Heavy rains began to pour in the city of Daman, and dark clouds loomed over the city.
Vasant stared at the rain poured and washing away the blood caked in the stone pathways of the plaza. The high flames began to falter and flicker under the downpour.
He could see the ships of the Portuguese disappearing from his view. He was tired from the battle. His own senses were numbed from killing the rebels of the Qutb in anger. The rebels committed inhumane acts.
The picture of the woman pleading for her life was etched in his heart. She looked at him like he was some monster going to do inhumane acts to her.
'Damn it.'
He gripped his head in exasperation.
The Qutb rebel guards were massarched by both the Marathas and Vipin's group. Both of them were disgusted by the acts they did in the city.
