Be a lord in the world of Indian mythology

Chapter 99 Riot

The night, as dark as thick ink, heavily enveloped the Dalit temporary settlement on the outskirts of Mittal village.

The low, dilapidated huts stood side by side, their thatched roofs rustling in the night wind. The ground was a mixture of mud, withered grass, and scattered debris, and the air was filled with the distinctive stench and musty smell of the lower-class slaves.

Hundreds of newly arrived Dalits were crammed into a small space, most of them curled up and fast asleep, exhausted from days of travel, with little strength left to even turn over.

In the crowd, a man with an unusual build suddenly convulsed, then his eyes widened, and he gasped for breath as he woke up from a nightmare.

His name is Sand Eagle. He is an eagle-man from a different race and was once a high-ranking warrior of a powerful tribe in the Northeast.

Still shaken, his chest heaved violently, and cold sweat streamed down his rough skin, soaking the thin rags he wore.

The nightmare from just now was still vividly imprinted in my mind: in the sky above, it seemed as if an ancient behemoth was tearing the heavens apart, and a god who controlled thunder looked down on the mortal realm, with divine punishments crashing down one after another.

On the ground, Brahmins, dressed in magnificent robes and holding scriptures, stood in rows, chanting majestic incantations. The divine pressure was overwhelming, planting fear into the hearts of every living being.

The Kshatriyas charged ahead, their swords flashing and clashing.

Relatives and friends of the same clan, and people who lived and worked together in the tribe, fell one by one in pools of blood, their warm blood soaking the earth.

He fought desperately, but his body was buried under layers of corpses. Thick blood poured into his mouth and nose, and the cold, suffocating feeling, along with despair, dragged him step by step into an abyss.

"No..." The roar from his dream still echoed in his ears. Desert Eagle raised his hand to touch his chest, where the old wound still throbbed, reminding him of the tragic past of his tribe's destruction and the deaths of his people.

Looking around, there was no divine punishment or a battlefield of slaughter, only a group of Dalits with similar fates to him, sleeping soundly in the darkness.

The desert eagle slowly propped itself up, using its long, hooked beak—a feature characteristic of eagles—to brush aside the tangled feathers blocking its view.

He was born with an eagle's head and a human body. The thick feathers that were originally on his body had been completely plucked off by years of whipping and abuse, leaving his bald skin covered with old and new scars.

His bizarre appearance made him stand out even among the oddly shaped Dalits.

Since his tribe was conquered by the forces under the Brahma system, he was reduced to the lowest-ranking Dalit. He was first tortured and had his feathers plucked in the conquered city-states, and lived a life of humiliation in the most filthy places. After countless years, he was eventually sold to various city-states.

Day after day, they were beaten and trampled on, driven around like cattle and horses, and treated worse than livestock on the street.

The harsh shackles were like a brand, etched onto the bodies of all the slaves.

Even though his physical body was ravaged, a flame that refused to be extinguished still burned deep within the Desert Eagle's soul.

That was the last remaining will of the entire Eagleman tribe, the dying wish entrusted to him by tens of thousands of tribesmen.

He remained patient and charade, concealing all his sharpness, and living a numb life like other resigned Dalits.

By keeping a low profile, he fooled one slave owner after another, barely surviving his dark and hopeless life of enslavement.

He was unwilling to die in a daze. The deep-seated hatred of the tribe's destruction and the lofty ideal of reviving the tribe sustained him through one desperate day and night after another.

There were also a few subtle movements around them, and several Dalits who had traveled with Desert Eagle and were equally unwilling to give up woke up one after another.

These people were either remnants of tribes or rebels unwilling to be enslaved, and were completely different from the second and third generation Dalits who had been enslaved for generations and had long since resigned themselves to their fate.

Along the way, they tested each other, silently forming a secret alliance, finding warmth in each other's despair, and waiting for the opportunity to escape their shackles.

Fortunately, after arriving in the new village, they were not separated and were able to encourage each other in the same hut.

Desert Eagle looked up and peered through the drafty wall at the outskirts of the settlement.

The defenses of this so-called Mittal village do not appear to be very strong!

Recalling the villages they had passed through in the past, the slave camps were all heavily guarded, with overseers patrolling day and night with whips in hand, and any slight disturbance would result in a severe beating.

But the camp in Mittal village was quite different: although there were sentries on the outskirts, the guards were also Dalits, and there were very few of Brahma's servants.

It's clear that the lords here don't seem to regard the lower-class slaves as filthy, and their treatment is far less harsh than in other territories.

