Baldev charged into the ranks of the panicking soldiers. They had lost their captain and were disorganized due to the lack of commands given to them.
He broke through the ranks of the infantry with little to no difficulty. He was at the forefront of the charge, taking responsibility for his actions.
Heads rolled as Baldev swung his sword in an arc. He was slicing the soldier's vital points with ease. Blood and intestines splattered all over his armor as he kept his relentless charge.
The Mughal soldiers were demoralized as they witnessed a demon dancing in their midst. Severing and cleaving each enemy with precision and ease. It was a horrible dance of blood and blade.
His face was trickling with his enemy's blood. He laughed loudly as adrenaline coursed through his body. Each swing of the sword felt electric and numb.
"You bastards !! We are the Marathas. We would rather die than lose to scum like you!! HAHAHA."
