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Reborn As Crown Prince In India

In 2043, Earth is falling apart due to pollution. A scientist named Arjun creates a new energy technology, but a nuclear explosion sends him back in time to 1569. Reborn as Siddharth Pala Gupta, he has to use his future knowledge to protect his royal family and kingdom from danger. also on royal road by posted by alpa

alpa_ · Histoire
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63 Chs

To Bahlikiwara

Time Stamp: Vikram Era: 10 Phalguna 1636 (March 1579)

Siddharth and Vaniika sat huddled together under thick woolen blankets in the carriage as it creaked and jolted along the rocky path. The journey to Bahlikiwara had taken them to the extreme north, deep into the unforgiving terrain of the highest mountains. The pass they now faced was the last and most challenging obstacle on their route.

The climate here was harsher than anything they had encountered. The cold was bone-chilling, even within the insulated confines of their carriage. Outside, the world was a frozen landscape of snow-covered peaks and icy cliffs. The air was thin and crisp, making every breath feel sharp and refreshing yet challenging. The sky above was a brilliant blue, starkly contrasting with the white expanse of the mountains.

"The mountains here are unlike any we've seen before," Siddharth remarked, his breath visible in the cold air.

"Yes," Vaniika agreed, pulling the blanket tighter around them. "The northern ranges are some of the most challenging terrain in our empire. But they also hold incredible beauty and significance."

The journey through the pass was slow and arduous. The road was treacherous, with steep inclines and narrow ledges that required the utmost skill from their experienced drivers. The horses, specially bred for such terrain, moved cautiously, their hooves crunching in the snow.

The carriage swayed with each turn, the wheels sometimes slipping on the icy ground. Occasionally, they would stop to allow the horses to rest and to check the stability of their path. During these breaks, they would step out to stretch their legs, careful to stay close to the warmth of the carriage.

The local guides, hardy men accustomed to these conditions, provided invaluable assistance. They pointed out landmarks and shared tales of the pass, speaking of ancient traders and warriors who had braved these same paths. Their stories added a layer of mystique to the journey, making Siddharth feel like he was part of a long tradition of explorers.

"The air is so clear here," Siddharth said, looking up at the sky. "You can see for miles."

"It's one of the wonders of the high mountains," Vaniika replied. "The clarity of the air makes everything seem closer, yet more remote at the same time."

As they ascended higher, the temperature dropped further. The wind picked up, howling through the narrow valleys and whipping up flurries of snow. The path became more treacherous, with sharp turns and steep drops that made even the experienced guides wary.

Despite the harsh conditions, there was a stark beauty to the landscape. The snow-covered peaks glistened in the sunlight, and the silence of the mountains was profound, broken only by the occasional call of a distant bird or the crunch of snow underfoot.

Siddharth and Vaniika marveled at the sheer scale of the mountains. They felt both humbled and invigorated by the majesty of their surroundings. The journey was a test of endurance, but it was also a journey of discovery, revealing the raw, untamed beauty of the northern ranges.

As the day wore on, the shadows grew longer, and the temperature continued to drop. The guides urged them to press on, knowing that nightfall would bring even colder temperatures and the risk of getting caught in a snowstorm.

"We must reach the next shelter before dark," one of the guides said. "The weather can change quickly here, and it's too dangerous to be caught out in the open."

With renewed determination, they continued their journey, the path growing ever steeper and more challenging. Siddharth and Vaniika clung to each other for warmth and support, their spirits buoyed by the knowledge that each step brought them closer to Bahlikiwara.

As twilight descended, they finally saw the outline of a small shelter nestled against the mountainside. The guides quickened their pace, eager to reach the safety and warmth of the shelter before nightfall.

Inside, they found a simple but sturdy refuge, stocked with firewood and provisions. The guides quickly set about lighting a fire, and soon the small room was filled with the comforting warmth and glow of the flames.

Siddharth and Vaniika settled in for the night, grateful for the respite from the cold. They shared a simple meal with the guides, listening to more tales of the mountains and the people who called them home.

As they drifted off to sleep, the howling wind outside a reminder of the harsh world beyond their shelter, they felt a deep sense of accomplishment.

