Reborn In 17th century India with Black Technology

Basra Fortress

Sayyid Khalid Mashhadani, finally walking down the stairs into the main hall of the fortress, was sweating profusely. He had been in some dangerous situations before, but never one where his death had been this close. If it wasn't for him ignoring his dignity and crawling on the floor, he would be dead by now. Just thinking about the bullet that grazed his hair made his blood run cold.

This feeling of weakness and vulnerability made him very angry. "Who the hell selected the sandbags? Bring him to me right now!" he growled like a wounded beast that had gone mad.

The soldiers who managed to retreat from the top of the fortress stepped a few feet back as they were startled by the growl of the general. They looked at each other with panicked expressions. Mashhadani was getting impatient, and his irritable mood got worse. Just when he was about to snap, a soldier whose hand had been pierced by a bullet spoke out with gritted teeth.

"Y-Your Excellency, G-General, a-all those sandbags w-were selected by y-your nephew, Y-Young Master M-Mujahideen M-Mashhadani." he stuttered a little as the pain from his hand hit his senses in never-ending waves, one more violent than the other.

Mashhadani suddenly lost his angry expression. His face turned white at a visible speed, and he clenched his fists strong enough for his nails to dig into his own flesh, bleeding.

He never expected that the reason for his defeat would be his own fault. He had given a low-level position to his nephew because of his love for his sister, but who would have thought that his nephew would do such a thing?

"Where is he now?" he asked his men without any emotion.

This sent shivers down the soldiers' spines, but they had to respond, or else they knew things would not be pleasant. Unfortunately, none of them knew what had happened to the young master, since they were at the top of the fortress with the general.

Thankfully, knowing about the situation, the soldiers who were stationed at various positions inside the fortress and had arrived soon after the general's roar explained the situation with fear on their faces.

"Your Excellency, General, Young Master Mujahideen Mashhadani has been killed in the cannon room by the soldiers of the Bharatiya Empire."

"We are sorry we couldn't protect him. Please punish us," the soldiers quickly knelt down, hoping that their punishment would not be too severe.

Sayyid Khalid was immediately taken aback, then he felt very sad. Even though he wanted to punish his nephew for what he had done, he did not want to kill him, since, despite everything, he was still his blood relative After all, he had watched him grow up. But now, knowing that he was dead, his hands and feet were frozen solid. He did not know what to do.

"Wasn't he in the Cannon room? What happened? How could a bullet hit him there?" he asked, his eyes a little lost but also containing a hint of ruthlessness.

The soldiers immediately sensed this threat and responded without hesitation. "General, the young master was hit by a stray bullet that went through the sandbag placed on the window. Unknowingly, the sandbag had been punctured by a bullet beforehand and had already fallen out. Without knowing, the young master stood near it in order to get a visual on the enemy. Unfortunately, at this time, a bullet caught him off guard. It pearsed his throat, and he died soon after."

"Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!"

Sayyid Khalid was grieving, but nature is unfair; it does not run according to anyone's whims. The cannon shots of the Bharatiya Empire kept firing relentlessly, and the gunshots were heard one wave after another like an array of deadly exterminations. Sayyid Khalid's only form of defence was the cannons which were still somewhat effective. As for anything else, they no longer held any importance in the battle. The biggest saving grace for him was that the fortress was built with strong rock material, so even if it was bombarded continuously, it would not be easy to take it down. Especially since the cannons currently used by the enemy were mobile, they compromised a little in terms of power for manoeuvrability.

"Send out a distress signal. Let them know that we are in trouble."

"Everyone remaining will completely defend the interior of the fort. We no longer have to worry about what happens externally."

"Don't guard the door anymore. Let the enemy come inside if they wish. The muskets we have should now be useful since the long range of the enemy doesn't matter within the fortress anymore."

"Turn the fortress into a slaughterhouse. Utilize our advantage of familiarity and strangle them to death."

Sayyid Khalid gave orders one by one. He was now risking it all for survival. Even though he was not a great tactician, when he was fully stimulated by the failure of the sandbags, the death of his nephew, and his own life hanging by a thread, he thought of this high-risk manoeuvre.

