Reborn In 17th century India with Black Technology
Chapter 896 - 896: Ottoman Looses Azerbaijan & Diyarbakir (2/3)

First theatre of war, Diyarbakır, the Ottoman Empire

"Pah!"

Nazim Khan was panting heavily, jolted awake by one of his subordinates. His face was pale, and cold sweat soaked his back. He'd struggled to sleep the night before, tossing and turning for hours. Only a short while ago had he finally managed to get some rest, and now, being woken up so suddenly, he was furious.

"What?" he growled, his eyes taking on a fierce light.

Asim shuddered, "Um, Pasha, we received... we received intelligence from the scouts that the alliance army has already approached the southern riverbank, 20 km from the city."

Nazim Khan was immediately enraged. "Damn it!!" He hurriedly got up from the bed, dressed up, and left for the barracks.

"Has there been any reply from the capital?" His voice was hopeful. Unfortunately, they were crushed mercilessly.

"No, Your Excellency Pasha, we haven't heard back from the capital yet."

"Tsk!"

Nazim was irritated. He knew that the empire was fighting a war with the Russians and the Romans, but still, thinking of facing the Alliance Army, which was finally at his doorstep, he couldn't help but shudder.

He was at his wits' end. With no other choice, he gritted his teeth and wore his leather armour, chainmail, helmet, and went to the fortress, rallying up the troops along the way.

---

Twenty kilometres away, the bank of the Tigris River

Ezidi Serwan was personally commanding half of the Chakravarthi Legion, comprised of nearly 120 thousand troops, marching with eagerness to besiege Diyarbakır.

As he got closer to the city, his eyes radiated an intense desire to kill. When he knew how his father was backstabbed and how the whole settlement where his people lived was burned, he vowed to take revenge on the Ottoman Empire—and more specifically the nobles of Diyarbakır—who were the ones responsible for facilitating the ambush of his father by the Safavid Empire nobles.

When it happened, Ezidi Serwan, along with all other survivors of Yezidi extermination, hated the Safavid nobles who had started the genocide with their own hands. But they hated the Ottoman nobles more, because they had done the bidding of the Ottomans for many years, causing trouble for the Safavids internally. But when their numbers kept dwindling and their usefulness began to fade, instead of providing them support for years of service, the Ottomans decided to use them as pawns for a political exchange.

This was unacceptable

Knowing the strength of the Ottoman Empire and even the powerful Ottoman nobles, he had no hope of ever getting vengeance, especially not when the population of his tribe had been reduced to less than a million, living as wild animals in the mountains and caves.

Now everything is different. He not only has the will to destroy the enemy who had tried to annihilate his whole race—he has the ability as well.

"Set up the artillery positions and rain down hellfire." He roared.

The composure he maintained in all of his previous battles was nowhere to be seen.

The military officers and artillerymen looked at each other in surprise, as they had never seen the commander so riled up. But for some reason, the Yazidis in their team were extremely riled up as well, almost as if they were bloodthirsty monsters possessing human bodies. They realised that there was a blood feud between the Yazidis and the top nobles in Diyarbakır. With this realisation, the efficiency of the army suddenly increased as everyone pushed themselves to their limits, not wanting to let down their Yazidi brethren.

The cannons they had brought with them were the field artillery of the Bharatiya Empire that were used to protect their own borders.

"Clear!!"

"FIRE!!"

"BOOM"

The 600-kilogram machine of war began to fire projectiles, cutting through the air and exploding on contact with the fortress wall—20,000 Varaha per shot at a time.

---

The third theatre of war, Qazvin, the Ottoman Empire

Evenings are a time which should have been the liveliest time of the day, when men come home from work after a tiring day, women dress neatly and cook up something delicious, while children go out on the streets and practically rule it.

But all these things appeared very distant on some of the streets in Qazvin. There was absolute silence; not even the beggars could be seen. Apart from the stray animals and flies that were sucking on the delicious bloodstains in various corners of the street, there was no living being in sight.

Suddenly, the sound of horse hooves was heard, and as if the street had a life of its own, it became quieter than before—not even the occasional rustling sounds were audible.

"Drag everyone out and quickly take back the supplies from these thieves," a middle-aged man wearing Turkic attire commanded, his voice stern.

Shortly, screams of pleading and begging were heard echoing through the street, causing people hiding in the houses to close their ears and shiver in the corners.

Men who wore unique checkered clothes and women wearing colourful headwear were dragged onto the street. The soldiers did not show any mercy despite the begging and pleading.

