Empire Ascension: The Rise of the Fated One-Chapter 253: Battle of Ladakh part -11

A Few Hours Ago, Rudra’s Camp – Western Frontier of the ladakhi Blockade

The afternoon sun hung high, casting long shadows over the bustling war camp. Soldiers moved swiftly, their armor clanking as they reinforced barricades and tended to the wounded. The air was thick with tension, the rhythmic sounds of marching boots blending with the distant clang of steel.

Amidst the organized chaos, a sudden commotion erupted near the perimeter.

A group of men, clad in Ladakhi armor, had crossed the frontline through unknown means.

Tension spiked, but fortunately, they showed no signs of hostility and surrendered with surprising ease.

Had it not been for the white flag they carried and their communication in Devanagari, they would have been cut down on sight. Even so, they were quickly apprehended and escorted under heavy guard to central leadership.

Inside the war tent, Rudra was deep in discussion with his subordinates when the disturbance reached his ears.

A soldier rushed in, saluting. "Commander! We have... unexpected arrivals."

Moments later, the captives entered, their wary gazes scanning the room. One of them stepped forward and, with steady hands, presented a worn emblem bearing the Swastik, which was the unmistakable mark of Prince Aditya’s company.

Rudra’s tense shoulders eased. "Stand down," he ordered, waving off his men. As the newcomers were released, he leaned back in his seat, assessing them.

The tallest of the group stepped forward and saluted on behalf of his team. "General, Bahadur Veeren of the Gurkha Army at your service. I have been tasked by my king and Vice General Bheem to establish contact with your base." Reaching into his pouch, he retrieved a sealed letter. "This contains vital details meant for you."

Rudra took the letter and unfolded it, his eyes scanning the contents. It provided a complete report of the soldiers, arms, and ammunition available, along with details of their recent success in securing the southern frontier of the Ladakhi base. More importantly, it confirmed that Bheem had been assigned as the commander of Prince Aditya’s division, requiring Rudra to defer to him in this coordinated mission—despite the differences in rank.

Rudra exhaled sharply as he compared his division’s achievements to those of the prince’s unit. Though his forces had managed to take over Kashmir and push to the borders of Ladakh, their sacrifices had been immense, and they had yet to breach the blockade. Meanwhile, his allies had not only dealt a significant blow to the enemy but had also managed to infiltrate, cross over, and establish a secure point of contact.

With the war growing costlier by the day, it was only logical to set aside pride and let the prince’s army take the lead.

Turning to Faujdar Harish, he instructed, "Write a letter to Bheem."

As per the latest reports, they still had 7,000 troops available for the final assault on the capital, with 2,000 expected to remain behind to maintain control over Kashmir. Rudra also made note of Prince Tsewang, who still held the identity of the Kashmiri general Tenzin. If persuaded, he could bring 5,000 Kashmiri soldiers to their cause—though the price would be helping him ascend the throne of Ladakh in return for merging with the Samrajya.

Once the details were carefully documented, the pet master uncaged the carrier pigeon. With practiced ease, he removed the bird’s shackles, which had kept it silent, and released it into the sky.

With the message sent, Rudra turned to Harish. "See to the accommodation of our new arrivals," he ordered before returning his focus to the meeting.

As Harish departed, Subedar Zorawar, a close friend of Rudra, leaned in and asked, "Are you certain about trusting that renegade prince? From what I hear, he has yet to make a move for the throne."

Rudra sighed heavily. "At the very least, I need to lay the groundwork for future developments. With the prince’s army taking command, managing Kashmir and handling the war’s aftermath will be far easier."

meanwhile, Bheem’s camp- at the perimeter of southern side of zozila pass

Captain Ayush’s vision cleared as he woke up. He found himself in the infirmary tent, just as he had expected before losing consciousness. His entire body throbbed with pain, but it was still bearable. Lifting his head slightly, he looked around for other injured soldiers.

However, he was taken aback to find Bheem sitting nearby, watching him patiently. Even more surprising was that Bheem was alone.

Ayush recognized him as the commander, having seen him lead the army personally. Like Ayush, Bheem was young, with only a slight age difference between them. However, the gap in their power and status was immense. There was no reason for someone of Bheem’s rank to wait for a mere captain like him.

Ayush tried to stand up, but Bheem quickly reached out and said, "It’s all right. Stay where you are. I’m here to ask a few questions. No need to strain yourself."

Ayush nodded and straightened himself, his expression calm but tense.

Bheem got straight to the point. "I won’t waste time. Your actions on the battlefield were reckless. You disobeyed the chain of command, putting not only your men but also our special weapons, including the cannons at great risk. If those weapons had fallen into enemy hands, the entire course of this war could have changed. That kind of insubordination cannot be overlooked. I have decided to punish you."

Bheem paused, studying Ayush’s face. Throughout the conversation, the captain had maintained a serious and respectful demeanor, showing no sign of remorse or regret.

"Before I give my final verdict," Bheem continued, "do you have anything to say?"

Ayush responded in a firm, unwavering tone. "Sir, whatever punishment you have decided, I am prepared to accept it. I have nothing to say in my defense."

