Chapter 1656 - 1562: The Revival of the Mughal Empire

Chapter 1656: Chapter 1562: The Revival of the Mughal Empire

A tremendous roar came from the north of Delhi City, shattering the sandalwood within the Red Fort Audience Hall into several pieces due to the continuous tremors.

The dust on the palace roof also fell gently, sprinkling upon the crown of Alam II, who was seated on the Golden Throne.

The Mughal Emperor, however, sat with his spine straight, his greyish-white eyes veiled in a thin mist, slowly rolling amber rosary beads between his fingers, as if the thunderous artillery outside the city had nothing to do with him.

The audience hall door was suddenly flung open, but it was not Scindia’s defense officer who entered; it was the royal steward Alberz.

Alam II recognized the difference in the footsteps and slightly raised his head.

In the past, anyone wanting to speak with the Emperor had to do so under Scindia’s officers’ surveillance, but now he heard the footsteps of dozens of people.

The footsteps were very disorderly, with some even running, indicating that the situation outside the city was not good.

"Your Majesty! The Sikhs have stormed into the city through the north gate." Alberz’s voice trembled uncontrollably, "Scindia’s soldiers have all fled. From the tower, I can see the glint of the Sikhs’ bayonets..."

Several old nobles squeezed out from behind him, and you could even see their legs trembling, "Your Majesty, we must flee quickly!"

"If we don’t leave now, we’ll be trapped inside the Red Fort..."

"The Sikhs are extremely brutal and will surely kill us all..."

"Your Majesty, leave through the south gate immediately, head to Agra, and perhaps there will be a chance of survival."

Indeed, Scindia’s main forces were in the Doab dealing with the British, leaving only 1,200 soldiers in Delhi, with more than half being Indian soldiers.

The "Sikh War God" had also maneuvered the city’s garrison through various means and personally led an assault on Delhi’s north gate. Within just one morning, 4,000 Sikh troops flooded into the city.

Alberz signaled the servants to bring in the sedan chair and bowed to the Emperor, saying, "Your Majesty, I have instructed Babak to hold back the enemy forces while we escort you out..."

The rosary in Alam II’s hand paused for a moment, and the corner of his mouth lifted into a very faint curve: "Leave? To where?"

He directed his vacant gaze toward the direction of the noisy crowd, his tone as stagnant as dead water: "From Madura to Punjab, there’s no place left in this world for me to go.

"Therefore, I will go nowhere.

"This Red Fort is both my cage and my final resting place; life or death, it all ends here."

The Mughal nobles, seeing the Emperor’s determination not to leave, anxiously paced around, some even burst into tears. It was not out of undying loyalty but knowing that without the Emperor’s banner, who among the powerful in India would regard them with any esteem? Forget about wealth and glory; even basic sustenance would become a problem.

Suddenly, the artillery fire ceased.

The audience hall instantly plunged into a deathly silence. Everyone looked out the windows in horror.

Soon, the sound of synchronized boots stepping on the ground could be heard coming from the square outside, as if treading on their hearts.

The religious affairs officer Saman was the first to notice an anomaly: "They don’t seem like Sikhs?"

A few nobles gathered at the window, and indeed saw that the soldiers forming ranks as they entered the Red Fort did not wear the Sikhs’ characteristic "large cloth balls" on their heads.

Moreover, those soldiers were very orderly, they hadn’t killed anyone or even damaged any of the glittering palace ornaments.

After about ten minutes, the door of the grand hall was opened once more.

First, thirty or forty soldiers stood erect on either side of the carpet, and then two officers walked in between them, respectfully bowing to Alam II, and spoke in Persian: "O great Protector of the World, your humble servants bring the highest reverence on behalf of the Nawab of Mysore!"

Indeed, the title of Sultan Tipu was self-proclaimed; his official status in the Mughal Dynasty was merely that of a "Nawab," equivalent to a provincial governor.

Strictly speaking, Sultan Tipu should have been a vassal of another Muslim state, Hyderabad, even though his power far exceeded Hyderabad’s.

This is why Tipu, upon receiving the suggestion from the Regent of France, agreed without hesitation—

As long as he secured the Mughal Emperor’s support, he could remedy his biggest shortcoming, and his rule in Southern India would then be legitimate, and many smaller states would voluntarily come to him.

It should be noted that because the titular highest ruler of Mysore was still the Vadhiya Family, Tipu found it extremely difficult to even levy taxes in many areas. Especially among the Hindu populace, there was a fundamental unacceptance of him.

The calmness on Alam II’s face disappeared; he squeezed the rosary tightly, and with a solemn voice, said: "Rise. State your purpose here."

A Mysorean officer motioned for his subordinates to display Tipu’s gifts before the throne and then bowed again: "Your Majesty, my master does not wish to see you humiliated by traitors, so he hopes you will go to the lands truly loyal to you and rule your great empire."

Alam II slightly frowned: "Do you mean Sri Lanka Patana?"

Sri Lanka Patana is currently the capital of Mysore.

The Mysorean officer immediately responded: "No, Your Majesty, that is not your imperial capital. The Nawab will escort you to Pune and build you a new palace in the city."

Pune is the seat of the Peshwa of the Maratha Confederacy, equivalent to its capital. Due to the Maratha Confederacy’s high status among Indian states, it is practically the political hub of India.

The Mysorean officer handed a golden parchment to the royal steward and continued: "The Nawab swears that without Your Majesty’s permission, no soldier may come near Pune. All appointments of imperial officials will be decided solely by you, Your Majesty. And the tax revenue from all provinces of the empire must be fully submitted to Pune.

"Under Your Majesty’s reign, the empire will see a resurgence of its former glory in Pune!"

In Alam II’s murky eyes, there seemed to be a glimmer of light.

He slowly stood up, his lips slightly trembling: "Is what you say true?"

"Your servant swears by our lord!"

Alam II paused for a few seconds, then forcefully waved his hand: "I will accompany you to Pune."

If he could truly secure the support of a powerful Muslim state, it might not be impossible to restore the empire’s glory!

For Tipu, this was a business deal that was nothing but profitable.

As the Regent of France had said, tightly controlling the emperor like Scindia was actually the most foolish approach.

Because all Indians know that the so-called imperial decrees are actually issued by you, Scindia. Thus, no one takes Delhi’s orders seriously.

Now allowing the emperor to truly be an emperor has far greater political significance than using him as a puppet.

And once the emperor feels he has once more "reigned over the world," the biggest trouble he will undoubtedly face is the powerful foreign race attempting to control the Indian Peninsula— the British.

Tipu will smoothly withdraw from British oppression, gather strength, and await the moment of decisive battle between the Mughal Empire and the British.