Reborn In 17th century India with Black Technology

On the 6th of October 1655,

City of Ahmedabad, the capital of Gujarat, Mughal Empire.

*Crash*

The sound of utensils and pottery breaking reverberated from inside the palace, which was established by Ahmad Shah, the individual who bestowed the name Ahmedabad upon the city in the 15th century.

Within the castle, a group of five men had congregated, their faces contorted with ugly expressions. One among them, consumed by rage, hurled objects around in a futile attempt to alleviate his anger.

This individual, clad in noticeably expensive attire crafted from premium materials, was none other than Nizamuddin, the Noble Lord entrusted with the administration of Ahmedabad. He served as a representative of His Majesty, Emperor Mohammad V.

"What do you mean there are no reinforcements? I gave you one job, and that is to request His Majesty for reinforcements. Right now, half of Gujarat has been occupied, our Navy has been destroyed, and the enemy is at our doorstep. Despite all of this happening, what is the meaning of the Empire not sending reinforcements?

Is the region of Gujarat not important anymore?" Nizamuddin yelled furiously at the middle-aged man.

The man who was on the other end of this outburst, called Insha, calmly accepted everything, as he had already anticipated this when he informed His Excellency Nizamuddin of the news that no reinforcements would be coming.

Although he knew that whether the reinforcements arrived or not was within his control, he chose to bear the accusations made by Nizamuddin primarily because he knew His Excellency Nizamuddin was stressed due to losing the Navy and important cities in the south of Gujarat. He personally thought that the Empire was making a wrong choice by not sending reinforcements to Ahmedabad.

But, as he said, he wasn’t the one who was deciding these things; he was just the middleman between the imperial capital and the various administrative regions.

Insha, the representative of the government for Ahmedabad, replied with a helpless expression after noticing His Excellency Nizamuddin cooling down a little. "Your Excellency, the Empire is also helpless. Reports have been coming from various parts of the Empire about simultaneous invasions.

Various administrative regions of the Empire have reported that they have been attacked and needed reinforcement simultaneously. Some estimates even suggest that the whole southern border of the empire is under attack by almost half a million troops "

Nizamuddin collapsed onto his seat, unable to believe it was true. Insha continued, "But due to the empire not being prepared beforehand, the military was not able to be mobilized quickly. Hence, it was only the city defence units of various administrations that resisted this invasion by the Dakshin Bhartiya Empire.

And unfortunately, the strength of these city defence units, Ahem!, is better not to be talked about."

Nizamuddin, desperate, exclaimed, "Then what is the empire’s plan to counterattack? Will we just let the Bhartiya Empire run rampant?"

Insha shook his head and replied, "No, Your Excellency, it is not the case. With my estimation, in only a few days, an army of no less than 100 thousand people will be mobilized."

Nizamuddin’s hopes rose again as he asked, "Will the Empire send this army to us as reinforcement?"

Insha thought for a while, frowned, and replied, "It is hard to say, Your Excellency. The Empire is being attacked from multiple directions. I cannot be sure where His Majesty Muhammad will position his army next."

Seeing the defeated expression on Diwan Nizamuddin, Insha felt like he had to at least give some good news. "However, Your Excellency, I have obtained permission from His Majesty the Emperor for you to use your power to increase taxes as you see fit and recruit as many soldiers as you like to the city defence unit."

Nizamuddin, upon hearing these words, felt a surge of energy coursing through him. Finally, there was something he could take action on. Contemplating the instructions sent by His Majesty, he began to believe that there was a feasible solution. However, just as he was gaining confidence, a sudden interruption halted his thoughts...

"Your Excellency, please don’t do that," came a voice from the man seated to his right at the table.

With a frown, Nizamuddin questioned, "Wazarat, why do you say that? We are already at the end of our rope,"

Wazarat put on a panicked expression as he explained, "Your Excellency, an increase in taxes will ruin us before those hateful Bhartiya invaders even reach us."

Nizamuddin was taken aback by this statement. ’How could that be?’ he thought. "What do you mean? Make your intent clear, Wazarat."

"Your Excellency, due to the food shortage and lack of adequate rain at the beginning of the year, the wealth of the common folk has reduced significantly this year. On top of that, due to the Empire’s increase in taxation, it has placed a huge burden on these people. Moreover, we had to increase the tax even more as the Treasury of the Ahmedabad administration was running out."

"Due to this unprecedented increase in taxation, multiple riots broke out among the people, and many rioters also lost their lives when the army intervened. Therefore, increasing the tax again may incite a civilian uprising, and given the current situation, I doubt we’ll be able to suppress it."

