Walking into the Net

Boonpar Port was a harbor built by France, once the world's largest colonial empire. To ensure their perpetual rule over Karaikal, the French had constructed extensive permanent fortifications there, even installing quick-firing batteries specifically designed to counter fast-moving ships.

However, these antiques from over two centuries ago appeared utterly fragile under the assault of the Austrian-held Tranquebar colonial army and the "Anti-Drug Crusaders" regiment.

Kiran Vasje's pride-and-joy guard collapsed at the first touch. Those five hundred cavalrymen, meant to be his trump card, were now miles away, though their direction of travel was conveniently opposite to the battlefield.

"Damn it! What is going on?!"

Kiran Vasje saw the smoke rising from the direction of the port, but he could not comprehend what had transpired. After all, the surrounding areas were merely small native states, and Britain was currently fully occupied with suppressing rebellions deep in the interior.

Theoretically, only Karaikal State should have been in a position to bully others; the surrounding small states ought to have been thanking their lucky stars just to avoid being beaten.

Yet, seeing soldiers fleeing in disarray and civilians gripped by panic everywhere, Kiran Vasje grabbed a deserter in a rage and demanded, "What is happening?"

The good mood Kiran Vasje had enjoyed after just finalizing a major business deal had vanished, replaced by a towering fury. He wished he could tear the invaders to pieces and serve them as a side dish for his wine.

In fact, Kiran Vasje had actually done such a thing before, though that was back on the day he usurped the throne.

"Kshatriya Brahmins! They've attacked!" the soldier stammered, his expression frantic.

Kiran Vasje drew his scimitar, hacked it down into the deserter's head, and held the severed skull high.

"This is the fate of those who flee!