Empire of India: Rise of the Ruthless Prince

After the bold declaration of Shivaji, carnage ensued on the city plaza. Marathas were emboldened seeing their commander rise up to the occasion and fight back with all their might.

The Maratha began to put their lives on the line to push back the Mughals.

They were like a horde of zombies slashing and stabbing every Mughal in their paths. They didn't stop even when their lives were threatened. Soldiers swung their swords with single arms. They didn't stop till the last flicker of life was extinguished and they couldn't move.

Mughals panicked under the ferocious onslaught. They were pushed back and the bodies of their comrades were piling up with each passing moment.

Askar's attention was all on Shivaji. His sword moved gracefully, slicing the necks of his enemy with great precision. He was in the zone. Askar could feel it.

The zone was the peak immersive state of someone; their senses are heightened, and each action they take would be effortless; they can remain calm in the worst of the worst.

Askar shuddered, looking at the gaze of Shivaji. His eyes were emotionless, hollow, and the air around him was eerily calm.

Blood was splattered all over his face.

'Is this what that man said? Flow.'

Askar mind raced. 'This is the state of "Flow". The peak of immersion.'

Askar's instincts screamed to back off from the fight but he gritted his teeth and walked towards Shivaji.

'I will take my revenge! Me, Askar, will not lose to this child.'

A head rolled towards him as he walked forward. It seemed to be stuck in time. The face of agony was etched in his mind.

'What??'

It was the head of his Vice-commander Usman.

Shivaji killed him with a single strike. The Mughals soldiers were scared to even approach Shivaji.

Askar took a deep breath for the last time and charged.

*CLASH*

The sound of metal echoed through the plaza as the fight between the commanders began. It was a blur; each strike was precise. They both were fast and precisely swinging at each other's vital parts.

Both Mughals and Marathas watched in awe at their fight. There was not a single opening to intervene in their battle. It was like they were battling in their own world.

Shivaji was dodging each strike by Askar by a hair's breadth; small scratches began to form on his face.

Despite being in the flow, Askar wasn't an easy opponent. He was still keeping up with Shivaji at his peak performance.

Meanwhile, the deaths of the Marathas piled up as the Mughals numerical superiority was showing it's fangs. There was just 10% of the force remaining on the Marathas side. The corpses piled up like a small mountain in the plaza.

More Mughals swarmed into the plaza.

*SLASH*

Askar sliced off the eye of Shivaji.

Adrenaline coursed through his body. The pain was nothing.

'I will protect!'

Each slash was getting difficult to block.

'I will protect!'

His movements were slowing down.

'I will protect Karnavati.'

*SLASH*

A soldier snuck up behind him and slashed off his arm. Shivaji gritted his teeth and killed the Mughal soldier.

Askar kicked him towards the mountain of corpses.

Shivaji stood up.

He gripped his sword in one hand, the other side bleeding profusely.

Askar had a dark smile on his face.

"Finally," he said.

"I-"

"What? Do you want to beg for your life?" Askar taunted.

"I will protect."

He was bleeding from his eyes and from his arms. His gaze was still focused on Askar.

"That gaze. I will kill you." Askar roared and charged.

Shivaji tried to jump to avoid the swing to his torso. He was too late. The sword struck his right knee joint with such strength that it went off flying to the other side.

The world turned upside down as he crashed down the mountain of corpses.

"HAHAHA! You will protect who?" Askar laughed standing on top of the corpses. "You puny insect, you can't protect anything."

Shivaji crawled and propped himself up with a single leg.

He stood up again.

"I will protect." He pointed his sword at Askar.

That gaze of Shivaji made him even more angry.

'What drives this bastard to push this far?"

Askar wanted a complete victory. He wanted to show him the despair of not being able to protect his motherland.

"Crawl you insect and fight me at the top."

Shivaji used his sword to crawl back to the top; he was still bleeding profusely, and his mind was hazy. His breathing jagged.

His mind had a single thought.

'Protect Karnavati.'

He stood at the peak of the mountain of corpses. His remaining leg trembled as he pointed his sword at him.

"Look down, you insect!" Askar pointed at the last Maratha soldier being killed by the Mughals. The citizens of the city peeked through the windows and witnessed the defeat of their soldiers.

"Your comrades all died in vain. They couldn't protect Karnavati. Can you do that all alone?"

Shivaji didn't glance back even in the slightest and smiled.

"They did their best! I am proud."

Askar sliced his remaining eye off. "You scum!"

'I will break you,'

Askar swore.

"You can't even see your beloved capital now." He laughed.

Shivaji didn't fall; he was bleeding from both his eyes; his arm and leg were severed.

Yet his spirit didn't break. He still pointed his sword at Askar.

"I WILL PROTECT." He roared.

Every Mughal soldier in the plaza shuddered.

He was the only one alive, yet the roar scared them.

Askar was furious. Anger took over his mind as he realized he couldn't break the young man's spirit.

"Die."

*STAB*

He stabbed Shivaji in the chest. Unfortunately for Askar, his momentary anger blinded him.

Shivaji tensed his muscles to trap the sword in his chest.

Askar's world turned upside down. His head rolled like a ball down the mountain of corpses.

Shivaji, with his last bit of strength, had beheaded Askar in front of all the Mughals soldiers.

He coughed out blood.

Shivaji couldn't see or feel anything as his body was slowly going numb from the lack of blood.

*Cough*

Blood came out of his mouth.

He stabbed his sword on a corpse and leaned on it.

"KARNAVATI SHALL NOT FALL TILL I BREATHE."

Shivaji's roar reverberated through the silent city.

His ears twitched as he heard a faint blaring Maratha war horn in the distance.

The prince was here.

A smile formed on his face.

'Mother! Did I do well?'

It was his last thought.

Shivaji died smiling.

The citizens witnessed something special.

Something that would be immortalized in this sacred soil for centuries to come.

It was the Advent of a Hero.

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