The cold night air enveloped them as they slipped out of Bahadurgad Fort. The sky above was a dark blanket of stars, the moon hidden behind a veil of clouds. For a brief moment, everything was still—the world seemed frozen in time. The MC's heart pounded in his chest, each beat a reminder of the danger they were still in. They had escaped the fort, but the real challenge was just beginning.
Sambhaji Raje leaned heavily on his shoulder, his once-powerful frame weakened by weeks of torture and imprisonment. But despite the weight on his body, there was an undeniable strength in the Raje's movements, a determination that could not be crushed. Even blinded and bruised, Sambhaji was still a king—a warrior with a purpose.
The MC glanced around, his eyes scanning the landscape for any signs of movement. His system map flickered in his vision, showing a few scattered red dots in the distance—Mughal soldiers patrolling the outer edges of the fort. For now, they seemed unaware of the escape. But that wouldn't last long. Eventually, the guards would wake, and when they found the empty cell, they would raise the alarm.
"We need to keep moving," the MC whispered, trying to mask the nervous tremor in his voice. "It won't be long before they realize you're gone."
Sambhaji nodded, his face impassive but his body tense with urgency. "Lead the way," he said quietly, his voice low but steady.
They moved as quickly as they could through the rough terrain, the path uneven and treacherous. Every sound seemed amplified in the quiet of the night—the crunch of gravel beneath their feet, the rustling of leaves in the wind. The MC's mind raced, calculating the best route to safety. They needed to get far enough away from Bahadurgad before dawn, far enough that even the Mughals wouldn't find them easily.
The system map offered some guidance, showing a small, wooded area to the south where they could hide temporarily. But it was still a long way off, and they were moving slowly—Sambhaji was limping, his injuries clearly worse than the MC had initially realized.
The weight of responsibility pressed down on the MC. He had saved Sambhaji, but now came the hard part—keeping him alive. His mind flashed with self-doubt. What if he couldn't protect him? What if the Mughals found them before they could reach safety?
He tried to push the thoughts aside. Focus. There was no room for doubt now.
After what felt like hours of silent walking, they reached the edge of a dense forest. The trees loomed tall and dark, offering some cover from any soldiers that might be searching for them. The MC checked the map again—no immediate threats, but the red dots were moving, fanning out from the fort in search of the escaped king.
"They'll be sending out search parties soon," the MC said, his voice hushed as they moved deeper into the trees. "We should hide here for a while, at least until dawn."
Sambhaji, though clearly in pain, nodded. "We must remain unseen," he agreed, his voice calm but filled with the weight of a king who knew all too well the danger they were in.
The MC helped him to a fallen log, where Sambhaji sat down, leaning back against the rough bark. His face was drawn with exhaustion, and the MC could see the toll the past weeks had taken on him. But there was no complaint, no sign of weakness. Sambhaji Raje had endured more than most men ever could, and yet his resolve remained unshaken.
"We'll rest here for a bit," the MC said, crouching down beside him. "I'll keep watch."
Sambhaji remained silent for a moment, his blind eyes staring straight ahead, as though he could still see the world around him. "You speak like a man with knowledge," he said finally, his tone thoughtful. "But there is something about you… something unfamiliar."
The MC froze. Had he been too careless? He had tried to keep his words and actions in line with the time period, but sometimes his modern instincts slipped through. The last thing he needed was for Sambhaji to grow suspicious of him. But what could he say? He couldn't reveal the truth—that he was from the future, sent here with the help of some bizarre technological system.
"I've learned a lot from studying history," the MC replied, choosing his words carefully. "And from learning about great men like you, Raje. That's why I knew I had to act. I couldn't let you die."
Sambhaji tilted his head slightly, as though weighing the truth of his words. After a long pause, he finally nodded. "Your words are strange, but your actions speak for themselves. You've earned my trust… for now."
The MC let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. For now was good enough. As long as Sambhaji trusted him, they had a chance.
They sat in silence for a while, the forest around them alive with the sounds of night—crickets chirping, leaves rustling in the wind, the occasional hoot of an owl. The MC's mind, however, was far from peaceful. His thoughts raced, trying to figure out their next move. Hiding in the forest wouldn't be enough. They needed a plan—something that could keep them one step ahead of the Mughal forces.
"What's next?" the MC wondered aloud, more to himself than to Sambhaji. "We can't stay hidden forever."
Sambhaji, though tired, spoke with the clarity of a man who had spent his life on the battlefield. "We need allies," he said, his voice low but firm. "Men who are loyal to me. Men who can help us reclaim what is ours."
The MC nodded slowly, the gears in his mind turning. Loyal commanders. Trusted men. He had read about them in the history books—warriors and ministers who had stood by Sambhaji's side during the darkest days of the Maratha Empire. Men like Santaji Ghorpade, Dhanaji Jadhav, and others.
The system map flickered, and the MC saw faint icons in the distance, marking small villages and hideouts where some of Sambhaji's allies might be. We can't just walk up to them, though. He knew how precarious their situation was—Sambhaji's capture had shaken the loyalty of many, and the suspicion of betrayal loomed large. They needed to tread carefully.
"I know a few places," the MC said quietly. "There are loyal men out there, but we have to be cautious. Not everyone can be trusted. You said it yourself—Ganoji Shirke betrayed you. There could be others."
Sambhaji's jaw tightened at the mention of Shirke. "There are always those who hunger for power," he said grimly. "But true loyalty cannot be bought."
The MC nodded, his respect for the Raje growing with every word. Even after all he had been through, Sambhaji's faith in the loyalty of his true followers hadn't wavered. This is why the Marathas fought so fiercely. This is why they revered their king.
They sat in silence for a while longer, the weight of their situation hanging heavy between them. The MC knew they couldn't rest for long—the Mughals would soon begin their search in earnest. But for now, they had a moment of peace, a chance to catch their breath and plan their next move.
As the first light of dawn began to creep over the horizon, the MC stood, his muscles stiff from sitting for so long. "We need to move soon," he said, offering a hand to Sambhaji. "There's a village nearby. We can start there."
Sambhaji took his hand, rising to his feet with a grimace. "Lead the way."
And so, with the rising sun at their backs, they disappeared into the forest, the shadows of Bahadurgad behind them. The road ahead would be long, fraught with danger and uncertainty. But as they moved forward, the MC couldn't help but feel a sense of purpose. This is only the beginning, he thought.
Sambhaji Raje was free. Now, it was time to reclaim his kingdom.