## Chapter 20: The Battle at the Bedrock Wall—A Clash of Titans
The earth trembled beneath the march of two colossal armies poised on the plains outside Arun's fabled bedrock wall. On one side, the immortal emperor's legion—a vast force of one million men arrayed in perfect discipline, infused with centuries-honed experience and the subtle magic of command blocks. On the other, the combined might of the emergent sultanates preparing to rewrite the destiny of the subcontinent, a fierce host numbering over 800,000—warriors hardened in mountain passes and desert sands, seasoned by relentless conflict.
*** Dawn on the Battlefield
As dawn broke with a pale golden light smearing across the horizon, warriors on both sides sharpened their weapons and whispered prayers. The sun rose slowly, throwing long shadows between the two enormous battle lines. The bedrock wall rose imposingly behind Arun's forces—a silent giant impervious to siege but unable to shield the sprawling battle unfolding beyond its shadow.
The air was thick with tension—smoke from campfires mingled with the scent of sweat and oil—while banners fluttered, heralding kings, generals, and the immortal soul's presence. In the emperor's command tents, the enchanted command blocks pulsed faintly, invisible engines poised to shape fate in a battle that would echo through
***Clash of Steel and Spirit
With the first blast of trumpets, the sultanate armies surged forward like a thunderous tide. Cavalry charged in polished armor, lances couched under arms honed for impact. Infantry advanced with pikes and swords, filling the ground between the armies like a writhing sea.
Arun's legion held steady—a vast defensive formation of spearmen, archers, and elite cavalry. Hidden command blocks summoned swirling dust storms, masking the legions' movements and disrupting the enemy's formations. Flames leapt from stone towers, a fiery curtain that repelled initial assaults, yet the sultans' warriors pressed on with a fury born of desperation and faith.
The clash was thunderous. Steel rang as swords met shields, horse hooves thundered across battered earth, and archers on both sides loosed volleys that darkened the skies. The ground beneath them became churned mud and blood-soaked soil, the battle cries rising fierce and relentless.
**The Tide Turns
Hours turned into a relentless day of carnage. Sultanate warriors called upon faith, charging again and again to breach the sacred wall of Arun's empire. But the immortal emperor's tactics, honed across centuries of warfare, proved formidable.
Command blocks in hidden bastions cast bursts of lightning, sending crackling death through sultanate ranks; gates sealed magically at critical moments, evading enemy sappers. Cavalry struck deep into enemy flanks, shattering formations and cutting off supplies. Still, the sultanate forces fought with fierce determination—their faith as blazing as the emperor's magic.
Yet the losses mounted on both sides. Each attack was met with brutal counterstrikes; each charge soaked rivers of blood. The mighty host of Arun suffered grievous casualties, as did the invading forces. A million souls fell in a grim testament to battle's cruelty—a wasteland of broken banners, shattered armor, and silenced warriors.
***The Breaking Point
As the sun dipped low, the battlefield became a grim tableau of blood and sacrifice. With dwindling strength and morale, the sultanate commanders gave the order to retreat—wise enough to preserve what remained of their forces for another day.
The retreat was chaotic and costly. Arun's forces launched a furious pursuit, pushing the weary enemy back towards the shadows of distant hills. But the bedrock wall still held firm, unbreached and unyielding—a silent guardian to the empire's heart.
***Aftermath: Victory Forged in Blood
The cost was staggering. Almost half of Arun's million-strong army lay dead or gravely wounded. Sultanate losses were equally devastating. The battle was not a decisive conquest but a brutal stalemate—and a reminder that even immortality and magic could not render an empire invincible against human will and faith.
Amid the ruin, Arun's immortal soul reflected on the fragility of power. The bedrock wall, impregnable though it was, was only a symbol of the empire's resilience—not an assurance of eternal peace. The sultanates, though bloodied, would regroup, rebuild, and return, driven by purpose and prophecy.
The plains bore silent witness to a turning point, the beginning of a new era where mortal ambition surged against immortal legacy—a saga etched in blood, fire, and unyielding stone.