Empire of India: Rise of the Ruthless Prince

It was a fine day with fluffy white clouds cascading through the blue sky. The sun light filtered through the thick canopy of the tall trees, shining off the armor of Aadarsh Chauhan, the regent and the crown prince of the Maratha kingdom.

He was riding his horse and moving along with a contingent of guards. Aadarsh was heading towards a location near the borders of the Marathas and the Mughals. He got a letter with an official seal from the Mughal Empire to negotiate for a temporary ceasefire.

This happened almost every time due to the wars mostly ending with no clear victor. This time was the same despite the interference of the Qutb and Portuguese. They weren't able to do any significant damage to the presence of a single commander, Vasant Pawar.

Vasant Pawar's might and ability to handle multiple different types of fights were proved in this war. He was the best candidate for the next royal commander of the Maratha army. Aadarsh was very impressed that the man hadn't lost a single battle and managed to even snatch new territories for the Marathas.

Aadarsh was handling his emotions and heading to the location for the ceasefire. He had no choice but to agree to a ceasefire. The kingdom needs to recoup their losses in the war. They had significant damage to the Mughal army. The loss of Askar was a significant blow to the Mughal army.

'Will the Emperor come to negotiate?'

He thought.

He was pretty skeptical about going to the location. Aadarsh didn't trust the Mughals but he trusted his own ability. He brought an army with him stationed close to the location. In the event of any mishaps, a single firework would be enough to notify them. All the guards in the contingent had a firework in their arsenal.

It would be used to signal the army in the event of any mishap or ambush by the Mughals. It would take roughly 3 minutes for the army to reach from the stationed location to the meeting location.

He reached the location. It was quite a large tent propped up in the middle of a small open field without any tree cover. Mughals soldiers stood guard while gripping their weapons tightly; they seemed alert and ready to battle at the moment's notice.

Aadarsh scanned around the field. There were numbers similar to his guard contingent and their scouts didn't notice any hiding soldiers. The uncertainty still persisted but he was somewhat sure they came to negotiate for the ceasefire rather than to fight.

'I wonder who came to negotiate the ceasefire.'

He thought with a clenched fist.

This war cost him some of the most important people in his life. Some of the old commanders that trained him in the past, Baldev, who was his mentor for most of his teenage years and his father, the man he looked up to and admired the most.

He sighed deeply as he walked towards the solitary tent, his guards following closely with their hands on the hilt of their sword, ready to strike down anyone that shows hostile behavior. Aadarsh himself had his right hand on the hilt as he walked towards the tent and confronted a nervous Mughal soldier.

"Is the person inside?" He asked, glaring at him coldly. The Mughal soldier was shivering and scared like a puppy in his imposing presence.

"Ye-yes," stuttered the soldier, averting their gaze from him.

Aadarsh once again looked around for threats and gestured at the guard captain to look out for any threats. They moved and took their place, alert and scanning the surroundings while gripping their weapons.

He entered the tent.

Contrary to the large appearance of the tent, the interior was pretty empty, with a single bed on the hard, dusty ground. A trunk opens with a set of messy, luxurious silk clothes peeking out.

A wooden table was propped up in the middle with two wooden chairs with no cushions. It was hardwood chairs. The canvas of the tent occasionally fluttered under the gentle breeze.

On one of the chairs sat a bronze-skinned man, his legs on the chair as he leaned back on the chair and read a book. He was wearing luxurious silk clothes. The man sported a purple tunic, showing his chest muscles underneath. His long hair was tied back elegantly into a low ponytail. His eyes were like emeralds, and his features were handsome.

Despite his relaxed posture, he gave off an air of strength and dominance.

His eyes glanced at his entrance briefly before getting up with a smile. He was an imposing figure, even taller than him. Aadarsh scanned him up and down; he didn't have any weapons on him but he exuded the aura of an experienced battle-hardened soldier.

'Who is this? Did the Mughals have such a man before?'

He thought.

"Hello! My name is Hasan! I have been given charge to take care of the ceasefire agreement on the special decree from His Excellency Nur-ud-din Mohammed Farrukh."

Hasan extended his hand with a smile.

Aadarsh looked at his hand and didn't shake him. Uncomfortably, Hasan withdrew his hand.

"I am the Regent of the Maratha kingdom, Aadarsh Chauhan."

'His eyes are not smiling!'

He thought.

'He is also strong.'

Aadarsh took a seat in the other chair. He folded his arms and waited for Hasan to begin.

He couldn't help but be alert in Hasan's presence. His instincts were screaming out in danger. One wrong move and his head could roll on the ground. The fact that he didn't have any weapons could only mean one of the two things. He was a fool that he was strong enough to defeat him without any weapons.

Aadarsh's instincts told him it was the latter.

Hasan's eyes scanned him with a curious grin. He always thought that the king of the Marathas was the strongest in the kingdom since he was always toe-to-toe with Askar. It changed after meeting Aadarsh.

This man would easily kill Askar.

'He would certainly pose a bit of problem for me as well.'

He thought.

Hasan smiled.

"Let's begin"