Empire of India: Rise of the Ruthless Prince

Without warning, Varun lunged forward, his sword aimed at Harsha's torso. The prince deflected the blow easily, countering with a quick slash that Varun barely managed to dodge. The clash of wood echoed through the field, breaking the tense silence.

The soldiers watched in awe as the duel progressed. Harsha's movements were fluid and precise, contrasting to Varun's more forceful and direct attacks.

Harsha landed a swift jab, but Varun deflected it with ease. Not one to be deterred, Harsha parried a powerful swing from Varun and quickly retaliated with a sharp swipe at the soldier's ribs. The blow connected with force, causing Varun to back away in pain. Harsha stood his ground with an amused expression.

'Well, he is decent! Looking at his swordplay, he has honed his basics to the maximum potential. Let's test his limits! ' Harsha thought, a spark of excitement in his eyes.

Harsha shifted to a low stance to give himself more stability, recalling the close combat techniques from his previous life. Varun closed the distance in a split second, thrusting precisely at Harsha's side. Harsha responded with a quick dodge, narrowly avoiding the attack.

Varun, unfazed, lowered his stance and launched a relentless onslaught of powerful attacks. Each swing and thrust was fierce, yet Harsha read his moves with ease. Dodging and deflecting effortlessly, he moved with grace and agility.

The soldiers watching the duel were in awe of Harsha's prowess. His movements were a seamless blend of skill and intuition, making it seem as if he could predict Varun's every move. Varun, despite his best efforts, found himself unable to land a decisive blow.

Realizing he needed to change his strategy, Varun backed away and paused for a brief moment, breathing heavily.

Harsha walked towards Varun in a relaxed manner, his every movement fluid and controlled. Varun watched him intently, readying himself for the next assault. Without warning, Harsha closed the distance with startling speed, slashing at Varun's neck with precision. Varun ducked just in time, the wooden blade whistling past his head.

With a flick of his wrist, Harsha changed the direction of his attack, slashing at Varun's shoulder. Varun deftly deflected the blow, his sword ringing against Harsha's. Harsha's relentless onslaught continued, not giving Varun a moment to rest. Each swing and thrust was a blur, growing more precise and faster with each passing second.

Varun did his best to parry and dodge the attacks, his muscles straining under the pressure. Sweat dripped down his forehead as he fought to keep up with Harsha's increasing speed. Despite his best efforts, Harsha's skill was overwhelming.

Finally, Varun's defense faltered. Harsha's blade landed a solid hit on his thigh, causing him to wince in pain and back away. Harsha followed up with a swift punch to Varun's chin with his free hand, sending him staggering and then crashing to the ground. The soldiers watching the duel held their breath, the tension in the air palpable.

They watched in awe as the young prince dismantled the second-strongest guard with relative ease.

Narayana, watching with an uninterested gaze, thought, 'Small fry! Varun was easy to defeat anyway. I don't know why others make a big deal of that guy! ' Narayana had defeated Varun in every duel they had, his overwhelming physical advantage always securing his victories.

Harsha sheathed his sword and extended a hand to Varun, helping him to his feet. "Well fought, Varun," he said.

Varun nodded, rubbing his sore chin. "Thank you, Your Highness," he replied, his respect for Harsha growing despite his defeat.

"Vice-Commander, is he the best one of the bunch?" Harsha asked, pointing to Varun.

"Um... Your Highness, no," Rama Nayaka replied, stuttering slightly.

"So you thought I was weak and sent in Varun?" Harsha's tone was sharp, his eyes narrowing.

"No, Your Highness! That was never my intention!" Rama Nayaka hurriedly explained.

"Varun was the strongest just a few months back until Narayana joined the Palace Guard."

"Who is this Narayana?" Harsha inquired, his curiosity piqued.

The Vice-Commander's gaze shifted to a giant man towering over the other guards. Narayana had a youthful appearance and a great physique that complemented his height well.

"So, you thought he would overwhelm me physically? Is that it?" Harsha asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Unfortunately, yes, Your Highness," Rama Nayaka admitted. "Normal soldiers cannot afford to injure members of the royal family as we would face severe consequences."

Harsha's expression softened slightly, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "I understand your caution, Vice-Commander. But today, let's see if Narayana is up for the challenge. Bring him forward."

Rama Nayaka nodded and motioned for Narayana to step forward. The towering guard approached with a confident stride, his eyes locking onto Harsha's.

As Narayana stepped forward, Rama Nayaka whispered to him, "Don't go overboard, Narayana. Let the Prince win, don't injure him, or else it will be bad for all of us."

Narayana's expression hardened. His pride and arrogance wouldn't allow him to lose easily. He had never lost in his life, neither in his village nor on the battlefield.

