As the moon reached it's peak, a 17-year-old boy, stood in the ranks of the rebels as militia , waiting for marching orders in the shadows of forest. He wore chest armour reinforced with leather, simple leather bracers on his forearms and legs, and a dhoti, with bare feet. With a round shield in his left hand and a spear in his right, he might have looked like a ragtag bandit to others, but he felt dignified, no less than a noble. And his name was Nirbhay.

  He was part of a group of ten, led by an experienced soldier of the rebel alliance.

  "Lucky bastard! One day, I'll have my own armour like that," Nirbhay thought, feeling a pang of jealousy as he looked at their leader, cd in full chainmail armor with a proper helmet and leather boots.

  "What are you looking at? Do you want to die?" snapped his elder brother, nudging him sharply with his elbow and speaking in a low voice.

  It was his elder brother Niraj, 19 years old, who was in the same getup, standing beside him. Their eldest brother Naman, 21 years old, standing behind them, cleared his throat and signalled them to focus.

  The soldier assigned as their leader didn't care about such nuisances. His eyes were fixed on the frontline, which was still preparing for the assault on the fort. He stood in stoic attention, looking more like a scarecrow, unapproachable but undeniably the command centre for their small group.

  The group held rge wooden stake of pallisade walls in front, along with additional personal wooden shields in back to protect themselves from the rain of arrows. This was the state of the entire army consisting such groups, almost 200,000 strong, all in tight formation, waiting for the signal as more groups took their positions in the forest.

  Nirbhay turned to his right and saw many such small groups, comprising purely of professional soldiers in better armor among the militia. Some wielded swords, others spears, including archers in the midst but their formations looked top-notch compared to the rest. One of the professional soldiers even winked at him, making him panic and look straight ahead. Bored with the slow formation, he started drawing shapes with his toe, getting lost in thought.

  He wondered if the news of nd grabbing was actually true. Initially, he was just a helper on his father's nd, leased from a zamindar. The tax was heavy, but they still got to keep 20 percent of the produce. Like many others, his father abandoned the zamindar's nds, took a loan from government welfare offices, and settled on the outskirts of the forest by clearing a vast amount of nd.

  However, everything changed one day when instead of his father, his father's dead body returned home. The local soldiers of the zamindar, who brought the dead vilgers, told them that they were killed by imperial soldiers .

  The reason being was the vilgers protesting against new ws that stated the interest rate had increased and their nds would be seized if they failed to comply.

  At first, it felt shady, but the testimony from the survivors confirmed that it was all part of the empire's pn to clear nds and acquire houses with less bor. Outrage was common, and he and his brothers enlisted in the rebellion as the king's cousin appeared as a beacon of hope.

  Being a noble and a valid heir to the throne, he promised justice and the restoration of their situation once he was crowned. Thanks to that, Nirbhay found himself in this battle, seeking justice for all those who had wronged his family. He still couldn't forget his mother's tears.

  "Dasta! (simir to squad), prepare for charge!. We all move as one," echoed their leader's coarse voice, bringing Nirbhay back to reality. They called their leader "Sarkar."

  They marched in unison, the thumping of feet audible in the still night. The cold breeze made Nirbhay's hair stand on end, his breathing became ragged, and his heart pounded as he emerged from the forest. The sight of the massive fort walls fueled his rage. He tightened his grip on his spear and gritted his teeth.

  A loud noise behind him caught his attention. His eyes widened as he saw rge structures being pushed forward by professional soldiers in armor.

  "Look at that dder... it's so big.. and it has wheels!" Niraj murmured.

  "So we have to climb that?" asked a nearby conscript from another Dasta.

  "Small brain, do you think they'll open the gates to greet us with open arms?" another conscript retorted.

  Despite the murmurs, the formation remained strong. Another voice excimed, "Oh my god, a moving hut!"

  "Silence! Either keep your voice low, or I'll cut your tongue, peasant," a stern Sarkar from that group scolded.

  Seeing that a little conversation was allowed, Naman addressed his brothers. "We're in this together. No matter what, we stay by each other's side."

  Nirbhay and Niraj nodded. Their own Sarkar seemed preoccupied, not minding the ongoing gossip.

  As the siege machines moved forward, their Sarkar barked another order. "If anyone wants to leave, do it now. Once we march, if you abandon us, you die. We fight for you, among you, and you will follow me to recim what is ours. Am I clear?"

  "Yes, Sarkar!" the soldiers responded in unison.

  The horn blew, signaling the beginning of the battle. Drums of war sounded, and the fg of rebels fluttered among the soldiers. Nirbhay watched in awe as thousands of men marched in tight formation like matchboxes in a tray.

  His awe turned to horror as fire arrows, glowing like malevolent stars in the darkened sky, rained down upon the advancing ranks. The air crackled with heat as the arrows found their marks, some embedding themselves in shields and wooden barricades, others igniting fires that spread swiftly among the tightly packed soldiers.

  Shield-bearers valiantly bore the brunt, their shields abze or discarded in desperation as comrades fell. They got struck by invisible arrows from above due to darkness filled in sky.

  The march continued, slow and relentless, amidst the harrowing shrieks of men caught in the deadly rain. Casualties mounted with every step, the ground slick with blood and the air thick with the bitter scent of burning flesh. It became evident to all that breaking formation meant certain death, either by fire, arrow, or the merciless trample of panicked comrades.