Time Stamp: Vikram Era: 20 Phalguna 1636 (March 1579)

Siddharth's eyes widened with awe as the massive walls of Bahlikiwara came into view. The fortress city, with its imposing 100-foot-high walls, stretched as far as the eye could see. The sheer scale of the city was overwhelming, and Siddharth couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder and curiosity about what lay within.

As their carriage approached the main gate, the intricate details of the city's architecture became apparent. The walls were made of massive stone blocks, each etched with symbols and designs that hinted at the city's ancient and storied past. The gate itself was a marvel of engineering, with heavy iron doors that looked impenetrable, adorned with intricate carvings of mythical creatures and battle scenes from a time long forgotten.

"Welcome to Bahlikiwara," Vaniika said, her voice filled with a mix of pride and excitement. "This city was once a bustling metropolis, housing millions. Now, it stands as a testament to our ancestors' ingenuity and resilience."

Siddharth nodded, still captivated by the sight before him. As they passed through the gate, the inside of the city revealed itself. Wide streets, lined with abandoned buildings, stretched out in every direction. The structures, though in varying states of decay, hinted at the grandeur that Bahlikiwara once held. The city was a blend of imposing fortifications and intricate, almost artistic, architecture.

"Most of the city is abandoned now," Vaniika explained. "Only a small garrison force and a few thousand civilians live here. The rest is a relic of a time long past."

The carriage trundled along the main thoroughfare, passing by towering structures and crumbling facades. The sense of abandonment was palpable, yet there was an undeniable beauty in the decay. Vines and moss had begun to reclaim some of the buildings, adding a touch of nature's green to the otherwise gray and brown landscape.

The air was crisp and cold, a reminder of their altitude and the harsh climate of the region. Snow-capped peaks loomed in the distance, their jagged silhouettes cutting into the sky. The streets were eerily quiet, save for the occasional creak of ancient doors swaying in the wind.

In the distance, Siddharth spotted what looked like a monorail track, suspended high above the ground. The track twisted and turned, disappearing into the mist that hung over parts of the city. The monorail cars, though rusted and worn, still clung to the tracks, a testament to the city's once-advanced technology.

"What is that?" Siddharth asked, pointing to the monorail.

"That's one of the marvels of Bahlikiwara," Vaniika replied. "A minecartl system that used to transport people and goods across the city. It's powered by a very specific type of oil found in this region. Unfortunately, much of the technology and manufacturing techniques have been lost over time. What remains is repaired using scavenged parts."

Siddharth's mind raced with questions. How did such a city come to be? What had caused its decline? And what secrets did it still hold?

As they continued their journey through the city, they passed by various landmarks. There was a massive marketplace, now empty and silent, where merchants once sold their wares. The stalls, though deserted, still bore signs of their former prosperity—faded banners, ornate awnings, and the remnants of colorful murals depicting scenes of bustling trade and commerce.

The grand amphitheater, its stone seats weathered by time, stood as a reminder of the city's cultural heritage. Siddharth could almost hear the echoes of performances and public gatherings that once filled the space with life. The amphitheater's arches and columns, though crumbling, still held an air of majesty and grace.

Towering above it all was the citadel, the heart of Bahlikiwara, where the garrison and the city's remaining inhabitants resided. The citadel was a fortress within a fortress, its walls even taller and more imposing than those of the outer city. Guards in uniform stood watch at the entrance, their presence a stark contrast to the emptiness of the city beyond.

Time Stamp: Vikram Era: 21 Phalguna 1636 (March 1579)

As the first light of dawn crept over the towering walls of Bahlikiwara, Siddharth and Vaniika prepared to meet the city's commander. They were led through the citadel by a guard, the morning mist lending an ethereal quality to the ancient stone corridors.

The commander's quarters were located in the heart of the citadel, a place of both strategic importance and historic significance. As they entered, they were greeted by Commander Vidhyadhara, a tall, imposing figure with a grizzled beard and piercing eyes that spoke of countless battles fought and won.

"Welcome to Bahlikiwara," Commander Vidhyadhara said, bowing respectfully. "It is an honor to have you here, Prince Siddharth and Vaniika."

