrow escape from death, and since he survived, it's time to return the favor tenfold.

  Answering to his calls, the heavens also pyed their hand, as Captain Raghav approached, dragging the wounded man. "Sir, we've got their commander," he reported.