Chapter 68: The Night of Fire
The moon hung low and blood-red over Hyderabad as Sher Singh gave the order.
"Attack."
Ventura's cannons unleashed a final, earth-shaking barrage, pounding the breaches until the gaps widened into ruined jaws of shattered brick and dust. Then the Sikh host surged forward — wave after wave of hardened infantry, Gorchara cavalry, and fierce Afghan irregulars pouring through the northern and eastern breaches like a steel flood.
Sher Singh led from the front on his black stallion, khanda raised high. "No mercy for those who resist! Take the palace! The city falls tonight!"
Ventura directed the assault with cold precision from the command post. "Push them hard! Don't let them regroup in the streets!"
Inside the outer city, savage street fighting erupted. Defenders who still had strength fought desperately from rooftops and alleyways, but weeks of hunger, thirst, and Nau Nihal's relentless raids had broken their spirit. Many threw down their weapons and begged for quarter. Others fled deeper into the city, spreading terror and chaos.
At the same moment, thirty miles south, three red flares exploded in the night sky — Sher Singh's signal.
Nau Nihal Singh's face hardened with grim purpose. "This is it. Mount up!"
One hundred and nineteen riders formed up behind him. They were no longer just raiders — they were vengeance given form.
"Jawahar," Nau Nihal ordered, "take forty men and block the eastern fork. I'll drive straight for the southern gate with the rest. We crush them between our blades and the main army. No escape."
Jawahar grinned like a wolf. "They wanted a war. Now they get one."
With a thunder of hooves, Nau Nihal's shadow force charged north toward Hyderabad.
The timing was devastating.
As Sher Singh's troops fought their way toward the inner walls, the Talpur commanders attempted one final, desperate breakout through the southern gate — hoping to escape with the remaining treasury, key nobles, and whatever dignity they had left.
They ran straight into Nau Nihal Singh.
His riders slammed into the fleeing column like a khanda through silk. Nau Nihal led the charge himself, sword flashing under moonlight as he cut down the first standard-bearer. Jawahar's group hit the rear, splitting the column in two.
Chaos consumed the enemy.
Talpur officers shouted contradictory orders. Some tried to fight. Most abandoned their loads and fled toward the marshes. Nau Nihal's riders flowed through them with merciless efficiency — disciplined, battle-hardened, and fueled by weeks of righteous vengeance.
Nau Nihal personally dueled a Talpur noble on horseback, their blades ringing in the night. He feinted left, then drove his sword through the man's guard, ending the fight cleanly.
"Take the treasury wagons!" he roared. "Burn everything else!"
His men seized three heavy chests of gold and jewels while setting fire to supply carts and official documents. The breakout column disintegrated completely. Those who fought died. Those who fled into the marshes were hunted down.
By the time the moon climbed higher, the southern escape route was littered with bodies and burning wreckage. Only a handful of enemies escaped to carry tales of total disaster back to the dying city.
Nau Nihal lost just five men in the fierce night battle.
Back at the hidden camp, as wounds were bandaged and horses watered, a breathless Raaz messenger arrived.
The note was urgent:
Northern breach taken. Sikh forces fighting in the outer city. Street fighting underway. Amirs have lost control. Many defenders throwing down weapons. Sher Singh requests you move closer and prepare for the final hammer blow at dawn.
Jawahar read it aloud and let out a triumphant laugh. "We're almost there, brothers! The city is cracking wide open."
Nau Nihal stood before his men, firelight dancing across his hardened features.
"You have done what few thought possible. A small force operating deep behind enemy lines has helped bring an entire kingdom to its knees. Sher Singh has sent word — the final hour is near. Stay ready. When the signal comes, we charge from behind and crush whatever remains between our blades and Ventura's guns."
The warriors answered with a single, powerful roar that echoed across the night.
Inside Hyderabad, the situation had descended into nightmare.
Flames rose from multiple districts. Sikh troops fought house-to-house in the outer quarters. The Amirs' palace was in uproar — some pleading for surrender, others preparing a final suicidal stand. Messengers who reached the southern gates returned with horror stories of Sikh devils waiting in the darkness.
The long resistance was collapsing.
Sher Singh received confirmation of Nau Nihal's successful interception just before midnight.
He turned to Ventura, eyes burning with anticipation.
"Prepare for the final push at first light. Nau Nihal will hit them from the rear at the exact moment we strike the inner walls."
Ventura saluted sharply. "Hyderabad will fall tomorrow."
Sher Singh looked south, where fresh fires marked Nau Nihal's latest victory.
"Yes," he said quietly. "It will."