What if a modern human is whisked in the body of Karna. In this reimagining of Karna's journey, I delve into the depths of his experiences and emotions, illuminating the complexities of a character often defined by his tragic fate. From his initial...
(Place: PASCHIM MAHAVIDYALAYA, North of Anarta and Gurjara & west of sudra and Sauvira, Between modern Rann of Kutch and Southern Rajasthan)
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Ajay crouched behind the shield wall, every muscle tense as arrows rained down from the west. The hiss of the projectiles cutting through the air filled his ears, but he remained focused. His company, tightly packed and disciplined, moved forward in unison, their shields interlocking like scales on a serpent. The arrows hammered against the shields, concentrated on the left side where the defenses were thinnest. Ajay noticed the pressure building, the strain evident as the shields buckled slightly.
"Adjust formation! Shields left!" he commanded, his voice cutting through the chaos. His DAL of ten soldiers responded instantly, shifting their shields to counter the relentless assault. The movement was precise, practiced-a testament to their training at PASCHIM Mahavidyalaya.
Step by step, they advanced, the ground beneath them littered with spent arrows. Ajay could see the frustration etched on the faces of Rohit's archers, their efforts to pierce his formation growing more desperate. The bowmen tried to exploit every gap, targeting the overlaps in the shields, but Ajay's DAL held firm.
"Steady, men! Keep moving!" Ajay's voice was firm, bolstering his comrades' resolve. They were close now, close enough to see the sweat on the archers' brows, the tension in their drawn bows. The ditch marking loomed ahead, a boundary that would force Rohit's DAL to forfeit if crossed. Victory was within reach.
Ajay's mind raced, calculating every move, every possible reaction. But just as they closed the gap, one of his soldiers-a young, eager recruit-broke ranks. In his haste to claim glory, he charged ahead, disrupting the formation.
"Hold your position!" Ajay bellowed, but it was too late. The breach was fatal. Rohit's archers, sensing the opportunity, unleashed a devastating volley. The arrows, though tipped with cotton to blunt their impact, struck with brutal precision. They found the gaps in the infantry's defenses, bruising flesh beneath armor and sending men stumbling back in pain.
The sound of groans and curses filled the air as Ajay's dal faltered. The battlefield, which had been theirs to dominate, now felt like a death trap. Ajay's fury erupted, his voice seething with anger. "What are you doing? Stay in formation!"
But the damage was done. Rohit's dal, disciplined and sharp, pressed their advantage. Ajay's dal, now disordered, struggled to regain control, their momentum shattered by one reckless mistake.