  This was eye-opening for Nirbhay. He couldn't imagine the horrors of battle where the enemy was unseen, yet the casualties kept rising. Panic set in as he advanced from the heart of the rebel's onsught .

  But the worst was yet to come. As the frontline soldiers closed within 50 meters of the fort's towering walls, massive stones hurtled through the air in deadly arcs. These meteors flew past the 400-meter mark and struck the front lines from multiple angles.

  With earth-shattering thuds, these colossal projectiles crashed into their ranks, toppling men and breaking their formation like fragile dolls. Shields splintered, wooden stakes of the pallisade shattered, and the unfortunate souls caught beneath were crushed without mercy.

  The horror escated further when stones lit with roaring fmes joined the onsught. These fiery meteors plummeted from the heavens, setting the battlefield abze upon impact. Cries of anguish and terror mingled with the crackling of fmes as chaos engulfed the advancing force.

  Many recruits broke formation, unable to handle the destruction, only to be shot or impaled by their own soldiers. The message was clear: there was no turning back. Nirbhay's hands turned cold with fear, but a gentle pat on his shoulder calmed him. It was Naman.

  "It's alright. We'll make it out alive," Naman assured.

  Nirbhay nodded, regaining his composure. The fming stone assault was limited in number and mostly targeted the siege structures, but it still caused significant casualties.

  As the frontline soldiers neared the fallen around the moat, they threw palisade walls to form bridges to avoid the traps and took the shield in back to cover up. Despite heavy losses, they pressed on, driven by fear of the bdes behind them or the hope of reciming their homes and nd.

  Eventually, the area near the moat was filled enough to cross. Ladders were pced, and soldiers began scaling the walls. Even battering rams reached the gates, only to be met with boiling oil and burning objects. The fight was so intense that even professional soldiers struggled. Bodies piled up as men fell from the walls.

  More dders were added, and grappling hooks were flung at the walls. Despite the casualties, the soldiers kept climbing.

  The gates still stood intact, but the walls were breached. Despite the huge casualties, sheer numbers allowed the soldiers to reach the walls.

  Slowly, more men breached the walls, and the barrage of fire arrows and fming stones lessened. Soon their time came, and they reached the wall, this time using a normal dder. As soon as they touched the wall, they witnessed the csh of soldiers upon soldiers.

  A handful of expert soldiers, acting as the st line of defense, desperately attempted to tie down the enemy forces, buying precious moments for the newcomers to establish a foothold on wall. Yet, overwhelmed by the sheer tide of attackers, these guardians were swiftly cut down, repced in rapid succession by fresh waves of assaints.

  Suddenly, an arrow flew towards Nirbhay. He tilted slightly, causing the arrow to narrowly miss him and hit the person behind him, slicing his cheek slightly.

  Horrified, Nirbhay turned to see his eldest brother, Naman, clutching the arrow lodged in his chest. Tears brimmed in Naman's eyes as he struggled to keep his promise, his strength failing him as he staggered backward and slipped through the breach in the wall.

  "NOOOO!" Nirbhay cried out as he tried to pull out his hand, leaving the spear, but his brother fell, touching his hand slightly before crashing into the moat among the other corpses.

  Time seemed to slow down as Nirbhay couldn't hear or comprehend anything. It was only the urgent shaking of his elder brother, Niraj, that snapped him back to reality.

  Niraj cupped Nirbhay's cheeks with tears in his eyes and shouted to make his voice heard in the chaotic battle.

  "We're on our own now, Nirbhay! Pick up your weapon! Pick it up!," his brother urged.

  Coming back to his senses, Nirbhay threw his shield aside and picked up a spear in his right hand and an axe in his left. He charged at the enemies in rage, with Niraj quickly following him, yelling for him to calm down.

  Nirbhay became fearless, breaking through the ranks and pressing his spear towards the enemy soldiers, aiming for the gaps amidst the close proximity of struggling enemies. The spear luckily found its mark, impaling an enemy soldier's colrbone. He swung his axe and hacked at another's neck.

  With weapons in both hands, he went on a full offensive, thrusting and slicing madly at anyone not in his ranks. This caught the enemy soldiers off guard to face the nonsensical enemy, exposing gaps that were exploited by other professionals.

  Soon, they began moving forward. With the area secured, more dders and hooks were pced on that section of the wall, allowing other soldiers to pour in.

  Suddenly, without warning, a burning stone, resembling a meteor in its fiery trajectory, crashed down upon the section of the wall they had just secured. Many bodies were badly mutited, limbs separated or bodies burned. The sheer impact knocked off those who were climbing. A total silence fell over the pce.

  Nirbhay stood up, dusted himself off, coughing blood, and looked around desperately for his brother amidst the grotesque pile of blown-up corpses.

  His eyes fell on soldiers below the wall waiting their turn, while the stairs were filled with soldiers rushing in and out. In the distance, he saw a woman engaged in a deadly dance of death with tens of soldiers from his side, slicing and stabbing with unimaginable skill.

  However, the spectacle was short-lived as an arrow sliced his leg, causing him to lose bance.

  Gritting his teeth against the torment, Nirbhay grasped his spear tightly. Despite feeling tired and exhausted, he gathered his will to stand up again to kill the female warrior who seemed to lead the enemy onsught. He dragged his body with a limping leg, holding the spear in hand with rage filling his mind, but another arrow struck his other leg, causing him to colpse down.

  This time, as he lost consciousness, all he could see was that figure cutting his comrades like hot knife on butter, before darkness closed in around him as consciousness slipped away.