Title: The Last Stand of Sambhaji Maharaj
MC's eyes snapped open. The world around him was spinning, a mix of confusion and disorientation. His head throbbed as if struck by a hundred hammers, and his body felt foreign—like he had been transported into someone else's life. As he sat up, the first thing he noticed was the sound of distant war drums, followed by the smell of smoke and earth. It wasn't the clean, cool air of the modern world he had just been in. No. This was something different.
"Where... am I?" he muttered under his breath, his voice rasping as he slowly pushed himself up from the ground. His hands were calloused, the palms rough, as though used to wielding swords and shields. He looked around in a daze, trying to make sense of the situation.
The landscape was harsh—rocky, rugged terrain stretched for miles. In the distance, he could make out the faint outlines of what looked like forts. This wasn't a place he recognized. His mind raced, and then it hit him: he had been transmigrated. His body, his surroundings—they were not his own.
The air was thick with the scent of sweat and earth, of campfires and battle preparations. He was no longer in his own time. He had somehow landed in the middle of a warzone, in the era of the Maratha Empire.
"No way..."
The name Sambhaji Maharaj flashed in his mind. The son of Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj. The thought made his heart skip a beat. He remembered the history he had learned in school, the stories of his bravery, and the way he had been captured and tortured by the Mughals. But he also remembered how the Maratha Empire had never been the same after his tragic end.
"I'm here to stop that," he thought urgently. "I have to save him."
As he stood, the weight of history seemed to press down on him. His clothes were unfamiliar—he was dressed like a soldier of the Maratha army, wearing a simple dhoti and a kurta, a sword slung over his shoulder, and a dagger at his waist.
He was still trying to process the enormity of his situation when a sudden rush of information bombarded his mind.
System Activated: Mission - Prevent the Capture of Sambhaji Maharaj.
The words were clear and unmistakable, flashing before him like an overwhelming revelation. It was as if a voice had spoken to him from another realm. The system—a mysterious force had chosen him for this task.
System: You have been given a chance to alter the course of history. Prevent the capture of Sambhaji Maharaj.
MC's mind swirled. This was not just some strange dream or an alternate reality. He was truly in the past, facing one of the most critical moments in Maratha history. But the question remained: how could he, a complete outsider with no knowledge of the Maratha Empire's inner workings, possibly influence such a monumental event?
The system offered no further details, leaving him to figure it out on his own. But one thing was clear—he needed allies. And fast.
The sun had begun its descent when MC made his first decision: he would go to the Maratha camp. It was where the heart of the army resided, where the leaders would be. He needed information, allies, anything that could help him prevent the upcoming disaster.
But how could he approach anyone? His face was unfamiliar, his name unknown. No one here would recognize him. If he tried to speak to a commander or officer without a solid reason, he would be treated like a common peasant, or worse, a spy. He couldn't just walk into the heart of the camp and demand help.
MC's eyes darted around as he began to formulate a plan. If he had any chance of being accepted, he would need a cover story. He would have to gain the trust of someone in the camp—someone who had access to the high-ranking officers.
The answer came to him in an instant. The system.
System: Skill Obtained - Persuasion (Level 1).
MC grinned as he felt a strange surge of confidence wash over him. This was exactly what he needed. With the system's help, he could now persuade others, make his way into the camp without raising suspicion.
The next morning, MC approached the camp from a distance, walking with purpose and trying to keep a low profile. He could see the soldiers milling about, preparing for an upcoming conflict, sharpening their weapons, discussing strategy. His heart raced with each step as he passed through the perimeter.
When he was close enough to the edge of the camp, MC spotted a man walking alone—someone who looked important. His attire was distinct, his posture commanding. The man was a senior officer, but it wasn't just his rank that made MC notice him. The officer had a presence, an aura of authority that marked him as a person of influence in the camp.
MC took a deep breath and approached the officer with an air of confidence, making sure to keep his eyes focused on the man and not show any hesitation.
"Commander," MC said, bowing slightly. "I have urgent news from the front lines. I believe the Mughals are planning something dangerous. We must move swiftly to protect Maharaj."
The officer stopped and turned to him, his sharp eyes studying MC for a moment. For a second, MC thought he might be caught, but then the officer spoke.
"Who are you?" he asked, his tone cool but curious. "You're not from my regiment."
"I am a scout, sir," MC replied quickly, taking a chance. "I was in the surrounding hills and overheard a few of the Mughal soldiers talking. They have a plan to strike at the Maharaj's camp."
The officer regarded him thoughtfully for a moment, then nodded.
"Very well," he said. "You will accompany me. If what you say is true, we may need all the help we can get."
With that, MC was in. He followed the officer to a small command tent, where the Maratha officers were discussing their plans. The officer introduced MC as someone who had vital information, and MC played his part, offering vague details of the Mughals' movements.
He had gained their trust. Now, he needed to stay close to the action, learn more, and prepare himself for the impending mission: to prevent Sambhaji Maharaj's capture.
As the days passed, MC observed everything closely. The Mughals were closing in. The tension was palpable. He would need to act soon, and with the system's help, he began to devise a plan. He was just one man, with no real power, but he had the knowledge of what was to come. He knew the key to saving Sambhaji Maharaj lay in outsmarting the Mughal forces and using the element of surprise.
He just had to stay alive long enough to put his plan into action.
End of Chapter 1.