Reborn In 17th century India with Black Technology-Chapter 1182: WWI: Siege of the Americas (6)

14th September 1700.

The weather in what would be known in Vijay’s past life as Los Angeles, the centre of the world’s media industry, was warm and pleasant. Since there were no people excessively pumping groundwater for their own use, forest fires were far less frequent, and the region was noticeably greener.

Amidst the sparse shrubs and trees in a steep valley, a group of men stood at attention. Their bodies were covered in tattoos and red paint, marked with red orchid and black charcoal patterns, with only a single cloth covering their lower bodies. Surprisingly, each of them held a musket in hand, scanning their surroundings with sharp vigilance.

Suddenly, the lookout gave a unique signal that sounded like a bird’s chirp. Everyone instantly understood, someone was approaching.

The men tensed and raised their guns, aiming toward a faint figure visible on the horizon.

The atmosphere grew heavy. Behind them lay their entire settlement of fifteen thousand people. They could not allow the white men to discover their location, and more importantly, they could not let them learn that they possessed advanced weapons like guns and grenades.

As the figure in the distance drew closer, his features slowly became clearer, and the soldiers’ expressions shifted.

The man looked strange at first glance. He resembled them in many ways, even down to his long hair, yet he wore an unfamiliar military outfit marked with brown striped patterns and various insignias.

But there was no mistaking it, he was one of their own.

The tattoos on his arms and the red and charcoal body paint were unmistakable. The shell necklace around his neck matched theirs as well. Although they could not see any feather ornaments due to the cap he wore, the stitching on it still carried feather like patterns.

They hesitated, unsure of what to do. They were conflicted over whether to treat the man as an enemy, a stranger, or one of their own.

Soon, everyone’s attention turned to a single person, Captain of Guard Team Four, Pahwana.

Unlike the others, Pahwana did not look flustered or confused. His expression remained firm as he narrowed his eyes and kept his weapon trained on the approaching man, now barely a hundred meters away.

"Identify yourself, or be warned, we will shoot," he bellowed, his voice echoing sharply through the valley.

Maybe the threat worked, or it was something else, the man stopped immediately and lifted his hands up as a show that he had no weapons on him. But Pahwana did not lower his guard. He remained determined to stay cautious to the very end.

What his teammates did not know, but he did, from traveling with the elders, was that there were people among their own kind who had chosen to side with the white men, obey their commands, and fight on their behalf. He despised such traitors even more than the white men themselves.

Because of that, his vigilance toward the man standing before him, someone who looked like his own, was even sharper than it would have been toward any outsider.

Kitchi, seeing as how the guns were still pointed at him, felt a little uncomfortable, but he was not the young man he used to be anymore, so he quickly recovered his composure and made unique sounds through his mouth, a secret coded language of his tribe hunters to pass on his message.

Pahwana raised an eyebrow, looking at the man with clear doubt. ’One of our own, and he wants to meet the chief?’ The thought left him wary, there was no way he would beleave that. Then he realized he did not need to decide on his own. Turning slightly, he nudged one of his subordinates and said, "Inform the chief elder about this. Ask him what we should do, whether we bring him in or send him away."

"Yes."

Then Pahmana looked towards the man at the distance and screamed, "Listen, friend, we are in no position to trust you completely. I have sent one of my men to relay the message about your appearance and your intention, the reply should come in a few hours. Until then, you can wait." Then he hesitated and added, "With us, please approach slowly."

Kitchi let out a sigh of relief and walked forward. Well, those words made him feel even more uncomfortable, but he understood his circumstances and did not blame the man opposite to him for giving him a hard time.

Silence ensued at the base of the guard team number four. Kitchi sat under the lookout tower at a distance, not trying to start a conversation or figure out how his people were during his absence. The same went for the members of the guard team, they did not speak with the mysterious man who looked like them and wore certain things like them, but they curiously stared at him, his every movement and his every action.

It is precisely because Kitchi used to be one of the men of the Ohlone that he felt a little disappointed, and his emotions were complicated. ’Well, forget it. What has happened has happened, let’s look at the future.’

