The fort's inner and outer walls were separated by a distance of 50-70 meters, dictated by the natural terrain. The inner wall was manned exclusively by expert archers and equipped with a few catapults, while the outer wall hosted a diverse mix of archers, spearmen, swordsmen, and additional catapults.

  Between the walls, the space was occupied by reserve military units and civilians handling logistics. Serpentine stairs connected the outer walls, often forming descending secondary walls at choke points. These stairs featured broader spaces and proper boundary walls, enhancing the fort's defensive capabilities.

  Initially, the archers occupied the first three rows at the front, with two rows of infantry following behind. The catapults were guarded by a small group of Portuguese armed with pikes and muskets, alongside local swordsmen with shield. Once the battle commenced, the archers exchanged their bows for spears or swords matching their units, transforming into a formidable defensive formation.

  Due to the overwhelming surge of enemies and prolonged fighting, the forces on the wall became exhausted and urgently needed reinforcement. During the transition, several slip-ups occurred, allowing enemies to breach the fort's defences.

  Few moments before in Southern section of wall

  "Don't let a single man get past us!"

  Sardar Ajay and his unit defended the southern wall with their blood and sweat. Chaos erupted as rebels managed to scale the walls with dder towers.

  "Bring them down!"

  Ajay's soldiers fought with fierce determination, employing a variety of tactics to impede the enemy's progress. They pushed away conventional dders, cut through grappling ropes, and obstructed the approach of dder towers.

  The weight of the dder towers' dders was substantial, making them difficult to shake off once assaints had already climbed near the wall. From above, they hurled rocks and poured hot oil, aiming to knock down the climbers. Those who reached the top were swiftly met with thrusts of swords by Ajay's soldiers.

  Arrows rained down from both sides, striking indiscriminately.

  "There's a breach! There's a breach!" a fellow soldier panicked. Amidst this chaos, a commotion erupted on Sardar Ajay's left fnk.

  "Send more soldiers upfront there."

  Rebels had managed to gain a foothold, and to control the situation, he dispatched his soldiers to hold them off until reinforcements could arrive.

  However, this maneuver weakened his own position. More towers and dders were pced against his section of the wall, increasing the struggle for his men.

  "We need more men over here. Where are the reinforcements?"

  As he sliced the neck of a soldier attempting to climb up, Ajay looked down to see the body fall. Suddenly, a spear pierced his chest emerging from darkness, forcing him to stagger back and colpse.

  The attacker had been waiting for the right moment and, with sheer luck, wounded the commanding leader of the defending unit.

  Sardar Ajay tried to stand, but exhaustion and blood loss made it impossible. He watched helplessly as his men were overwhelmed and sughtered. The enemy who had speared him advanced, ready to deliver the final blow.

  Ajay closed his eyes, bracing for death, but the sudden sound of a stabbing made him open his eyes in surprise. The enemy was killed by a sword held by the princess Meenakshi herself. He saw more enemies hurrying to confront her, but her calm and resolute face reassured him. She was not the prey but the predator in waiting.

  Darkness closed in on him as he lost consciousness, but not before feeling a glimmer of hope.

  Meenakshi found herself encircled by ten soldiers, their mocking gazes fixed upon her. One of them didn't even bother to make eye contact, deeming her too insignificant to acknowledge.

  "Spread and help others to breach," ordered the new assaint redirecting to other areas.

  Those who scaled afterward followed the remaining sides to confront the defending forces.

  "What a shame! Do you think that sword is your kitchen knife?" the main assaint taunted.

  Suddenly, his comrade pulled him towards himself and whispered something in his ear, signaling with his eyes towards the sword soaked in blood.

  "Beware, she is a skilled master," said the main assaint, prompting others to change their demeanor. They encircled her to get their chance to strike first through a bnk spot.

  Her sharp eyes watched them without emotion. She continually shifted her movements, her sword held defensively, while she surveyed their every move. Since childhood, she had been trained in Karipayattu, and tonight, her skills would be tested like never before.

  Her movements were precise and posture perfect, not giving the attackers any gap to exploit. Getting frustrated, the assaint leader barked,

  "You think you can scare us just by staring?" He lunged at her with a ferocious shout.

  In an instant, she parried his strike with a smooth, circur motion of her right sword (Churika), redirecting his bde harmlessly away. Her left sword (Valum Paricha) sliced through the air, finding the gap in his armor and cutting across his torso with deadly accuracy. He crumpled to the ground in disbelief.

  Two more attackers came at her from either side. She spun on her heel, her swords whirling in a mesmerizing dance. Her movements were fluid, like water flowing over stones. She ducked under a clumsy swing, her right sword slicing upward to sever a man's arm (Marmam).

  "My Arm! My Arm!"