'Do you think I would go easy on this pipsqueak just because he is a prince? I'll show him true talent and power,' Narayana thought, a fierce determination in his eyes.

"Your Highness, I am ready," Narayana said, bowing slightly.

Harsha nodded. "Good. Let's begin."

They took their stances. Narayana's towering figure contrasted sharply with Harsha's leaner build, but Harsha's confident demeanor spoke volumes about his own abilities.

Narayana's swings were faster and stronger than Varun's but lacked precision, allowing Harsha to deftly dodge each swing by a hair's breadth. Frustration was mounting in Narayana's eyes as his attacks failed to connect.

After a flurry of unfruitful swings, Narayana stepped back and taunted, "Your Highness, don't just keep dodging—fight back!"

Harsha chuckled, pointing his wooden sword at Narayana. "Ahahahha, you seem to be quite a character," he said with a grin. "But think, why can't you hit me? Eh?"

Narayana's face flushed with anger. Harsha's grin widened. As Narayana charged again, Harsha's movements became a blur of precision and speed. He deflected Narayana's powerful swings with ease, each deflection seamlessly transitioning into a counterattack.

His strikes were controlled and aimed to exploit Narayana's lack of precision and overreliance on brute force.

The soldiers watched in awe as Harsha's wooden sword struck Narayana's exposed sides and legs, each blow delivered with calculated force. Narayana's frustration grew, his swings becoming wilder and more desperate.

The final blow came as Narayana swung a vertical cut at Harsha. Sidestepping swiftly, Harsha struck Narayana's wrists with enough force to knock his sword to the ground. In the same fluid motion, Harsha swept his leg out, causing Narayana to collapse onto the ground.

The duel was over, with Harsha achieving an overwhelming victory. Narayana's ego lay shattered, and he stared at the ground in anger and frustration, panting heavily.

"You're strong, Narayana," Harsha said, his voice calm and measured. "But strength without control is like a river without banks. It lacks direction."

Narayana grabbed the wooden sword in rage and thought, 'I refuse to go down like this.' He got up swiftly and swung with all his might at the prince's torso.

"That's enough sparring for today, I gu—" Harsha instinctively blocked the heavy blow with his sword, which shattered, and the blow connected, throwing him a couple of meters away.

Harsha looked up to see Narayana standing, ready to charge at him. He glanced at the broken sword hilt in his hand, wincing in pain. Swiftly, he got up, rolling on his back. The soldiers gasped, frozen in place, unsure of what to do.

Rama Nayaka shouted, "Narayana, stand down! This is treason!" But Narayana seemed deaf to his words, his rage blinding him to the consequences.

"AHAHAHA! NOW THIS IS FUN!! IF YOU WERE LIKE THIS FROM THE BEGINNING, I WOULD HAVE HAD SO MUCH FUN!" Harsha's laughter echoed through the field.

He threw the broken sword hilt at Narayana to stop his charge and swiftly closed the distance, dodging Narayana's wild swings. Harsha jumped up and planted a solid hit with his knee on Narayana's chest, pushing him back.

"COME ON!! WHAT HAPPENED? FIGHT!!"

Harsha closed in again, kicking Narayana's knee, causing him to stagger, and followed up with a punch to his liver.

"ARGHHHH!" Narayana screamed in agony.

Harsha grabbed Narayana by the hair and drove his knee into his face several times, his laughter echoing through the training ground. The soldiers watched in frozen horror as the prince pummeled Narayana.

"FIGHT BACK! NOW," Harsha yelled, driving another knee into Narayana's face before letting go. Narayana's body crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

Harsha stood over Narayana, his breathing heavy, his eyes wild with a mix of adrenaline and satisfaction. He raised his foot, ready to drive it into Narayana's head.

Rama Nayaka and the other guards quickly intervened, rushing to stop the prince and ensure Narayana wasn't severely injured. The vice-commander's face was pale with shock and worry. "Your Highness, please, that's enough!"

Harsha took a deep breath, reigning in his emotions. He looked down at the unconscious Narayana with cold eyes.

Turning to the vice-commander and adjusting his clothes, Harsha said, "Ensure he receives medical attention and no need to punish him for this. And know this: I will be training here every morning. I will be sparring with Varun and Narayana," gesturing towards the fallen guard.

Rama Nayaka nodded swiftly, gesturing urgently for the medics to tend to Narayana. The soldiers, still in shock from witnessing the intense altercation, slowly began to disperse as the training session abruptly ended. By the end of the day, rumors about the fight had spread like wildfire throughout the palace, leaving an air of tension and speculation among the courtiers and servants alike.