Bheem exhaled, his expression unreadable. "I appreciate your loyalty and determination. But I need to understand.. what were you thinking when you chose to defy orders?"

Ayush’s voice was steady. "Vice General, I did not intend to disobey. I made a tactical decision based on my understanding of the situation. The opportunity was there, and I seized it. Yes, we suffered losses, but I was prepared to die for the cause and gave my subordinates the choice to leave if they disagreed with my decision."

Bheem narrowed his eyes. "And what made you so certain that charging was the right call? Was the death of your men an acceptable risk to you?"

The mention of his fallen comrades struck a nerve. Ayush’s heart ached, but he refused to let his emotions show. Still, there was a flicker of remorse in his voice as he replied, "That was never my intention, sir. But I had complete faith in the prince’s weapons. The moment was perfect to catch the enemy off guard. I was confident in our superiority, and I believed we could break through. I admit, perhaps I was blinded by the prospect of victory. But I have always believed that an army that fears death cannot defeat its enemies. I failed to anticipate the full cost of that decision."

Bheem was taken aback by Ayush’s words. It was a harsh truth—one could not defeat an enemy while fearing death. Superior weaponry alone was not enough if the will to act was lacking. In reality, their side had been too cautious, giving the enemy time to adjust.

However, he didn’t knew, it was a difference in temperament. As someone born a commoner, Bheem had always been inclined toward a defensive approach. Ayush, a noble by birth, had an innate impulse for aggression and offense.

Before Bheem could say more, a messenger arrived and handed him a letter. Opening it, he saw that it was from Rudra. After reading it, he looked at Ayush and said, "Your thinking is bold, but it is not acceptable in the army—not like this. An army functions as a collective. You acted as an individual. If you can commit to following orders, even when your instincts push you otherwise, I will allow you to remain in command. Otherwise, you should consider a different path for your future."

Ayush did not flinch at the reprimand. He understood his mistake, but something deep inside him refused to fully accept it. Yet, he also recognized the opportunity he was being given. Despite his error, he was not being cast out completely. Losing a promotion or facing demotion was a far lighter punishment than what he had expected.

He bowed his head slightly clenching his fist to heart. "I accept your terms, Vice General. Thank you for your consideration."

Bheem nodded, satisfied. "Good. You will not take part in any further operations in this war. Take rest captain"

With that, Bheem turned and stepped out of the infirmary tent. However, Ayush’s words lingered in his thoughts.

By the time he reached his war tent, King Dravya and the other colonels were already waiting for him. Without wasting time, he briefed them on the latest developments—the assassination of the Tibetan prince, the intelligence gathered, idea of pursuing prince tsewang and the loss of supplies.

Before they could fully process the situation, he put forth a bold decision: a full-scale assault at dawn. 𝐟𝕣𝕖𝐞𝐰𝕖𝚋𝐧𝗼𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝗰𝐨𝐦

The room fell silent for a moment, his words catching everyone off guard. Something about Bheem’s demeanor had shifted. Yet, despite the surprise, the conditions were undeniably favorable. In fact, many of them had been considering the same course of action—but hearing it directly from their commander made all the difference.

With the plan set, they quickly drafted orders to be sent to Rudra’s division. At the first light of dawn, the attack would begin. The rest of the day would be spent in final preparations.

However, none of them knew that as they planned their assault, the Ladakhis were already waiting for the desent of night to strike first.

Nightfall – Rudra’s Camp, Tsewang’s Tent

Tsewang sat in his tent, the dim torchlight flickering against the canvas walls. His trusted subordinate, Jigmet Phutsong, poured wine into his glass and spoke cautiously,"Your Highness, I still believe you should reconsider the offer. Accepting it would not only secure our future but also save our kingdom from utter destruction."

Tsewang swirled the wine in his glass, his expression unreadable."You’re only looking at one side of the equation, Jigmet. They offer me the throne not out of goodwill but because they need us and those five thousand Kashmiri soldiers who follow me to fight their war. If they can’t win on their own, why should I serve as their cannon fodder? I’ve played my role, done my duty and I owe no one anything."

Jigmet hesitated, clearly wanting to push further, but Tsewang waved him off impatiently."You’re starting to sound tiresome, Jigmet. I have no ambition left. I’m content being just a guardian. Now, get some rest. Let’s call it a night."

Reluctantly, Jigmet stood and exited the tent, leaving Tsewang alone.

With a sigh, Tsewang drained his glass, then sat on his bed, mumbling drunkenly,"Throne... crown... politics... all nonsense."

For a moment, he sat dazed, his mind fogged by wine—until instinct took over.

His hand shot up, catching a flying arrow midair.

Before he could react further, ten masked figures emerged from the shadows, slipping through the tent’s curtains like wraiths.

Then—chaos. Explosions erupted outside, filling the camp with screams and firelight.

One of the masked men stepped forward, removing his disguise to reveal a Ladakhi field commander. He sneered."No one is coming to save you, Prince. We are here to claim your head. Now, die obediently."

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Author notes:

I know its feels like a drag to stretch the battle but all events are significant for future plot. Besides I plan to end the palace battle within 3 Chapters so bear it with me. we will meet our mc soon.