  He screamed and fell back, clutching his ruined limb. Without missing a beat, she pivoted, her left sword cutting across the approaching second man's throat in a swift, lethal arc (Adavukal). Blood sprayed into the surroundings as he fell down.

  The remaining men hesitated, wary of her lethal grace. She used their moment of indecision to her advantage, advancing with a series of quick, rhythmic steps, her feet moving in perfect harmony (Meithari). Her swords fshed in the moonlight as an extension of her will.

  "Take this, WHORE!!"

  One man charged, hoping to overpower her with brute strength.

  She met his assault head-on. Her sword strikes blurred as they deflected all his strikes while her legs kept moving her back as if she were sliding on ice. In a dazzling dispy of skill, she disarmed him with a precise cut to his wrist through her left (Vadivu) and then spun and drove her sword through his heart (Marma Adi).

  Another tried to take her from behind, but she sensed his approach. With a swift spin, she evaded his attack, her swords creating a protective whirlwind around her. She struck low, her right sword cutting into his thigh (Ottakkol), bringing him to his knees. She finished him with a clean, upward thrust through his chest (Ettavukal).

  Four men remained, their confidence waning. She faced them with her two swords dripping blood, her eyes cold and focused.

  By this time her aides came but they got busy tying up the rebels from climbing the walls.

  "Let's attack together. Now!" another assaint ordered.

  They attacked in unison, hoping to overwhelm her. But she moved like a dancer, each step calcuted, each strike precise. She parried their attacks with ease, her swords moving in perfect harmony (Meipayattu). She flowed between them like water, her bdes finding the gaps in their defenses. One by one, they fell, their bodies hitting the ground with dull thuds.

  The st man stood before her, his hands trembling.

  "Stay away! Stay away! Don't come near me Dayan (witch). I will kill you."

  He swung his sword wildly, desperation in his eyes. She bend back making an arc watching the balde passing through her by inch and quickly regained her posture to parry the next blow and disarmed him with a flick of her right wrist, her sword cutting the tendons in his hand (Nalukal). He screamed, dropping his weapon. She ended his suffering with a swift, merciful cut across his throat (Kari) through other sword.

  Omkar, rushing up, slightly out of breath: "Princess, we've secured the area. What are your orders?"

  Meenakshi, without turning her gaze away from the battlefield, "Reinforce this section of the wall. Ensure no more breaches. We can't afford any surprises."

  Omkar nods, signaling to his group of Maratha soldiers who quickly disperse to follow her orders.

  They quikcly form a shield wall, swords in hand, facing the impending climbers. Rebels attempt to breach the line but are met with swift, lethal force. Each climber who makes it over is quickly sliced or stabbed, their bodies falling back.

  Injured comrades are swiftly picked up and carried back, their cries drowned out by the csh of steel and shouts of battle. The situation quickly settles.

  Meenakshi wipes the sweat from her brow and takes a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart. Her gaze lingers among the fallen enemies, reflecting a mix of sorrow and resolve.

  She whispers to herself as more dders along with dder towers join the fray, "I must hold strong. Too much is at stake."

  The battle was not over yet. She stood alongside her trusted comrades amidst the fallen, assuming a defensive position while holding the two swords still dripping with blood.

  As more assaints tried to breakthrough, the moonlight bathed her in its elegant glow, highlighting the deadly beauty of her dance.

  Piles upon piles of corpses lined up at her feet. She took a deep breath, calming her racing heart as she readied herself to continue the bloody ritual of Karipayattu.

  Eastern section of Wall

  Tejpal Singh stood firm on the eastern section of the wall, spear and shield in hands. His comrades formed a disciplined line, intentionally leaving gaps in their defense to lure the assaints closer.

  As the rebels emerged from the darkness and scrambled up the walls, they encountered Tejpal's soldiers standing firm in a tight formation. Shields interlocked and spears held steady, the defenders appeared almost well prepared against the daring rebels.

  A rebel leader shouted, "Push forward! Break their line!"

  The assaints, emboldened by their initial success in breaching the walls, rushed forward, thinking victory was within their grasp.

  They started hacking and stabbing on the tight shield formation waiting for any gaps to exploit.

  "Save your strength! Let them gather and come in close," Tejpal commanded in a controlled voice.

  He and his unit waited patiently, allowing the rebels to gather closer, unaware of the trap that awaited them.

  "NOW!"

  With a sudden command from Tejpal, the defenders sprung into action. Spears thrust forward in unison, impaling the unsuspecting rebels. The force of the attack was swift and brutal, catching the assaints off guard.

  Bodies were skewered on spears, their lifeless forms thrown off the walls without hesitation. The chaos of battle enveloped the scene, illuminated by the flickering torchlight and the occasional moonbeam.

  Tejpal fought with determination, his eyes fixed on the ongoing skirmish. He directed his comrades with precision, ensuring each movement was calcuted and efficient.

