Empire Ascension: The Rise of the Fated One-Chapter 249: Battle of Ladakh part -7

After a while, Hidden pass, Imperial Mercenary outpost

The Hidden Pass, nestled in the snow-laden valleys of Kashmir, lay dormant under the vast expanse of the sky. The morning mist had begun to dissipate, revealing the towering mountain ranges and the untouched white terrain stretching beyond the imperial mercenary outpost.

The air was crisp, and as the clouds parted, the golden sunlight cast a brilliant glow upon the frost-covered landscape, creating an eerie sense of calm before the storm of decisions to be made.

Colonel Manish stood near the central firework under open sky, his head slightly bowed in respect, awaiting Vice General Bheem’s decision.

Bheem, who was assigned as the acting supreme commander of the current coalition army, stood with a furrowed brow as his expression hardened by contemplation.

Before him lay the reports detailing the unexpected actions of Captain Ayush—the man who had defied orders yet delivered an outcome that would be spoken of for generations.

King Dhravya observed the exchange with a subtle, amused smile, his regal presence adding weight to the moment. His royal cloak swayed gently in the light mountain breeze, but his eyes were fixated on Bheem, keenly interested in the vice general’s next move.

The air was tense as Bheem exhaled deeply, then looked at Colonel Manish once more. "So you are saying," he began, his voice steady, "that you chose to save them upon discovering their location after the explosion of enemy stockade, prioritizing rescue over the destruction of cannons?"

Colonel Manish nodded firmly. "Yes, Vice General."

Bheem’s fingers lightly tapped against the pommel of his sword as he continued, "And you wish for me to overlook his disobedience, given the undeniable impact of his actions?"

Manish remained stoic, his expression unreadable. "It is merely a humble suggestion, Vice General. His men see him as a role model. Reprimanding him too harshly could have serious repercussions."

Bheem shook his head, his decision firm. "I deny your request. The duty of the army is to follow orders, not to question them. This is not a royal court meant for politics... We are the grand army of the prince, entrusted to carry out his will. Are we not?"

Colonel Manish, for the first time, spoke softly. "Yes, Vice General."

Bheem’s stance remained resolute. "It is good you understand. Those who defy orders must be punished. His accomplishments will be noted, but he will not escape the consequences of his disobedience. The laws of the army apply to all, without exception. You may leave, Colonel."

With a crisp salute, Manish turned and exited, his steps steady and disciplined.

A chuckle escaped King Dhravya as he folded his arms. "I must say, your discipline is quite strict—even for a hero."

Bheem clicked his tongue in mild defiance. "Every action we take sets an example for others. In the absence of His Highness, I dare not gamble with his ideals."

The king found no offense in those words. Instead, he recognized the unwavering loyalty behind them. The tension that had built in the air began to dissipate, and Bheem, sensing the shift, redirected the conversation to their next course of action.

"Let’s discuss our preparations," Bheem stated, his tone shifting back to strategy. "Your Majesty, what is the status of your forces?"

King Dhravya smirked. "My men are more than ready. However, we’ll need some form of cover to infiltrate."

Bheem nodded, already formulating a plan. "Alright. Assemble your men. We will launch our second barrage of rockets. Once that is done, a small window of opportunity will open—I trust your people won’t miss it."

A gleam of excitement flashed in King Dhravya’s eyes. He relished the thought of his forces finally playing their part in this grand campaign. "Finally, a good plan."

The meeting concluded with a sense of purpose, and as the sunlight reflected off the icy peaks, casting long shadows over the outpost, the next phase of the mission was set in motion.

Zoji La Pass – Fourth Assault

The morning air, crisp with the scent of frost and gunpowder, hung heavy over the snow-laden pass. Smoke from the earlier rocket bombardment drifted across the battlefield, merging with the thick mist that veiled the white cliffs.

Atop their mountain bastion, the Ladakhis stood firm, watching as the Bhargavian army below prepared for yet another assault—the fourth one.

At General Rudra’s command, Bhargavian infantry surged forward, their boots crunching through the snow, breaths coming in ragged gasps as they pushed against the biting cold. Rows of shields gleamed under the gray light, forming a protective phalanx as they navigated the treacherous terrain.

Behind them, artillery crews manned their light 2-pounder falconet cannons, aiming at the Ladakhi fortifications towering above. These new cannons were light and highly maneuverable which was ideal for rapid deployment—but their firepower for long range siege was lacking. The elevation and natural barriers further diminished their effectiveness, making their bombardment both inaccurate and underwhelming.

The original Ladakhi and Tibetian cannons had been heavy mid-range throwers, capable of hurling boulder-like shots up to 600 meters. However, with the gifts from the Mughals, they had acquired new cannons matching a range of 1,200 meters. Strategically placed at higher elevations, these weapons packed greater punching power and deadly accuracy, contributing to the high casualties on the Bhargavian side and their growing frustration at being unable to advance.

Yet, after the initial rocket bombardment, the Ladakhi forces were presumed to be in disarray. Smoke rising from their fortifications suggested chaos, prompting the Bhargavians to gamble on one more assault.

As Bhargavian cannon fire thundered, their shots thudded into snowbanks, dented against rock faces, or skidded harmlessly off icy ground. Still, they kept firing, hoping to weaken the enemy’s defenses before the final charge.

The Ladakhi Defense

Above them, on the icy ridges and stone walls, the Ladakhi defenders watched patiently. Commander Chewang barked orders as disciplined archers took their positions along the ramparts and rock outcrops.

Unlike the Bhargavians, they lacked muskets, but their bows had a range and precision unmatched by firearms. Their arrows, guided by experience and gravity, would strike with lethal force.