’How do I convince the tribal chief to cooperate with the empire? Wait, is the old man alive? If he is there, things will become much more easier.’ But he had no confidence, after all, the last time he saw the old man tribal chief it was over 15 years ago and he was already in his 60s then. Given the unavailability of hospitals and medicines, he knows it is very unlikely for the old man to be alive, but one can always hope, and that’s what he did.

Time moved fast, and the soldier who had gone to inform the chief elder came back and whispered something in the ears of Pahmana.

Kichi did not know what Pahwana had heard, but whatever it was seemed to ease his attitude. The creases on Pahwana’s forehead softened, and he no longer looked at Kichi as if he were a potential enemy. Although Kichi could still sense a certain distance between them, it had noticeably lessened.

"Are you from the Bharatiya Empire, friend?"

Kichi immediately smiled, "Kitchi Ohlone Chakravarty, Lieutenant General of the Surya Nagari Regiment."

"That’s my name, nice to make your acquaintance, friend, although I am not exactly from the Bharatiya Empire but from a vassal kingdom under it, since my organisation is the Bharatiya Military, you can consider me as a citizen as well."

Pahmana did not understand what the long title meant. In fact, he barely understood the first two words of the name, and the last one sounded unfamiliar as well. The foreign tone of it, combined with the lengthy title, gave the man a mysterious and somewhat imposing air.

As for the claim of not being exactly from the Bharatiya Empire, Pahmana was unsure what that truly implied. Still, since the man stated that he served in the Bharatiya military, Pahmana chose to regard him as a person of the Bharatiya Empire regardless.

"Brother Kitchi, why do you have our tribe’s name in your name?" Pahmana enquired curiously.

Kitchy’s smile, "It is something we children of this land do after going to the distant place in the West in order to remember our roots, and usually we take the name of our tribe as the middle name and choose a Bharatiya surname that we like."

"Ohh, so you really are from our tribe."

"Yes, it’s a long story, but put that aside, tell me about the situation in the tribe, how has it been?"

This question would have immediately raised alarms in Pahmana’s mind if it was before, but now that he understood that the person was from the Bharatiya Empire, he relaxed and explained the entire way as they walked back to the tribal lands.

As Kichi walked down the street, he could feel that he was attracting a lot of gazes from the people around, who looked at him with curiosity and a little apprehension, as if he was a foreigner, but thankfully he had come to terms with his situation, so it did not bother him as much anymore.

Finally brought before a group of old men, Kichi paid his respects in the ways of his tribe, only to be disappointed that the old tribal chief was really absent. He must have really died, but thankfully he recognised a face among the old men.

"Brother Tasuki?" 𝙛𝒓𝒆𝙚𝒘𝒆𝓫𝙣𝓸𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝒄𝒐𝓶

Tasuki was startled when a stranger called out his name, but when he looked closer, a face which he had long forgotten slowly overlapped, and his eyes widened, "Little Kichi!? How.....oh god." He closed his mouth in surprise.

"Elder Tasuki, do you know this person?" The man who looked like he had the most authority asked.

"Haha, yes, he is a person of our tribe, but during an attack by the white men he got separated, and I heard that he was caught by them, sold as a slave. Now it looks like he made it to the Western Safeland, haa, 15 years passed so quickly."

Kichi nodded, his eyes a little red. It has been 15 years already. He couldn’t help but be thankful for his situation. When he was caught by the white men and sold as a slave, he thought that his life would be over, but who would have thought that he was sold to the Bharatiyas. Although he had to work to pay off his debts for a while, he lived a good life, and he even joined the military, rising through the ranks over the years, and now reaching the position of the lieutenant general of a whole regiment.

"I have a lot to discuss with you, elder brother, but we will do that later, as I have a mission to fulfil." He let out a turbulent breath, and his face took on a serious and sombre expression.

"The Empire’s troops are on the shore of the Americas, the Empire has declared war on the white men, we need your help."