Empire of India: Rise of the Ruthless Prince

Harsha awoke with the first light of dawn filtering through the windows of his chamber. The soft, golden rays warmly glow on the marble floor, creating a serene and calming atmosphere. The birds chirping filled the air, blending harmoniously with the distant hum of the bustling palace waking up to a new day.

He stretched his limbs, feeling the pleasant sensation of well-rested muscles. The bed, adorned with silk sheets and plush pillows, had provided the perfect rest after days of exhausting negotiations and travel.

Harsha sat up, running a hand through his tousled hair, and took a deep breath, savouring the fresh morning air that carried a hint of blooming jasmine from the palace gardens.

Harsha called in a maid, cracking his neck and stretching his shoulders. "prepare my breakfast while I freshen up," he ordered, heading toward the washroom.

The maid nodded, bowing slightly before hurrying off to fulfil his request.

Pausing at the window, Harsha turned back to the maid. "When do the palace guards start their practice in the morning?"

The maid turned around and replied promptly, "They begin at the break of dawn, Your Highness. They should be starting their drills soon."

Harsha nodded, satisfied with the information. "Good. I wanted to stretch and train my sore muscles a bit after breakfast. Call Praveen to come to my room on the way."

"Understood, Your Highness," The maid said, respectfully bowing.

Once refreshed, he donned his attire for the day—an elegant but practical outfit that allowed ease of movement. Emerging from his chambers, he found the maid had arranged a hearty breakfast on a low table by the window.

Finishing his meal, Harsha rose and made his way to the courtyard, where he saw Praveen walking towards the complex. The sun was now higher in the sky, casting a warm glow over the palace. Harsha took a deep breath, feeling the energy of the new day.

"Your Highness, You summoned me?" Praveen said with a slight incline of respect.

"Guide me to the Training place of the palace guards," he ordered

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Praveen led Harsha to a vantage point where they could observe the training without interruption. "The guards begin their training at dawn and continue until midday, Your Highness. They focus on a variety of skills to ensure they are prepared for any situation."

"Who is the instructor here?" Harsha inquired.

"Um... The person who usually leads the drill is the Palace Guard Commander, Saluva Narasimha. The Commander is on leave right now, so the Vice Commander, Rama Nayaka, is currently in charge."

"I see," Harsha said as he looked down from the vantage point, watching the soldiers march and jog in clean, neat formations.

"I wanted to stretch my body and spar a bit. Guide me to the Vice Commander."

"Certainly, Your Highness. This way," Praveen responded, leading Harsha down the steps and across the courtyard towards the training grounds. They walked past rows of soldiers practising their drills with impressive precision.

As they approached, Rama Nayaka noticed their arrival and stepped forward, his expression full of curiosity. "Your Highness," he greeted.

"Vice Commander Nayaka, I wish to Participate in the drill to stretch my body. Will you assist me?" Harsha stated.

"Of course, Your Highness. It would be an honour," Rama Nayaka replied. He quickly barked a few orders to the soldiers, instructing them to continue their drills, and then turned back to Harsha. "This way, please."

Rama Nayaka continued with a stoic voice, "Your Highness, the soldiers typically start with running to warm up, followed by another set of running with sandbags on their shoulders. Afterwards, they move on to lifting exercises to improve their physical condition."

"Sparring follows, mainly with wooden swords or spears. Wrestling is also included to enhance agility," he explained.

Harsha nodded, absorbing the information. "I see,"

Rama Nayaka replied with a slight smile. "Yes, Your Highness. We strive to maintain peak physical and combat capabilities,"

Harsha began stretching his limbs and cracking his neck with a smile on his face. "Well, I haven't stretched and sparred in a long time," he mused, feeling a familiar anticipation.

Since being reborn into this body, he had fought only one significant battle. The body was fit, but not trained enough for him to display his innate skills fully. He knew he wouldn't have won the fight in Gulbarga if it hadn't been for the element of surprise.

The body's strength and flexibility were not up to his standards, and he knew he needed to train rigorously to ensure his safety and effectiveness in future conflicts.

Harsha took a deep breath, feeling the energy of the morning sun warming his skin. He grabbed a sandbag and swung it onto his shoulders, then started jogging alongside the soldiers. They were quite taken aback that the prince had joined them in their training, but they quickly adapted to his presence.

