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The Rise of Maratha Empire : The Akhand Bharat

In the year 2024, an ordinary Maratha man from modern India finds himself mysteriously transported back to 1689, moments before one of the most pivotal events in Indian history—the execution of Sambhaji Maharaj, the warrior-king of the Maratha Empire. Armed with a mysterious technology system that offers him rewards and knowledge based on the points he earns, the protagonist is thrust into a dangerous mission: to save Sambhaji Raje from execution by Aurangzeb’s forces and prevent the fall of the Maratha Empire. However, the protagonist is no seasoned warrior—he is timid, cautious, and completely out of place in this violent era. Through gradual technological advancements, military strategy learned through gaming, and deep respect for Sambhaji Maharaj, he must navigate the treacherous political landscape, using his modern understanding of economics, strategy, and guerilla warfare to support the Maratha Empire. Over the course of his journey, he uncovers the betrayal that led to Sambhaji's capture, faces the might of Aurangzeb’s empire, and helps Sambhaji reclaim his throne while planning for the long-term goal of creating Akhand Bharat—a unified India. Together, they plot for freedom, but can history be rewritten, or will the legacy of the lion be cut short once more?

lavanasur · Sejarah
Peringkat tidak cukup
69 Chs

Chapter 9: Into the Heart of Danger

The sky darkened as they continued their trek through the hills. The once clear path had turned rugged, the thick undergrowth pulling at their feet as they climbed deeper into the wild terrain. The forest seemed to close in on them as they ventured further from civilization, and the air grew colder, more hostile. The hills surrounding Raigad Fort were notorious for their treacherous terrain, and the MC could feel every uneven rock and sharp branch digging into his body.

Sambhaji Raje, though visibly struggling, never once complained. The exhaustion in his face was palpable, but his resolve remained unbroken. This was his land, his fight, and despite the toll that his imprisonment had taken on his body, the fire inside him had not dimmed. He moved with purpose, as if drawn by an invisible force toward Raigad.

The MC followed close behind, constantly checking the system's map. Red dots were still scattered in the distance, representing Mughal search parties. They weren't near yet, but their presence weighed heavily on his mind. Time was running out, and soon, the Mughals would expand their patrols into the very hills they were hiding in.

"We're getting closer," the MC said quietly, his eyes scanning the map for potential threats. "Raigad is just beyond the next ridge. We'll need to find a place to hide before we make contact with Santaji and Dhanaji."

Sambhaji nodded but didn't speak. His focus was entirely on reaching the fort. For him, Raigad was more than just a place—it was home. It was where his father had built an empire, where Sambhaji himself had been crowned king. Returning to Raigad was like reclaiming a piece of his identity.

As they approached the final ridge, the MC crouched low, gesturing for Sambhaji to do the same. The path ahead opened into a narrow valley, and in the distance, the shadow of Raigad Fort loomed over the landscape. It was a magnificent sight—rugged stone walls perched atop a steep cliff, its height alone providing a natural defense against enemies.

But as awe-inspiring as the fort was, it wasn't the only thing the MC saw. He narrowed his eyes at the sight of Mughal patrols scattered throughout the valley below, their silver armor gleaming faintly in the twilight. They were few, but their presence made one thing clear: the Mughals hadn't given up on finding Sambhaji. Even here, in the heart of Maratha territory, they were still searching.

The MC's heart sank. "They're already here," he whispered, his voice tense with worry. "The Mughals have patrols in the valley."

Sambhaji's jaw clenched. "Aurangzeb's reach is long. He wants to control everything, even Raigad."

The MC's mind raced, calculating their next steps. They couldn't afford a direct confrontation with the Mughal patrols—not yet. They were too weak, too few in number. If the Mughals spotted them now, it would be over before they even had a chance to rebuild their forces.

"We'll need to move quietly," the MC said, his eyes still scanning the map. "We'll find a way around the patrols and get closer to the fort. There has to be a hidden path or an old trail that's been forgotten."

Sambhaji nodded, his expression unreadable. "My father knew every inch of these hills," he said quietly. "There are paths, old trader routes, that the Mughals will not know of. If we find them, we can avoid the patrols."

The MC nodded. The system map didn't show everything—it was limited in its knowledge of the terrain. But if Sambhaji remembered the hidden routes, they might just have a chance.

They descended the ridge carefully, keeping to the shadows of the trees. Every step felt like walking a tightrope, the weight of potential discovery hanging over them. The Mughals weren't far, and their torches flickered in the valley below like small, distant fires.

As they moved deeper into the forest, the sound of approaching footsteps sent a wave of panic through the MC. His hand instinctively tightened around the hilt of the dagger he had taken from the Mughal soldier days ago. He motioned for Sambhaji to stop, and they crouched low behind a boulder, their breaths shallow.

Two Mughal soldiers emerged from the trees, their armor clinking softly in the evening air. They walked slowly, their eyes scanning the area, searching for any sign of intruders.

The MC's heart pounded in his chest. They couldn't afford a fight, not here. Even if they managed to take out these two soldiers, the sound of the struggle would attract the rest of the patrol. He had to think fast.

He glanced around, his eyes falling on a pile of rocks perched precariously on a nearby slope. It was risky, but if he could dislodge them, it might create enough of a distraction for the soldiers to investigate elsewhere.

"Stay here," he whispered to Sambhaji, his voice barely audible.

Crouching low, he moved toward the pile of rocks, careful not to make any noise. His hands trembled slightly as he reached the top, where a large stone was wedged between two others. He glanced back at the soldiers—they were still searching, oblivious to his presence.

This better work.

With a sharp push, he dislodged the stone, sending it tumbling down the slope. The sound of the falling rocks echoed through the valley, and the soldiers immediately turned toward the noise, their hands on their swords.

The MC held his breath as the soldiers moved toward the source of the sound, their attention completely diverted from where he and Sambhaji were hiding. The plan had worked—for now.

He hurried back to Sambhaji's side, motioning for him to follow. "Let's go," he whispered. "While they're distracted."

They moved quickly, slipping through the trees and away from the patrol. The path ahead was steep, the ground uneven, but they had avoided detection for now.

As they reached the foot of the cliff leading up to Raigad, the MC breathed a sigh of relief. They were closer now, but the real challenge was just beginning. The fort's entrance was still heavily guarded, and without the support of Santaji and Dhanaji, they wouldn't stand a chance of getting inside.

Sambhaji leaned heavily against the rock wall, his face pale from the exertion. He had been through so much, and yet he refused to show weakness. But the MC knew the truth—time was running out for Sambhaji. He needed rest, and he needed allies.

"We need to contact Santaji and Dhanaji," the MC said, his voice urgent. "We can't get into Raigad without their help. They'll know how to avoid the Mughals and get us inside."

Sambhaji nodded slowly. "I have men—scouts—who should still be loyal. If they are nearby, they can carry word to Santaji and Dhanaji. But we must move carefully. We cannot trust just anyone."

The MC agreed. The betrayal of Ganoji Shirke had proven that trust was a rare commodity, even among those who were once allies. But there was no other choice. They needed the support of loyal Marathas, or the fight for the throne would be over before it even began.

"Where would we find these scouts?" the MC asked, glancing at the map.

Sambhaji hesitated for a moment before answering. "There's an old temple, hidden in the hills not far from here. It was once a meeting place for my father's men. If any of the scouts remain loyal, they will be there."

The MC nodded. "Then that's where we'll go."

With the fort looming above them and Mughal patrols closing in, they began the treacherous journey toward the hidden temple, hoping that somewhere, amidst the danger, they would find the allies they desperately needed.