"Thank you, Commander," Siddharth replied, returning the bow. "We are eager to learn about the history and importance of this magnificent city."

The commander gestured for them to sit at a large wooden table, upon which lay an ancient map of the region. The map depicted the intricate network of mountains, valleys, and passes that defined the northern borders of Bharatavarsha.

"Bahlikiwara has stood as a sentinel of our land for centuries," Commander Vidhyadhara began, tracing a finger along the map. "Its strategic location at the foot of the Himalayas makes it the only viable passage between Bharatavarsha and the lands beyond. As such, it has always been of paramount importance to the Lohara Kingdom and to the entire subcontinent."

He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. "The Lohara Kingdom has been entrusted with the protection of Bahlikiwara for generations. Our ancestors built this fortress city to safeguard our people from invasions and to control the flow of trade and culture between the East and the West."

Siddharth listened intently, captivated by the commander's tale. The map before him came alive with the history and significance of Bahlikiwara, its mountains and passes echoing with the footsteps of countless warriors and travelers.

"During times of war, Bahlikiwara has served as an impenetrable barrier against invaders," Vidhyadhara continued. "The city has withstood numerous sieges, its walls never breached. This fortress is not just a defensive structure; it is a symbol of our resilience and determination."

The commander stood and walked to a large window overlooking the city. "Look out there," he said, pointing to the abandoned sections of Bahlikiwara. "These buildings once housed millions of people, traders, scholars, and soldiers. This city was a hub of activity, a melting pot of cultures and ideas."

Siddharth moved to the window, gazing out at the sprawling city below. The sight of the empty streets and crumbling structures filled him with a sense of both sadness and admiration. He could almost see the bustling life that once animated this place.

"Why did the city fall into decline?" Siddharth asked, turning to the commander.

"The exact reason remains a mystery," Vidhyadhara explained. "The leading theory is that a plague wiped out a large portion of the population. The city was abandoned for many years before our predecessors from the Lohara Kingdom found it and began to resettle it. The present population is all new settlers."

Vaniika, who had been quietly listening, spoke up. "Commander, what efforts are being made to preserve the knowledge and technology that built this city?"

Commander Vidhyadhara smiled, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. "We are working tirelessly to recover and preserve what we can. The garrison here, along with scholars and engineers, are dedicated to maintaining the infrastructure and learning from the past. It is a daunting task, but we are making progress."

He turned back to Siddharth and Vaniika, his expression serious. "The importance of Bahlikiwara cannot be overstated. It is a linchpin in the defense of our land. Should this fortress fall, the entire subcontinent would be at risk. That is why we must remain vigilant and ensure that the legacy of this city is not forgotten."

As the conversation continued, Siddharth felt a profound sense of responsibility. The stories of Bahlikiwara's past and the dedication of those who protected it inspired him. This city was more than just a relic of history; it was a living testament to the strength and resilience of his people.

As night fell, Commander Vidhyadhara concluded the meeting. "We will have more to show you tomorrow," he said. "For now, you should rest. The journey must have been exhausting."

Siddharth and Vaniika were led to their temporary quarters just outside the citadel. The quarters were modest but comfortable, providing a respite from the day's adventures. As they settled in, Siddharth's mind raced with thoughts of the city and its mysteries.

Siddharth and Vaniika chatted about their impressions of Bahlikiwara, the city's grandeur, and the stories they had heard. The night was cold, but the warmth of their conversation made it bearable.

As they were talking, there was a sudden, loud crash. A crane, used for moving heavy supplies, had malfunctioned, and a large piece of equipment plummeted toward them. Before Siddharth could react, the heavy object struck him on the head, and everything went black.

The last thing Siddharth heard was Vaniika's voice, filled with panic and distress. "Siddharth! No!" she cried, her voice breaking with emotion. He felt her arms around him, trying to comfort him, but her words became a distant murmur as he slipped into unconsciousness.

In the darkness, Siddharth's mind drifted, filled with fragmented images and sounds. He could hear Vaniika sobbing, her words barely reaching him. "Please, someone help!" she pleaded, her voice echoing in the void.