"Please, sir, let us go! We haven't committed any sin!"

"Lords, lords, you have to be mistaken! Please let us go—we are no robbers!"

Hearing the pleading, the middle-aged man on a horse came forward with a scowl on his face.

He kicked the man who was trying to get closer to him and spat in disgust. "How dare you claim you are not robbers? If you're not robbers, then what are those?" His hand pointed towards the grain, utensils and the tools that were taken out of the house, as he growled.

Both men and women stood stunned. They knew that he was just trying to find fault—to make up a reason to take everything they owned—but still, they were desperate. The man once again tried to plead for mercy, but he was ruthlessly kicked away, this time so hard that he even broke a few ribs, coughing up blood.

The woman continued to cry bitterly, clutching the cross in her hand and prayed with the utmost devotion, hoping for her Lord to have pity on their lives and save them.

What started as only a couple's cry of desperation soon engulfed the whole street. Children and the elderly were ruthlessly pushed onto the road, with everything they owned being snatched. Even a child who wanted to protest for hurting his mother was beaten so badly that he became unconscious.

People say that even an animal, when pushed to the corner, fights back no matter how weak it is, not to mention humans. But unfortunately, when the Assyrians tried to fight back, the answer they received was a swift death by gunshot.

The sad and miserable howls soon attracted the people from all over the city. They came carrying whatever weapons they could pick up—dull swords, axes, some women even brought a rolling pin—but they were shocked because they saw that it was their own soldiers brutally pulling out all the Assyrian people from their houses, beating them mercilessly.

A lot of people felt pity and sadness. They were neighbours after all, living with each other from generation to generation. Although they had friction and quarrels with each other, it had never gotten to the point where they wanted each other dead. A kind, elderly man went forward to plead with the middle-aged soldier who looked to be in charge, trying to convince him that he had gotten the wrong people, convincing him that he was mistaken.

However, the middle-aged man, looking at the old fool who came forward to plead for the infidels, felt disgust rising in his heart. How dare he plead for the infidels?

In anger, he stomped his foot on the hand of an old Assyrian woman who was trying to plead for mercy.

Maybe the bone was broken—she cried miserably.

The middle-aged man got annoyed and wanted to dissect the old hag immediately, but he held back. He had his orders. He could not take out the trash in the city because what if some of it got spilt and spread its foul odour?

"Listen here! These are not innocent people. They are thieves who have stolen from the empire. Their sins are unforgivable, and if any one of you wants to plead for them, your fate will be the same."

There was no explanation or proof in his words, but the threat was real because the old man who came forward to plead for the Assyrians was taken by the neck and dragged onto a carriage.

"Load up these scum as well," the middle-aged man growled.

"Damn infid—?"

Before his voice could fall, a gunshot was heard. His eyes widened. He looked down—there was a viscous fluid flowing out of his neck. He slowly lost consciousness and fell back, hitting a dull sword that was taken out of the Assyrians' houses before, and cracking his head in the process.

"Bang!"

"Bang!"

Gunshots started to ring out more frequently, the Turks were panicked. They had only come with basic armour—nothing that could protect against bullets—not to mention they were not prepared for a battle either. Some Turks immediately fell to the ground after seeing their companions being butchered one after another, not even seeing the shadow of the enemy, while others tried to flee but to no avail, as with a yelp, they fell on the ground dead.

The people who had initially come to see what was going on quickly scattered after their soldiers were being killed mercilessly.

The Assyrians were stunned. They wanted to run, but they did not know where. They wanted to live, but they did not know how. There was absolute mayhem.

Soon, a group of men came out of the shadows. Their clothes were similar to the ones worn by people in the city, but because they did not hurt anyone, even the ones who tried to run away in panic, who were only brought back and not hurt in any way, the group of 100 to 150 people started to calm down. There was silence for a long time. The battle had ended too quickly. Apart from the ones who lost their family members trying to fight back, who were still crying, no one spoke and looked at the new group of people with hope and vigilance.

"All of you have to evacuate now. Contact all the relatives you have in the city. We will take you out of here safe and sound. Only carry with you what is of most importance. And finally," the man's tone softened, bringing in some warmth to the hearts of people who thought that everyone wanted them dead, "you all are safe now."

Similar scenes were happening in various cities in Azerbaijan, Diyarbakır, and Karabakh. Armenians, Yazidis, Kurds, and Assyrians were all contacted by the special forces that had set off earlier.

To be completed...