November 23rd, 1655
The city of Makran, the southeastern part of the Safavid Empire, on the Gulf of Oman.
The city of Makran, which was clouded by darkness, had been lit up with various fire lamps in every corner of the street. In this city, which encompasses both light and dark, a battle has been going on between two forces for the last 30 minutes.
"Bang"
A man dressed in the tribal attire of the Mengal tribe had been shot in the chest and soon dropped down. Although he was still groaning in pain and covering his wound caused by the gunshot, it could be presumed that he would most probably be bleeding to death.
Since the medical technology of this era is not so advanced, even if the bullet is pulled out, the man most probably would not survive without administering some antiseptic medicine, as the infection would kill him in a more painful way. So, in retrospect, bleeding to death may actually be less painful.
As for the bullet, it had come from an intricate corner of a mud house, fired by the Bharatiya Marine with a Brown Bess musket.
The Bharatiya Marines had already gotten acclimatized to the surroundings and were starting to pick out one tribal soldier after another, taking out one enemy at a time. Sarvesh, after assigning a battalion the task of guarding the trade route to the Safavid Empire, had brought the 3,200 marines into the city in order to create chaos.
*Ahh!*
A man was cleanly cut diagonally at the neck, causing his head to slide slowly to the side and fall on the ground with a thud. A fountain of blood erupted from the severed neck, propelled by the continued pumping of the heart, though the brain, unfortunately, was no longer there to receive it.
The person who wielded this blade was none other than the Sword Demon and headhunter Sarvesh. After chopping off the head, he wiped the sword with a cloth he had with him and then slung the talwar on his back again, looking for the next target.
Even though it was night, Sarvesh, seeing that there were no city walls or fortifications on the northeast, felt it would be a waste to let this opportunity slip by. Hence, he wasted no time in launching an attack despite it being nighttime.
Surprisingly, the night, made it a lot more advantageous for them to attack the city, as they were more coordinated than the enemy tribal warriors, and they could use the night to their advantage, creating a more chaotic situation for the obviously untrained Mengal warriors.
Although the Marines were unaware of the terrain, and the Mengal warriors still had the advantage of being more familiar with it, the highly equipped Marines of the Dakshin Bharatiya Empire, who were the most elite force of the empire’s military, were just too much for the tribal forces of the Mengals.
Over the past 40 minutes, like a well-oiled machine, the Marines cooperated and coordinated their strategies on the fly, moving cleanly from one target to another, swiftly running between the buildings like veteran assassins, sweeping the area of any armed personnel on the go.
This night for the Mengal tribe was like the whip of Yama, slowly strangling their throats one by one without them even realizing. Even before reinforcements were sent, most of the tribal warriors patrolling the outer area of the city were either disarmed and demobilized or killed directly, depending on the situation they had encoutered the Marines.
The reason for not directly killing all the tribal warriors was because of how these tribal warriors fought. These tribal people fought with bravery and determination, and even if they died, they died with honour protecting their motherland. Hence, if the situation was favourable, these tribal warriors were not killed but were disarmed.
After dislocating a few of their bones, ensuring that they would no longer be able to fight for at least a few months, the Marines moved on to the next target.
If Vijay had known about how the battle was fought, he might have been moved to tears. Although the Mengals belonged to the same faith as the ones he had seen in the 21st century, they fought nothing alike.
The Mengals were actually true soldiers, while the people who claimed to be their compatriots were cowards and scum who actually used civilians and children as meat shields in order to fulfil their purpose. Overall, The followers of Islam of the subcontinent in this day and age would not stoop so low as the scum in the future.
Coming back to the Marines, if Vijay were to rank the strength of Sarvesh and his brigade, they would be no weaker than the Swedish Caroleans in terms of individual combat ability and effectiveness.
That is saying a lot, as Caroleans in this day and age are one of the most elite military forces in the world, under the command of the Swedish Emperor Charles X Gustav, constantly engaged in battle with European nations, and continuously improving their combat effectiveness by implementing newer and revolutionary tactics.
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Back to the battle, Sarvesh, who was running around the urban battlefield harvesting souls like a freaking necromancer, suddenly felt something as he ordered his men to halt their operations through hand gestures, making a fist and raising it up.
The nearest marine who saw this signal passed the same command to everyone he could contact, and in a matter of a few minutes, this signal passed throughout the chain of Marines, and everyone came to a standstill.
Sarvesh’s eyes narrowed as he felt the ground rumble slightly, indicating a large group of people marching towards them. He wore a serious expression, doubting that such an accomplishment could be attributed to the Mengal tribe.
"Be careful, it may be the Safavid army," Sarvesh warned with his gestures, recalling the multiple Safavid soldiers they had encountered on their way to the city.
The Marines heeded their commander’s cautious words and swiftly deployed to various points in the northeastern part of the city, with the darkness enveloping them in their quest for stealth.
Before the battles started, Sarvesh wasn’t actually attempting to Infiltrate the city stealthily, as he knew that the task was already impossible. On the contrary, the only thing he wanted to do was cause as much chaos inside the city as possible so that he could provide an opening for the regular army and the Navy to act.
With this clear goal in mind, he readily acted towards it, and it was even working out as he planned; his task was going very smoothly.