After warming up with 20 laps around the ground, Harsha moved on to lifting exercises, following the palace guards' precise, coordinated movements. He focused on conditioning his body, pushing himself to match the soldiers' intensity and rhythm.

"Why is the youngest prince here? They have personal training halls, right?" one soldier asked sitting down and resting after the exercise.

"Considering the young prince's stature in the family, he probably has no one to train with or spar against," the other replied chugging some water.

"Either way, it's commendable for him to follow the Palace guard training routine on his first day," another soldier interjected, voicing his opinion.

"Also, I heard a rumour that the prince singlehandedly killed more than 20 Bahmani soldiers and saved Commander Hariharan from an ambush," another chimed in.

"That has to be made up. There is no way the prince, who is not even as talented as his older brother, can kill more than 20 soldiers. Hahaha," scoffed a third.

"Eh!! You think Commander Venkata would allow such a lie to spread around?" one replied, sceptically.

"YOU LOT, GET READY TO SPAR!! QUICK!!" Rama Nayaka's scream echoed through the field, silencing all conversation. The soldiers quickly stopped their workout and lined up, facing the Vice Commander.

Rama Nayaka scanned the line of soldiers, his eyes sharp. "Today, we have a special sparring session. The prince will join us. Pair up and prepare yourselves."

The soldiers paired off, some exchanging nervous glances. Harsha picked up a wooden sword, feeling the weight of it in his hand. He moved to the centre of the sparring area, waiting for his opponent.

Rama Nayaka was a staunch supporter of the throne. He had his doubts after the reports of the prince killing 20 Bahmani soldiers in Gulbarga. He had always seen the youngest prince as the least talented of his brothers.

He found it hard to believe the report from Venkata Reddy. Today was his chance to see the prince's abilities in person and confirm the truth. As he pondered, he debated whether to match the prince with Narayana or Varun.

Narayana, the youngest of all the palace guards at 20 years old, was tall, muscular, and a giant of a man who wielded the sword swiftly. Despite his inexperience in battles, he was very talented.

Varun, on the other hand, was once the strongest palace soldier after the commander and Rama Nayaka. Though of a shorter stature, he had climbed up the ranks through hard work and willpower. He used basic swordsmanship that he had honed to its maximum potential.

Narayana's major flaw was his arrogance, which had gone overboard after he bested Varun in duels, making him the de facto strongest palace guard after the commander and Rama Nayaka.

Rama Nayaka weighed the options. He needed someone who could challenge Harsha but also gauge his skills effectively.

"VARUN, COME FORWARD AND SPAR WITH THE PRINCE," Rama Nayaka's voice rang out, firm and commanding.

Varun stepped forward, his expression neutral but his eyes sharp with determination. Harsha, holding his wooden sword, watched as his opponent approached. The soldiers formed a circle around them, eager to witness the match.

Varun bowed slightly. "Your Highness, I am honoured to spar with you."

Harsha nodded. "Likewise,"

They took their stances, the air thick with anticipation. Varun was nervous and tense, staring at the relaxed stance of the young prince. It was his first time sparring with a member of the royal family.

'What should I do? Will I be executed if I hurt the prince? ' His mind raced with millions of questions.

He charged at the prince, swinging his wooden sword at Harsha's torso. The prince easily parried the attack and, with a swift rotation of his wrist, changed the direction of the sword to slash at Harsha's head. Harsha quickly struck the underside of Varun's wrist with his elbow, halting the attack, and followed through with a kick to Varun's stomach, causing him to fall to the ground.

"Is that it? So disappointing," Harsha said, looking down at Varun, who was awestruck by the quick counter.

THWACK

"OWWWH!" Varun screamed in agony, clutching his head after Harsha had struck his head with the flat side of the wooden sword.

"Why are you spacing out? Clear your mind and take your stance. Next time, I won't be this gentle," Harsha instructed.

Varun scrambled to his feet, his face flushed with embarrassment and determination. He adjusted his grip on his sword and took his stance once more, his mind now focused and clear.

Harsha smirked, seeing the resolve in Varun's eyes. "That's more like it."