
<p><strong>ठनà¥à¤¯à¥ ठबहव: शà¥à¤°à¤¾ मदरà¥à¤¥à¥ तà¥à¤¯à¤à¥à¤¤à¤à¥à¤µà¤¿à¤¤à¤¾: |</strong></p>



<p><strong>नानाशसà¥à¤¤à¥à¤°à¤ªà¥à¤°à¤¹à¤°à¤£à¤¾: सरà¥à¤µà¥ यà¥à¤¦à¥à¤§à¤µà¤¿à¤¶à¤¾à¤°à¤¦à¤¾: </strong><strong>|| </strong><strong>9</strong><strong>||</strong><strong></strong></p>



<p><em>anye cha bahavaḥ śhūrā madarthe tyaktajīvitāḥ<br>nānā-śhastra-praharaá¹āḥ sarve yuddha-viśhāradāḥ</em></p>



<p><strong>English Translation : </strong>Also, there are many other heroic warriors, who are prepared to lay down their lives for my sake. They are all skilled in the art of warfare, and equipped with various kinds of weapons.</p>



<h2 class="wp-block-heading" id="h-the-merciless-warlord-s-loyal-army">The Merciless Warlord&#8217;s Loyal Army</h2>



<p>Having shaken off his brief bout of misgiving, Duryodhana turned his gaze outward once more. He surveyed the vast Kaurava ranks with an imperious sneer, deriving perverse satisfaction from the deadly human resources at his command.</p>



<p><strong>&#8220;Look upon my warriors,&#8221;</strong> the prince proclaimed, his voice dripping with sadistic relish. &#8220;Loyal soldiers, bound in fealty to my cause. Each a battle-hardened veteran, their very existence devoted to shedding blood on my orders.&#8221;</p>



<p>Duryodhana strode along the front lines, his eyes devouring the grim spectacle of his assembled army. Tens of thousands of men, from noble-born knights to brutal mercenary footmen, stood in purposeful formations. Restless blades clinked against shields and armor, the martial cacophony underscoring their supreme proficiency in the arts of war and slaughter.</p>



<p>&#8220;They wield every instrument of death known to mankind,&#8221; Duryodhana boasted, his voice thick with perverse pride. &#8220;From sword and spear to exotic, horrific machines of siege and sorcery. No martial technique or forbidden weapon is unknown to these elite killers.&#8221;</p>



<p>The tyrant-in-waiting knew the might of his forces was unmatched. Not just in numbers, but in the sheer breadth of their deadly skillsets. No matter the tactical problem or impregnable fortress, his generals could bring strategies and munitions to bear with unstoppable force.</p>



<p>Yet the key to his assembled horde&#8217;s lethality lay not just in their technical prowess. As Duryodhana&#8217;s pitiless gaze raked over the formations, he saw the truth that separated his army from the Pandava&#8217;s cause-driven upstarts.</p>



<p>&#8220;These are not deluded fools bound by hollow ideals and virtues,&#8221; he sneered. &#8220;They kill because I command it, no more complicated than a butcher slaying cattle. Unwavering in their obedience, with no limits on the horrors they will visit upon my enemies in my name.&#8221;</p>



<p>Duryodhana smiled cruelly at the thought. For only an army unshackled from delusional notions of morality or restraint could ever hope to bring his vision of absolute conquest to brutal fruition. As the drums of war began to sound, he knew such men would enact unimaginable atrocities without a moment&#8217;s hesitation.</p>



<p>And it would all be for his sake, to slake his unquenchable ambition with an empire of blood and bone.</p>



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Bhagavad Gita: Chapter 1, Verse 9