Even after hearing the bells ringing moments ago, instead of being worried, Sarvesh was relieved after he confirmed that the enemy knew their presence, as well as getting ready for a hearty battle. "The reinforcements should be coming anytime soon," he thought, but it was just unexpected for Sarvesh for these Safavid soldiers to turn up instead of the Mengal warriors.
So knowing that this battle was going to be tricky, Sarvesh chose to hide in a tall tree that was only 100 meters away from him. Normally, this tree would be very hard to climb for an average person, but fortunately, Sarvesh was anything but average.
He had experience adapting to all sorts of terrain when he was young, so climbing this tree, which was more than 15 meters tall, was not a big deal for him.
At a distance of 100 or 150 meters, Sarvesh could see two distinct armies marching towards them, and by their number, it could be no less than two brigades.
Seeing this scene, Sarvesh was doubtful as his brows furrowed. If these Safavid forces had so much strength, why didn’t they take the city of Makran directly?
Unfortunately, Sarvesh, although aware that the Safavid forces had come to the city seeking support from its leaders for their interests in the Safavid Empire, did not know the number of troops the representatives from Safavid had brought to Makran City or the complexities between the five noble families and the two factions.
He also did not realize that the Safavid Empire was on the verge of a civil war.
Even though the force of the Safavid Empire present today would be theoretically enough to conquer the city of Makran, it was actually an impossible task. If any faction showed the intention of conquering the city by force, the other faction would not allow it.
Even if both factions somehow managed to come to terms and join forces to fight for the city, the distribution of profits would again become a crucial point of contention, and the sharing of interests is not an option for the feuding factions.
Hence, a peaceful diplomatic channel was sought to pull the city of Makran, which had always been a buffer zone between the Safavid Empire and the Mughal Empire, to their side to bolster the reputation of the succeeding faction. If Sarvesh had known this, he would not have been doubtful.
But since he did not, he remained wary of this army, in which, out of 8,000 people, he could see 1,000 actually carrying guns. Although these guns were not as advanced as theirs, as they were no different from the first-generation muskets of their own empire, they posed a large threat to the Marines nonetheless.
Sarvesh was constantly thinking of various ways to solve the problem in front of him, his face in absolute seriousness and his eyes flickering with a hint of maliciousness. Suddenly, he had an idea.
100 meters away...
"Hey Safar Beg Takkalu, don’t get in my way when the battle starts. Incompetent and useless people like you are not needed in the battle, so run back to your family and honestly accept defeat, like the coward that you are," Hussain Qolie Shamlu said with a disdainful expression on his face.
Safar, who heard the ridicule from the half-breed Qizilbash bastard, quickly became furious. His hand was on the hilt of his sword, and he was almost about to pull it out, but suddenly his hand was stopped by Ahmed Khan Afshar, a member of the Afshar family and an ally of the Shamlu family within the Qizilbash faction. Ahmed Khan shook his head to stop Safar.
However, he couldn’t just let the comment made by the Qizilbash faction slide like that. In order to shut Hussain Qolie Shamlu up, he responded to the ridicule and disdainful words with a hint of sarcasm of his own, "Your Excellency Takkalu, have you heard the saying ’a barking dog doesn’t bite’? So why are you barking so much when you have not even killed a man?
Are you the kind to prove this saying right? Oh, how generous of you, ho ho ho."
Ahmed Khan had a thankful smile on his face, his expression reading, ’Thank you for your stupidity.’
This expression made Safar very angry. "How dare you call me a dog, you half-breed lowly scum!" he roared, startling a few men around him with his scream.
"Why don’t I dare, you Western half-blood, whose ancestors were defiled by the Greeks?" Ahmed Khan hit back with the same smile on his face, which made the opposing Western Safavid faction even more furious.
"Bang."
Fortunately, before this Sharad could go on any longer and escalate further to a full-on brawl, they heard multiple gunshots coming from two different directions. These gunshots made the spoiled representatives from various noble families come to their senses, suddenly remembering their mission, which they had almost forgotten between their quarrels.
The nobles of the Western Safavid faction and the Qizilbash faction came to terms that both their armies would deal with the enemies in the different directions they had heard. The winner of this small battle would be the one who actually took the head of the enemy’s leader. Additionally, the victor would gain the loyalty of the Mengel tribe.
Coming to this rare agreement, both parties split apart.
"Murad, where do you think these tribals got all their guns from?" Ahmed Khan asked the representative from the Ustajlu family, Murad Khan Ustajlu.
Murad thought for a while and answered, "I don’t know how these tribals from Baluchistan could acquire weapons, as even the Mughal nobles do not care about them, and they do not provide any support since it is a very barren land. So I think these gunshots we are hearing now are from our own rifles stolen from the guards we have left patrolling the trade route outside the city."
Hearing this conversation, Hossein Qoli Beg Shamlu nodded his head in understanding and replied, "Well, that makes sense. Otherwise, where else could these poor savages get firearms, which only countries like ours have?"
But Ahmed Khan, who had asked the question, was still doubtful about the validity of the answer. However, thinking that no other explanation was possible, he agreed to the answer and moved forward in order to meet the enemy.