Chapter 430 - 398: Speech Of Kings Before War...

(A/N):

Drop a meme here that you find funny. Or reflects your mood.

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From that moment onwards, the fate of the armies would be decided by their actions.

Devara lifted his chin as the final conch faded into the distance.

Across from him, Vrishasena raised his weapon, his eyes never leaving the opposing army.

"Warriors of Vrishabhapura!"

Vrishasena called, his powerful voice carrying across the front ranks.

"Today, we stand upon this battlefield to defend the honour and authority of our kingdom. We have not come here to surrender our traditions to a ruler who believes his own judgement is greater than the wisdom preserved by generations before him."

"Hold your formations, obey your commanders, and fight with the courage for which Vrishabhapura is known. Let the world witness that our kingdom will not bow merely because another king demands that we abandon the principles upon which we stand!"

His words were met with a thunderous roar from his soldiers.

Thousands of weapons rose into the air, shields struck against spear shafts, and the bull banners shook as the warriors answered their king with a cry that rolled across the plain.

On the opposite side, Devara surveyed the men assembled beneath his banners.

He could see the nervousness in some faces, the determination in others, and the quiet resolve of veterans who had already experienced the horrors of war.

He knew that many had come because they trusted him, while others had joined the alliance because they understood that allowing Vrishasena to dictate the affairs of independent kingdoms would place every ruler at risk.

Devara raised his arm, and the movement gradually drew the attention of the soldiers nearest his chariot.

Their voices quietened as the signal passed through the formations, until thousands of warriors were watching their king as he declared.

"Warriors of Trivenivrata and the kingdoms standing beside us! You have not gathered here to conquer the homes of innocent people, nor have you come to force another kingdom to kneel before us."

"You stand here because no ruler has the right to decide that an entire people must remain ignorant simply because he fears what they might become when given knowledge. You stand here because our independence cannot be surrendered to another man’s ambition, and because the dignity of our people cannot be made conditional upon their birth!"

His gaze moved across the ranks, taking in the soldiers who had travelled from distant kingdoms to stand beside him.

"Remember what we are defending. Remember the families waiting for you beyond this battlefield, and remember that the men standing opposite you have families of their own. Fight when you must, protect your companions, and obey the rules we have agreed to uphold."

"Do not mistake restraint for weakness, but do not allow anger to turn you into something you would be ashamed to become. Our purpose is to defend what is ours, not to destroy everything that belongs to another!"

For a heartbeat, the battlefield remained silent.

Then the allied soldiers erupted in a roar that rivalled the one raised by Vrishabhapura’s army.

Swords and spears rose above their heads, shields struck together, and the banners of the allied kingdoms fluttered as their warriors answered Devara’s call.

The sound carried far beyond the assembled formations, reaching the camps and the distant river that bordered the plain.

Devara lowered his arm and turned towards the commander stationed beside his chariot.

The man immediately understood the signal and raised the designated battle flag.

Across the battlefield, a corresponding banner rose above Vrishabhapura’s front ranks.

Both kings watched as the flags reached their appointed positions.

For one suspended instant, thousands of warriors stood poised between anticipation and action.

Archers tightened their fingers around bowstrings, infantrymen leaned forward with their weapons ready, and charioteers braced themselves against the railings of their vehicles.

The four sabertooth tigers pulling Devara’s chariot lowered their powerful heads, their muscles tightening beneath their coats as they sensed the tension passing through their master.

Devara rested one hand upon the chariot’s railing, his eyes fixed upon the opposing formation.

Then the signal came.

The front ranks of both armies surged forward.

A tremendous roar erupted across the battlefield as thousands of soldiers charged towards one another, their footsteps shaking the earth beneath them.

Infantrymen advanced with shields raised and spears extended, while cavalrymen thundered along the flanks, kicking up clouds of dust that rose into the morning sky.

Chariots raced between the formations, their wheels grinding against the trampled ground as drivers shouted to their horses and warriors prepared to strike.

From behind the advancing infantry, archers released their first volleys, sending countless arrows arcing above the battlefield.

For a brief moment, the sky itself appeared to darken beneath the rain of arrows.

The first wave struck the advancing formations, arrows clattering against shields and armour while others found their marks among the charging soldiers.

Warriors stumbled, horses reared in alarm, and the men behind them were forced to alter their paths to avoid those who had fallen.

Yet the momentum of the advancing armies carried them forward, and neither side slowed enough to prevent the inevitable collision.

The two front lines crashed into each other with a force that sent men staggering backwards.

Shields smashed together, spears thrust through the narrow openings between opposing formations, and swords flashed as warriors fought for every step of ground.

The carefully arranged ranks began to buckle under the pressure, with individual groups becoming entangled in desperate struggles that bore little resemblance to the orderly formations the commanders had prepared.

Men shouted orders that were swallowed by the noise of battle, while the cries of wounded soldiers mingled with the clanging of steel and the thunder of approaching chariots.

At one point, a group of Trivenivrata’s infantrymen managed to force their way into the enemy line, only to find themselves surrounded when Vrishabhapura’s reserve soldiers advanced from behind.

Their commander shouted for them to maintain their formation, but the press of bodies made it difficult to hear him.

A warrior raised his shield just in time to deflect a descending sword, then drove his shoulder into the man attacking him, forcing both of them away from the centre of the struggle.

Nearby, two soldiers grappled over a fallen spear while a third attempted to drag his injured companion out of the path of the advancing horses.

The battle had become chaotic almost as soon as it began.

A chariot swept through a gap in the fighting, its wheels throwing dirt into the air as the warrior standing upon it released a volley of arrows into the opposing ranks.

Before he could turn for another pass, a spear struck the side of his vehicle, and the charioteer was forced to pull sharply to avoid colliding with a knot of infantrymen.

Elsewhere, cavalry from the allied kingdoms attempted to exploit a weakness along Vrishabhapura’s left flank, but the enemy commanders responded quickly, sending their own mounted warriors to meet the advance.

The two groups collided in a storm of hooves, raised weapons, and frightened horses struggling to obey their riders.

The dust thickened until parts of the battlefield became difficult to see.

Banners disappeared behind the moving masses of soldiers, and commanders were forced to rely upon messengers and the familiar calls of their units to determine what was happening beyond their immediate surroundings.

The distinction between the original front lines began to blur as small groups advanced, retreated, and became entangled with fresh formations arriving from behind.

From their respective chariots, Devara and Vrishasena watched the opening stages of the battle unfold.

Vrishasena’s expression remained hard as he observed the first collisions, searching for signs that his army’s discipline would carry it through the initial assault.

Devara, meanwhile, studied the movement of the allied formations, noting where the enemy had held its ground and where the pressure of the charge had created dangerous gaps.

Neither king had yet committed himself to the heart of the fighting.

Their commanders were engaged, their soldiers were testing one another’s strength, and the first exchanges were revealing the capabilities of the armies that had spent days preparing for this confrontation.

The four divine sabertooth tigers shifted impatiently beneath Devara’s chariot, their claws digging into the earth as the battle cries reached them.

They were ready to charge, but Devara kept his attention upon the wider battlefield, waiting for the moment when his intervention would serve a purpose greater than merely adding another powerful warrior to the fray.

Across the field, the bull banners of Vrishabhapura remained visible through the clouds of dust, while the banners of Trivenivrata and its allies stood firm despite the disorder spreading along the front.

The sun continued climbing higher above them, indifferent to the blood already staining the grass beneath its light.

And as the two armies fought for their first advantage, the war between Devara and Vrishasena had finally begun in earnest.

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(Author note:)

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