Nizamuddin became angry and furious. "How dare these lowlifes revolt against me? I am the one who provides them with everything, from the food they eat to the clothes they wear, the places they stay, and the security they need to live. They owe their lives to me and to the empire. Now that the Empire is in trouble, how dare they not contribute with their meagre lives?"

"Wazarat, don’t worry about these small problems. Increase the tax, as Insha said. At most, if a revolt breaks out, we will suppress it with force, just like we did last year. These scum are extremely weak anyway."

Wazarat nodded his head as he had nothing more to say.

Nizamuddin continued, "Now, the tax money collected will be used to bolster the military of the city." Nizamuddin made a sideways glance at Arz, in charge of the military stationed in Ahmedabad. Theoretically, Nizamuddin should provide the tax money to this man to increase the strength of the military.

However, unfortunately, Nizamuddin knew the truth about the city defence force in their city and in many other cities. For the most part, the leadership roles in many internal security positions are mainly occupied by noble families who had influence over certain regions.

So, most of the time, the internal military of the empire is filled with individuals who have gained their positions due to family support.

Well, Nizamuddin wasn’t one to complain, as he had done the same. He had sent his son to be stationed in Indore.

Coming back to the topic, "A new military unit will be established in order to resist the threat of the Bhartiya Empire, and this unit will be under my direct command," Nizamuddin declared.

Arz wanted to refuse this arrangement, as he believed he should be the one receiving the tax money. However, upon seeing the glaring eyes of Nizamuddin and knowing the strength of his own city guards, he quieted down. But still, he held a grudge. "Let this matter be settled. I will have my family compensated for this disrespect." He thought.

"Alright then, everyone, we have a lot to do and very little time. Now get to work."

As everyone except a single person left the room, Nizamuddin was expecting this person to stay back. Moving closer, Nizamuddin asked in a low voice, as if he feared being overheard, "Barid, is there any possibility of regaining control of the Cambay (Khambhat) port?" Hope and eagerness were palpable in Nizamuddin’s expression.

Sadly, Barid was not one to mince words. Nizamuddin’s hope was dashed as Barid delivered the news with a heavy heart. "I am sorry, Your Excellency," he began solemnly. "I received the news that it was occupied as far back as Four days ago."

*BANG*

Nizamuddin’s face distorted into a rage as he banged his fist loudly onto the table. "If I had known this, I would have arranged for more troops and better defensive strength to be stationed there," he exclaimed.

Barid, who was the intelligence officer for Nizamuddin, comforted his master. "But Your Excellency, you did not want the empire’s attention to fall on that port, did you?"

Nizamuddin nodded his head and replied, "Yes, isn’t that the reason why the port was not secured properly? Because with military involvement, the variables would increase and my operation may be exposed. But now, I have completely lost the channel of wealth. Damn, crow bastards!" He cursed in rage again as he remembered the spice trade route he had secured with Malacca in secrecy.

But now that the Dakshin Bharathiya Empire occupies the Cambay port, he has lost his channel for making money.

It took him a long time to calm down, but he eventually did. After which, he asked Barid, "Is there any other information you have for me?"

Barid paused for a moment, considering his response carefully. "Your Excellency, I’ve noticed some peculiar occurrences in the city," he began. "There are individuals spreading strange rumours and news, quite bizarre really. They speak of the mistreatment of common folk and the tarnishing of their identities.

I’ve even heard whispers of people gathering to defend one of their false god temples against us."

"It did not make sense to me as I do not know what identity these lowly excuse of humans wear, but as far as I observed, these words had a lot of impact on those mud legs."

"Nizamuddin fell into deep thought, pondering what this news could mean. At the same time, Barid suggested, ’However, Your Excellency, I would suggest taking Wazarat’s words more seriously. As far as I observed, these rumours are coming from various people, but all point to one target, and that is us and our rule.

Should the taxation increase suddenly, it might really lead to a citywide rebellion and uprising. Taking this opportunity, the enemy at the door might attack.’"

Nizamuddin was taken aback by these words, but then he began to doubt his own judgment on these lowlifes. ’Was I wrong?’ he began to question himself.

*DONG!*

Nizamuddin’s thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the ringing of a loud bell. A chill ran down Nizamuddin’s spine because this was the signal of the city defence unit, indicating an enemy attack on the city. n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

"How could this happen? I thought we still had a week of time to prepare," Nizamuddin muttered to himself, his back wet with sweat. He was shaken by this development.

P.S. The Next chapter will end the Gujarat arc