Empire of India: Rise of the Ruthless Prince

The tension in the main tent was palpable. All the commanders were present for the last discussion before marching to battle. Beside Bhairava stood Arjun, his aide and bodyguard.

Vikrama was looking at reports and checking all the tactics and terrain map for the battle.

"Are the preparations done?" Bhairava asked.

Bhairava was donning ornate armor with golden details and royal insignia. He was prepared to fight his nemesis.

Vikrama stood up.

"Yes, Your Highness. Everything is in place." He looked at the report and continued, "I have to discuss our strategy for the battle."

"What is it?"

"Look at this, Your Highness." Vikrama passed some papers to each one of the commanders present.

"Hmm!! This seems doable." Bhairava looked up at Arjun and asked. "Any new information on their army?"

"None! Your Highness. We haven't noticed any unusual movements."

"Hmmm!!"

Bhairava looked around the tent.

"Does anyone have anything to say?"

Silence.

"The meeting is over! Prepare to march!"

The final meeting was done, and Bhairava went out of the tent, looking over the soldier preparing for the battle. The cannon shells were being prepared by the crew, specially trained with the help of Alfonso.

It was fine morning. The sun was finally rising over the horizon. The coldness of the night was fading. He got on his horse and began to march towards the capital.

The final battle of Hampi was about to begin.

Bhairava looked aimless. He had worked hard to reach this stage, but now he felt empty. The sole reason for his goal was no longer with him.

Even in the face of despair, he didn't want to give up. He wanted to personally kill Chandra for his revenge. He knew well that killing Chandra and risking his life wouldn't bring his mother back.

But his heart wasn't calming down. The whole world crashed down on him. It was like all his years of hard work shattered in an instant.

Bhairava blamed himself for his mother's death.

He should have anticipated Chandra would target his mother.

He should have protected her better.

'It is all my fault.'

'Mother…'

'I am sorry for being an incompetent son.'

'I never made you proud.'

Bhairava briefly remembered his past as he was making his way to the battle.

His mother was an ambitious woman. She knew that the kingdom of Cochin wouldn't survive, so she married the Emperor. After his birth, his mother pushed her ambitions on him. He was supposed to fulfill her ambition.

From a young age, he was trained in several things to compete with other heirs. His mother was working to gather influence at such a young age. The weight of the expectations fell upon his young little shoulder. Despite this, instead of crying. He tried his best.

Young Bhairava yearned for love and acknowledgement from his mother. He never got anything but expectations from her.

He worked day and night honing his abilities to impress and get acknowledged by his mother. Bhairava once heard his mother speaking to his uncle, Rama Varma.

"I want him to become the Emperor!"

"But Sister. He is so young; you are pushing him too hard. He has no friends, and he just keeps studying."

"He should be able to beat the first prince."

"You are not even showing a speck of love to that child. Is he just your tool for your ambition?"

"Watch your words, Rama." His mother warned, "If he can become the Emperor, I will acknowledge him."

"You are a cruel woman, Sister!" His uncle stormed off.

Young Bhairava, who secretly heard this, just had a single thought passing through his mind at that moment.

'If I become the Emperor. Mother will like me?' He clenched his small fist with determination.

That day, he vowed to take the throne.

Now the reason to take the throne was no more.

He looked up at the sky.

'I should have gotten along with others.'

A blaring war horn interrupted his thoughts. Another army came into view. Bhairava scanned the battlefield. The first prince was elegant as usual, riding his horse, awaiting Bhairava's arrival.

Bhairava could see Chandra's grin from the distance. Anger boiled within him. He tried to control his anger.

He clenched his fist.

Both armies were equipped with top-quality armor. He could sense the feeling of foreboding. Bhairava already anticipated some variables for the battle.

Harsha was a variable in his eyes.

He didn't know the location of Harsha, which made him even more dangerous. Bhairava relied on his instinct to guess his location. The assassins were sent to Bidar. Considering his escape route and the Nayakas being close to the Machilipatnam.

It didn't make sense for Harsha to hide behind Nayakas. Both He and Chandra would stop the Nayakas.

So the most likely location that he would be was the east of the capital.

'He would have a smaller army as well. So if I were him. He would make an entry on the 2nd or 3rd day of battle.'

Bhairava already mentioned this to Vikrama alone. He planned to push Chandra's army towards the east to ensure Harsha would target the first prince and give him an advantage.

The messengers were exchanged, and the war formalities were all finished. The flags of each faction fluttering mightily as the sun rose, highly casting its morning rays on the battlefield.

Eerie silence settled on the battlefield. It was serene calm before the battlefield.

Bhairava's gaze shifted to Chandra.

"Bastard!! I shall gift my soul to the devil to take your head!" He muttered.

The conch shell blew. The sound echoed through the battlefield. Battle cries of the soldiers thundered through the capital. The ground trembled as soldiers began to charge to battle.

The Battle of Hampi begins.