Kaveh Atashban was suddenly confused as to why the fortress door was opening as if to welcome them inside. The soldiers were overjoyed, thinking that the enemy had given up, but Kaveh always had a bad premonition about this move.

"Squad 15, go inside and check out what is happening."

The soldiers in Squad 15 were hesitant, but they moved forward nonetheless. They got to the door of the fortress and eventually disappeared inside.

'Bang!' 'Bang!' 'Bang!'

A few gunshots were immediately heard, which raised Kaveh Atashban's alertness significantly.n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

A few seconds later, only a single soldier came out of the fortress, his leather armour torn apart and his body bleeding from multiple places.

"It's a trap, General! Those guys have set up a trap!" The soldier finally fell down, permanently resting.

Just then, a flaming arrow coming from the top of the fortress lit up the sky.

Looking at the arrow, Kaveh Atashban knew that things were not good.

Kaveh looked at the fortress, where no enemy was in sight, and then at the fortress wall which still stood strong without any obvious structural damage,

'Damn it', he was annoyed. "Turtle-shelled bastard," he cursed.

Just then, he suddenly had an idea.

He walked back to the tents, picked up a grenade, stopped the cannon bombardment in a specific section, and threw the grenade into the fortress.

"Boom!"

"Ahhhh!"

"Oh!"

A loud bang echoed, followed by the screams of men experiencing extreme pain.

A smile suddenly appeared on Kaveh Atashban's face. He knew that his strategy might work.

"3rd Brigade, go into the fortress, but this time use grenades to clear out each and every room."

---

Captain Chandrashekhar finally saw the end of the Persian Gulf as they arrived near a small fishing village called Kuwait.

"Let the battleship *Dhania* and battleship *Nirmala*, along with thirty medium-scale frigates and clippers and thirty small-scale frigates and clippers, go through the tributary while the rest of the navy follows me," Chandra Shekhar ordered.

Govinda, the executive officer, immediately saluted and left the bridge.

---

Ardeshir Atashban stood on top of the fortress of Baghdad with a complex expression on his face. After the family had agreed to his daughter's suggestion, the reaction from the people was indeed unexpected. No one had anticipated that the people of the Persian province would support their family so much that they would actually take up arms and stand guard in defence of the Atashban family. Find your next read at empire

Seeing this, Roxana Atashban did not want to evacuate Baghdad as planned but wanted to stay back and boost the morale of the people. Ardeshir, who got to know about this situation, immediately opposed Roxana's decision, but unfortunately, the reasons she gave were too convincing.

Hence, as a workaround, he personally decided to stay in Baghdad while he forcefully sent away his daughter, the future leader of the family, back to Hamidam.

Ardeshir's eyes were a little cloudy as he tried to gaze as far as possible at the horizon, but he could not.

"Patriarch, we identified an army of at least 20,000 people marching toward our direction," a scout informed with a panicked expression on his face.

Ardeshir's expression was calm. He was already prepared for such a thing to happen, so he wasn't scared.

Taking a deep breath, he continued to stand on top of the fortress with his hands behind his back.

Looking at this scene, the civilians who had volunteered to defend the city of Baghdad for the Atashban family couldn't help but shed a few tears. Looking at that back, even though it was old and wind-beaten, it felt like an iron pillar supporting a whole building.

In this way, the people of Baghdad continued to make preparations, and more people started to join the Patriarch on top of the fortress.

However, surprisingly, a scout who was monitoring the movements of the Zangana army came in with a happy expression on his face.

"Patriarch, the army of the Zangana family is turning back and returning to Kurdistan."

Ardeshir, who didn't even react when he heard that an army of 20,000 strong men was approaching, suddenly felt surprised when he heard this news.

"What happened?"

He asked, confused.

"I am not aware of this, Patriarch, but the top leaders of the Zangana army looked pretty panicked and scared. In their worry, they even ignored the army formation and ran to the front by themselves," the scout said.

Ardeshir fell into deep thought. 'Could the Bhartiya Empire have done something? '