Nightfall ..Hills Above the Western Outpost
The wind had died.
Only the faint creaking of trees and the distant clang of metal drifted through the night air.
Bahubali crouched low at the ridge, eyes fixed on the glowing lights of the outpost below. Black-armored guards paced the perimeter. Smoke rose from forge towers. The distant sound of hammering meant the siege weapons were near completion.
Tanthav joined him, panting quietly.
"There are four machines. Massive. They call them the Ash Blades—able to cut stone walls in half. If they reach Mahishmati, no fortress will stand."
Bahubali nodded, his voice low. "Then we end it tonight."
Aravan crouched beside them, shoulder now bound tight, blade at the ready.
"Five of us. Fifty of them."
"Then we need precision," Bahubali replied. "Not numbers."
He pointed toward a pile of barrels near the armory.
"Those crates are filled with the fuel they use to power the flame-spears. If we ignite that… the rest falls."
He turned to his men, face fierce and steady.
"No war is won without risk. But if we succeed, we buy the rebellion time. And we take from Bhallaladeva the fire he thinks he owns."
The Silent Entry
The team split in two.
Bahubali, Aravan, and a scout named Revan scaled the southern wall where vines had broken through the stone. Two others—Tanthav and Malya, the youngest of the rebels—moved through the drainage trench beneath the eastern fence.
They crept past guards. Passed shadows. Their breath was shallow. Hearts steady.
Revan signaled. A guard turned the corner
Before he could speak, Bahubali clamped a hand over his mouth and drove his blade in with swift, quiet precision. The body fell without a sound.
The team pressed forward.
They reached the fuel crates.
Bahubali pulled a flint stone from his belt.
"Once we light this, we run."
Aravan smirked. "Or we burn."
Moments Later – The Explosion
Tanthav and Malya had reached the control gears. They jammed them with stone spikes, stopping the lift systems from moving the siege towers.
Aravan dropped oil-soaked rags around the crates. Bahubali gave a final glance at the forge—rows of armor, half-built, abandoned.
He struck the flint.
The spark caught.
The flames erupted fast.
Then the entire courtyard trembled as one of the fuel crates exploded, sending fire into the sky.
Panic followed.
Guards shouted. Alarms rang. Steel clashed.
The rebels ran.
Flaming debris rained down as the towers ignited one by one. Ash fell like snow.
The Escape
Bahubali led his team through the side gate. But at the final turn, three enemy soldiers blocked their path. No words were exchanged.
Aravan took one down with a throwing dagger. Bahubali engaged the second in brutal hand-to-hand combat, blades clashing, fists landing heavy blows.
The last guard lunged at Malya.
Tanthav stepped between them—and took the strike.
The young rebel screamed as Tanthav dropped to one knee, bleeding heavily. Bahubali grabbed him, hoisting him over his shoulder.
"We go now!" he shouted.
They vanished into the forest, the fire still roaring behind them.
Hours Later – The Camp's Edge
By dawn, they returned.
Exhausted. Bloodied. But victorious.
Tanthav was placed in the healer's hut. His wound was deep but not fatal. Malya hadn't spoken a word since they returned—still shaken by what she had seen.
Devasena came to Bahubali, her hands trembling as she touched his face.
"You're hurt."
He nodded. "But the weapons are gone."
She smiled through tears.
"And our people?"
"They still have a chance."
Final Scene ..Inside Bhallaladeva's Throne Room
The firelight in the palace glared across Bhallaladeva's armor as he struck the wall with his mace.
"Four siege towers. Gone in one night," his advisor said. "They outmaneuvered us."
The king turned, eyes burning.
"Then we don't send weapons next time."
He stepped closer.
"We send fear."
He reached for a sealed scroll.
"Release the Widow's Legion.".The advisor paled.
"They've not been summoned in years."
Bhallaladeva's voice dropped to a growl.
"Then let the world remember why they were buried."