  He pointed stretching his right hand wielding spear, "Watch your Right! Reinforce that fnk!"

  The cng of metal, the shouts of men, and the occasional cry of pain echoed across the fort's walls as the defenders repelled wave after wave of attackers.

  He bellowed, "Keep them at bay! Hold the line!"

  The rebels, now faced with the unyielding defense and unwavering resolve of Tejpal Singh and his comrades, began to falter. Some directly jumped off, while others pressed on stubbornly, desperate to gain a foothold within that section.

  Tejpal stabbed a poor soul and kicked him of the wall, "Show them no mercy! For Glory!"

  The battle raged on into the night, each cnk of swords and thrust of spear reinforcing the defenders' determination. Amidst the chaos of combat, Tejpal Singh's leadership shone bright, guiding his men through the troubled times with courage and tactical prowess.

  Western section of Wall

  Diego found it easy to coordinate from within the inner walls, working with other forces to operate the catapults. His only regret was that his gunpowder couldn't be used for cannons, yet he didn't let that hinder his dispy of superior military tactics in safeguarding his position.

  Moving from pce to pce, he kept a frequent watch on the western side of the wall, where his main force, under the seasoned Portuguese officer Captain Pedro Costa, was performing exceptionally well.

  In the western section, Pedro barked orders, "Form ranks! Pikemen to the front, musketeers behind! Hold the line and prevent any breaches!"

  Soldiers responded swiftly, pikemen creating a bristling barrier with long spears, while musketeers positioned just behind them, their muskets loaded and ready. The distinct clink of metal filled the air as they locked into formation.

  The enemy surged forward with dder towers against the stone walls and battering rams against the gates.

  Pedro watched patiently, awaiting the opportune moment. "Steady... steady... FIRE!"

  A volley of musket fire erupted, the roar of gunpowder echoing through the air. The attackers in the front ranks fell under the relentless barrage, tumbling from the dders. The pikemen held their ground, thrusting long spears forward to repel any climbers.

  Another wave of attackers ascended multiple dders, unfazed by the ongoing carnage. As they reached the wall's edge, they faced the resolute Portuguese pikemen, who thrust their pikes with deadly accuracy, impaling the attackers and hurling them back down.

  They even shot at those pushing battering rams, forcing them to retreat as bullets pierced through their defenses.

  "Reload!" Pedro commanded. The musketeers, having fired their initial volley, swiftly reloaded. The attackers, seeing an opening, surged forward again. But the Portuguese were ready. "Fire at will!"

  The musketeers fired in staggered volleys, creating a continuous hail of lead. The attackers were caught in a deadly crossfire, their numbers thinning with each passing second.

  Allies from the Garhwal kingdom, amazed by the effectiveness, began to adopt simir formations with spears and arrows to achieve comparable results.

  A desperate enemy commander rallied his men to bring forth the battering ram, urging them onward. But Pedro saw his opportunity. "Musketeers, aim... Fire... Reload!"

  The musketeers fired with pinpoint accuracy, their relentless barrage shattering the attackers' resolve. Faced with overwhelming firepower, the attackers began to retreat, abandoning the battering rams.

  Some changed course upon witnessing the retreat, while others, unaware, continued their assault.

  Like the legends before them, the allied forces from diverse kingdoms united under the capable leadership of the Rewari kingdom, staunchly repelling the relentless assault along their stretch of the wall with unparalleled bravery.

  Waves of attackers surged forward like moths drawn to fmes, their numbers seemingly endless.

  Yet, they found themselves thwarted time and again by the unwavering resolve of the defenders.

  The defenders continued their relentless assault from above. Hot oil cascaded down, torches hurled and abze, igniting the climbers. Fiery stones and arrows rained down, wreaking havoc among the ascending assaints.

  Those who scaled the wall encountered a lethal dance of spears and swords, their bodies adding to the growing pile of corpses at the wall's edge, tumbling into the moat below.

  Despite their determination, the attackers could not break through the steadfast defense of the defenders, who held their ground with grim resolve.

  These brave warriors stood firm, sacrificing their lives to stem the tide of rebels. Amidst the chaos of battle, the csh of steel, the roar of muskets, and the cries of men echoed across the battlefield.

  With dawn breaking, the first rays of sunlight bathed the fort's walls, casting a solemn light on the aftermath of conflict. The retreat horn sounded, piercing the morning air and triggering panic among the attackers.

  They fled in disarray, leaving behind a grim testament to the fierce resistance they encountered.

  The battlefield, strewn with fallen comrades and adversaries alike, bore witness to the defenders' unyielding courage in the face of overwhelming odds.

  As the defending soldiers raised triumphant cheers at the sight of their enemies in retreat, their leaders remained vigint, though exhausted. They knew all too well that the battle, though won for now, signaled only a brief time for relief, as the fight is not over yet and there is more yet to come