Below, the Bhargavian artillery continued its assault. The 2-pounder cannons boomed, sending solid shots whistling toward the blockade fortifications, but the results were dismal. The light cannonballs either struck sheer rock, skidded off ice, or landed short, failing to break the defenses.

The terrain itself was an enemy since the deep snow, hidden trenches, and frozen ditches disrupted formations, forcing soldiers to slow their advance and adjust constantly.

"Damn these heights!" a Bhargavian artillery commander cursed as yet another cannonball bounced harmlessly off a rock face.

Yet they could not afford to stop. A pause in fire meant certain death.

Then came the Ladakhi response.

A deep, thunderous boom echoed from the mountain heights as the first Ladakhi cannon fired. Unlike their enemies, the Ladakhis possessed a handful of powerful, high-accuracy 6-pounder siege guns which were gifts from the Mughals and right now positioned strategically to maximize devastation.

The first iron ball crashed into the advancing Bhargavian ranks and cannons, tearing through shields, armor, and wood alike. Both bodies and cannons were flung into the air, limbs twisted unnaturally, while barrels shattered and overturned as soldiers screamed in agony.

Another shot followed. Then another.

Each blast sent men flying, breaking the once-orderly formations into chaos. The Ladakhi artillery, though fewer in number, wreaked havoc with pinpoint accuracy, the elevated position making every shot count.

Despite the carnage, General Rudra refused to retreat. His jaw clenched as he roared, "Advance! The cannons won’t hit us if we get closer!"

It was a miscalculation.

As the Bhargavians pressed forward, believing themselves to be closing in on safety, another hidden threat was waiting. The Ladakhis had more mid-range heavy cannons, thanks to the new ones that were arrived Tibetan reinforcements. They all were hidden along the mountainsides.

The moment the enemy moved into range, the concealed guns roared to life.

Explosions ripped through the battlefield, sending more Bhargavian soldiers sprawling into the snow. What was meant to be a desperate push forward turned into a bloodbath.

Then came the arrows.

From the elevated heights on both sides of the pass, Ladakhi archers unleashed their first barrage as they settled into superior vantage points.

The whistling sound filled the air before dozens of Bhargavian soldiers collapsed, their bodies pierced through fur-lined coats and armor. Arrows found their marks with terrifying precision—slipping into throats, eyes, and the weak joints of armor. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝒆𝒘𝙚𝓫𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

The Bhargavians quickly raised their shields, forming a tight tortoise-shell formation. But even this was not enough.

The archers did not fire wildly. They aimed for the smallest gaps—for exposed faces, for moving joints where protection was weakest. The elevation gave them a clear advantage, allowing them to pick off officers, artillery crews, and soldiers struggling to reform their lines.

A Bhargavian captain staggered, an arrow lodged deep in his windpipe, choking on blood as he collapsed into the snow. Around him, the once-white terrain was now painted red.

Yet, despite the losses, the Bhargavians pushed forward, nearing the first layer of defenses—wooden palisades reinforced with stone.

That was when the final trap was sprung.

As the front lines reached the barricades, a series of loud cracks echoed from above.

Ladakhi experts, waiting for the perfect moment, loosened massive boulders and ice chunks held in place along the cliffs.

With a thunderous crash, an avalanche of rock and ice plummeted onto the Bhargavian forces. Entire formations were crushed in an instant. Soldiers were flung aside like ragdolls, their bones snapping under the sheer force of the falling debris. Those not crushed outright tumbled helplessly off the mountain’s edge, their screams vanishing into the abyss below.

Then came the final barrage.

The Ladakhi cannons, taking full advantage of the chaos, unleashed another round of heavy fire. From above, their shots rained down with increased force due to gravity, turning every impact into a shockwave that sent soldiers sprawling.

Those who survived now faced the final layer of Ladakhi defenses—a towering iron-reinforced gate guarded by elite warriors wielding deadly glaives. Behind them, more archers stood ready to cover their comrades.

Here, steel met steel, blood met ice.

The Bhargavians, weary from their desperate charge, clashed against fresh Ladakhi warriors who had been waiting for this moment.

Blades flashed. Glaives cut through Bhargavian ranks, slicing through ribs and armor with brutal efficiency. Ladakhi swordsmen wielding two-handed blades hacked down enemy helmets, splitting skulls open in a single stroke.

A Bhargavian soldier, desperate, tried to scale the palisade barricades, only to have an axe-wielding Ladakhi sever his fingers, sending him screaming back into the carnage below.

Despite their best efforts, the Bhargavian forces were unable to breach the final defenses. They had reached their limit.

General Rudra, watching the slaughter unfold, clenched his fists. His mind raced for solutions, but none came. The Ladakhis were still well-prepared, their defenses nearly unbreakable.

His only hope was that his allies were still attacking from the southern flank. The smoke rising from beyond the blockade was the only sign of resistance from that side. But he had no way of knowing if they had succeeded.

Grinding his teeth, he made the only choice left.

"Retreat! Retreat! All forces, fall back!"

The order spread quickly through the ranks. The Bhargavians, bloodied and battered, turned and fled. Nearly a thousand men lay dead in the snow, but those who remained knew that staying any longer meant certain death.

As the Bhargavians withdrew, the Ladakhis erupted in cheers. Victory was theirs.

But the celebration was short-lived.

Before they could fully regroup, a second barrage of rockets streaked across the sky, descending upon their whole encampment. The ground shook as explosions rocked the stronghold, sending defenders scrambling for cover. The once-triumphant Ladakhi warriors were now caught in the firestorm, their base painted red with their own blood.

The battle was not yet over.