The treatment they received during the day further fueled the ambitions of Desert Eagle and his crew.

After a long journey, everyone thought they would be beaten and given scraps, but to their surprise, they were greeted with warm soup, plenty of rice, and even a few pieces of meat.

Although it wasn't enough to fill him up at every meal, it greatly helped Desert Eagle's weakened body recover. You have to understand, he couldn't even remember the last time he had eaten meat!

This tiny bit of minced meat gradually restored his stamina, which had been depleted over the past few days, and the dormant power within him began to slowly recover.

In the darkness, the group exchanged knowing glances, a flicker of excitement in their eyes. They had been lying in wait for a long time, and now their opportunity seemed to be just around the corner.

The next day, just as dawn was breaking and the morning mist was still lingering over the fields and roads, all the Dalits were summoned together to work.

The assigned task was to repair the main road. The group, armed with simple wooden shovels and stone hoes, first leveled the raised earthen slopes on the road surface, then transported gravel from a distant rocky mountain, tamped down the soil to pave the road, and finally laid down fine soil and repeatedly tamped it down.

Desert Eagle squatted by the roadside, working, its eyes carefully examining the avenue under construction.

The road surface is straight and well-maintained, and the foundation is thick and solid, showing that the person in charge has spared no effort in terms of manpower and resources, intending to use it for a long time.

On this land, Dalit labor was the norm, but the slave owners of the past only exploited them endlessly, making them do the hardest and most tiring work, yet refusing to give them even a full meal.

Here, after each day's work, a fixed amount of rice, side dishes, and a small amount of meat are distributed on time.

Although the work was arduous, there was no unwarranted whipping or torture, and there was no absurdity of slaughtering slaves for the slightest mistake.

Most of the overseers were Dalits, with only a very few Vaishyas and Shudras occasionally patrolling the area.

When the servants of the orthodox caste passed by, their faces carried an innate arrogance and disdain, a demeanor that Desert Eagle had long been accustomed to.

To his surprise, the other party simply watched coldly and did not arbitrarily strike or verbally abuse him.

After spending several days together, Desert Eagle and his companions became increasingly certain that the control over Mital village was relatively relaxed.

While working diligently, they also took the opportunity to gather information from the snippets of conversation among the servants.

Soon, the group figured out the approximate location: this place was located in the southwest of Brahma's territory. As long as they traveled a thousand miles to the east or west, they could completely escape the control of Brahma's system.

This news ignited the passion of all those who longed to escape. As long as they fled the village, hiding by day and moving by night to evade capture, they could regain their freedom and no longer be Dalits at the mercy of others.

Desert Eagle clenched its rough hands, its hooked beak tightening slightly, and its escape plan gradually took shape.

That afternoon, most of the supervisors were transferred to other places for inspection, leaving only one Shudra servant on duty at the entire road construction site.

With the defenses so weak, the perfect opportunity had finally arrived.

Desert Eagle no longer held back, his figure suddenly leaping up like an arrow released from a bow. Even though his fighting skills had declined due to years of enslavement, he was still more than capable of dealing with an ordinary servant.

He lunged forward, grabbed the bewildered Shudra by the neck, and with a powerful twist, easily snapped the man's neck.

The sudden turn of events plunged the entire room into a deathly silence. The numb Dalits didn't even stop what they were doing, nor did they even glance at the Dalit who dared to defy the rules.

Even if they had already guessed their fate... that the enraged Brahma servants would skin them alive and slaughter them all!

But so what? Isn't it a relief?

Desert Eagle stood in the center of the crowd, still shouting at the top of his lungs, trying his best to arouse the fighting spirit of these Dalits.

After all, if everyone scatters and runs away together, their chances of survival will increase significantly!

"Wake up, brothers! Do you still want to be tortured to death here? Don't you yearn for freedom and want to be your own masters?"

"Now, our chance has come! Run! There are exits to the east and west. If we escape, we can break free from slavery and regain our freedom!"

However, the result greatly disappointed Desert Eagle.

Hundreds of Dalits stared blankly at their fallen servants, then at the Desert Eagle, their faces devoid of any longing, only a deep-seated numbness.

Unlike these first-generation Dalits, many Dalits have been corrupted by Brahma for generations. Their fathers, mothers, elders, and family members were all born and died in such a world.

All the torment suffered in this life will surely be repaid in the next life as the blessing of becoming a true Brahma!

Now, killing members of the orthodox caste will inevitably lead to annihilation.

Not only in this life, but also in the next life, they will suffer tribulations and be unable to find liberation!

