The first light of dawn stretched across the battlefield as the sun peeked over the horizon. The war had begun.
The deep, resonating call of the shankh filled the air, marking the sacred beginning of battle. The sigils of both armies waved high in the morning breeze, proud symbols of their allegiance. War drums thundered across the open plains, their deep rhythm setting the pulse of the warriors. The soldiers, their faces hardened with determination, tightened their grips on their weapons. Horsemen shifted their stance, steel shining under the new born sun.
Parashar, standing at the forefront of his army, slowly unsheathed his sword. The polished steel caught the light, gleaming like fire. The other commanders followed, drawing their blades in unison. Parashar inhaled deeply, closed his eyes for a moment, and murmured a silent prayer. He brought his sword in front of his face, then swept his gaze across his gathered forces. Every man stood waiting, watching, ready. They awaited his command.
With a mighty voice, Parashar raised his sword high and roared, "NO FEAR! NO FALL! NO FAILURE!"
The words tore through the battlefield like a storm. The army echoed his cry, their voices merging into a single, deafening roar that shook the ground beneath them.
Behind them, Ashvapati lifted the shankh once more and blew, its ancient call piercing the morning air. The soldiers' spirits soared, their energy surging like a tidal wave.
The march began. Shields locked, spears braced, and boots struck the earth in synchronized unison. The dust of the battlefield rose, wrapping the warriors in a haze of impending war.
Arya and Dhanudanda glanced at each other and exchanged a grin. Their blood ran hot with adrenaline. Together, they shouted, "No fear! No fall! No failure!" and stepped forward, their blades eager for battle.
Across the field, Savignya stood still atop her chariot, her piercing eyes scanning the enemy. She raised her hand and gave the signal. Behind her, catapults groaned under the weight of massive boulders, ready to unleash destruction.
On the opposite side, Sharvas rode swiftly through his ranks, his steed kicking up dust as he moved. He came to a halt before his army, lifted his sword, and bellowed, "NONE SHALL PASS! NONE SHALL LIVE!"
The warriors of Sharvas chanted their battle cry in unison, pounding their shields with their weapons.
Raktapasu lifted his conch and blew hard. The shrill cry sent chills through the battlefield. Step by step, his soldiers moved forward, their heavy boots trembling the ground beneath them.
Eknandini twirled her twin parshus (battle axes) in her hands and howled her war cry. Kritipal, gripping his massive battle axe, barked commands to his men.
Two great tides of warriors advanced toward each other, neither willing to yield.
The moment stretched. Time seemed to halt. Countless thoughts raced through the minds of those about to clash.
"Get out of my way, Sharvas! Show me your face!" Arya's grip tightened around his sword hilt.
"I feel sorry for the men who will taste my blade today." Dhanudanda exhaled slowly.
"March forward! Crush them beneath our feet!" Parashar's resolve was unshaken.
"It's time now! The battlefield shall see our might!" Savignya remained calm, prepared for what was to come.
"You're finished, Arya!" Sharvas smirked under his helmet.
"I'll have my revenge!" Raktapasu thought bitterly, gripping his sword.
"I will crush them all!" Eknandini's hands burned with a thirst for battle.
"May the gods have mercy on the fools who dare challenge me!" Kritipal prepared for the slaughter to come.
Then—
THUD! CLANG!
The first collision echoed through the battlefield. Spears met shields, swords clashed, and arrows blackened the sky. The two sides collided into each other like two waves.
The Arrow dented the shield briefly. A sword struck through armour. A man fell, then another. The war had begun.
Raktapasu's men faltered momentarily, stepping back under the sheer force of the arrowhead formation pushing against them.
"Hold the line! Hold the line!" Raktapasu roared.
Arya and Dhanudanda fought viciously at the forefront, their blades carving a path through enemy ranks. Every step forward widened the breach in Sharvas' defence.
On both sides, archers loosed their arrows. The sky became a storm of whistling death. Soldiers raised their shields, bracing for the onslaught. The unlucky ones fell where they stood.
Seeing the breach forming, Sharvas signaled to his men. Eknandini and Kritipal gave their orders, and their forces surged forward, attempting to close in from the flanks. The battle was no longer a straightforward clash; it had become a struggle for positioning, control, and survival.
Savignya, watching from behind, readied the war machines. Massive ballistae creaked as they were aimed at the approaching enemy forces. With a swift motion, she signaled the engineers. The first volley of projectiles was launched. The air filled with the sound of rushing missiles.
CRASH!
A row of enemy soldiers collapsed as a boulder crushed them into the earth. Eknandini barely dodged a falling projectile. Gritting her teeth, she pushed forward, cutting down a soldier in her path.
Sharvas, still behind his main forces, studied the battlefield. He knew this was only the beginning. He had yet to unleash his full strength.
Parashar, too, knew that this war would not be won in a single charge. The battle had only just begun, and already the earth was drinking its first taste of blood.
Survival. The most primal instinct. Every warrior now fought for it. The battlefield, long-starved of carnage, roared to life as steel clashed and war cries filled the heavens.
And so, the war of warlords had begun.