Therefore, no matter how much Desert Eagle tried to urge them on, the vast majority of people stood still and dared not move. Only a dozen or so of his former allies waited anxiously on the sidelines.

"There's no time to hesitate, the pursuers are almost here!"

Desert Eagle knew that this place was not a good place to stay, so he had no choice but to turn around with his dozen or so companions and run wildly toward the wilderness to the west of the village.

The unusual activity at the construction site quickly spread throughout the village.

Shu Hu, who was coordinating the work across the region, received the news immediately. He was furious when he learned that Dalits had caused trouble, killed the guards, and fled en masse.

As the steward of Dalit, he knew all too well what a great feat it was for the lord to give these people a way to live and food to eat. Even if he searched the entire Brahma realm, he would never find such a generous and benevolent master again!

Such a rebellious act is not only ungrateful, but will also disrupt the order of the entire territory.

Shu Hu acted decisively. He assigned some of his men to stay at the scene, suppress the remaining Dalits who might become agitated, and interrogate them rigorously to find out if there were any accomplices.

He personally led a group of agile men to pursue the fleeing suspects at full speed.

At the same time, people were dispatched on horseback to various sentry posts and settlements in the village to deliver alarms, and all entrances and exits were sealed off to prevent the escapees from fleeing.

Although the fleeing group had regained some of their strength, years of hunger and torment had weakened their foundation, making them far less capable than the pursuit team, which had recovered for a longer period and gradually intensified its military training.

One after another, the fugitives were caught up. Enraged, Treebeard showed no mercy, slashing down with his thick branches. The resisters were seriously injured and killed on the spot, crushed into mud by Treebeard and turned into fertilizer.

As they pursued, their companions fell one after another, until finally, only Desert Eagle remained in the entire fleeing group.

He mustered his last bit of strength and rushed to the edge of the village, where several watchtowers, not yet fully completed, stood prominently, completely blocking the road.

They were pursued from both sides and were in dire straits.

The desert eagle looked around, its gaze sweeping over the forest path, intending to venture into the dense woods to find another way out. Just then, the sound of oxcart wheels came from the nearby forest path.

The people sitting on the oxcart were Kara and another servant, who were on Bim's orders to inspect the construction of the outposts along the village's border.

At this moment, they were unaware of what had happened in the village; they simply muttered to themselves as they continued on their way.

Kara was somewhat frustrated; he was certainly not an ordinary servant.

Long ago, he began to travel around, making a living by gathering and selling intelligence.

It is somewhat famous in the underworld of the surrounding city-states.

Upon hearing that Lord Vijay of Mittal Village planned to restart the ancient trade route to the East, he keenly sensed a tremendous opportunity.

This legendary Eastern trade route is hidden and hard to find. Once you have it in your hands, you can live a life of ease and never have to depend on others or be subservient to them again.

To this end, he deliberately joined the Mittal caravan, disguising himself as an ordinary servant and traveling with the caravan.

She's child lassoed the wolf, and Kara, risking everything, followed Vijay through life and death, making their arduous journey back from the Eastern trade route.

Although they haven't fully gathered all the intelligence, they believe that with this loyalty, they should be able to enter the inner circle of Mittal Village and quietly wait for the next opening of the Eastern trade route.

But something went wrong, and he found himself having to run errands and do odd jobs every day, and also having to be ordered around by Bim and others, which made him very resentful.

Especially that kid named Rajan, he's always pointing fingers and making noise!

When I finally rise to power, I'll definitely teach him a lesson!

Upon reaching the edge of the dense forest, Kara's seasoned intuition instantly sounded the alarm.

A chilling aura emanated from behind; someone was lurking in the shadows, their target clearly him.

He was startled and wondered to himself: Could it be that Vijay had sensed his disloyalty and secretly sent an assassin?

But upon closer reflection, I realized that I have always been cautious in my actions and have never revealed the slightest flaw!

And Vijay wasn't that kind of master!

In a flash, he made a judgment: the other party's move was not meant to kill him, but rather to injure or kidnap him.

What the heck?

Kara gripped the whip tightly; he was not one to be bullied!

But the next second, a bold idea sprouted in my mind.

Since things aren't going well for him, and it seems unlikely that Vijay will restart the Eastern trade route anytime soon, why not take this opportunity to slip away and leave Mittal Village?

If things change in the future, they can make up excuses to return, and they can advance or retreat at will!

Once this thought arose, it was like a venomous snake attaching itself to the heart, from which there was no way to shake it off!

He felt that murderous intent surging forth.

"Be careful!"

Kara suddenly stood up and blocked the servants behind the oxcart.