The Mughal forces appeared like a dark wave cresting the ridge, their soldiers silhouetted against the moonlit sky. Narayanrao, crouched beside the MC, gripped his sword, ready for the fight. The narrow gorge where the Marathas had taken position was the only thing giving them a chance. The Mughals would have to funnel through it, reducing their overwhelming numbers. But this advantage would only buy them time, not victory.
The MC, his breath coming fast, tried to calm his racing heart. This was no strategy game—this was life or death. Santaji had been clear: their goal wasn't to win this battle but to delay the Mughals long enough for the supplies to reach Raigad. The rest of the Maratha forces were already moving south with the goods they had captured, and every minute the Mughals spent here was a minute gained for the Maratha rebellion.
"Hold your positions!" Santaji commanded in a hushed voice, moving between the men, his face set with determination. "No one moves until I give the signal."
The MC gripped his dagger tighter, crouching low behind the rocky outcrop that shielded him. The tension in the air was thick, and each second felt like an eternity. The Mughals, unaware of the trap, slowly made their way into the gorge, their footsteps muffled by the dust and rocks. The MC watched as the first lines of soldiers entered the narrow pass, their eyes scanning the shadows, wary but not yet aware of the Maratha ambush.
Narayanrao leaned closer to the MC, whispering, "Stay low, don't reveal yourself until you need to. This will be a quick and brutal fight."
The MC nodded, swallowing his fear. I'm not a soldier, he reminded himself. But I'm here, and I can make a difference.
As the Mughals continued to advance into the pass, Santaji finally gave the signal.
It began with a sudden, deafening rain of arrows. The Maratha archers, hidden in the rocks above, let loose their volleys, sending sharp shafts slicing through the air. The Mughals, caught completely off guard, stumbled and fell, their shouts of surprise echoing in the tight space. Horses reared in panic, throwing their riders, and the Mughal soldiers scrambled to form some kind of defense.
"Attack!" Santaji roared.
With a battle cry, the Maratha warriors sprang from their hiding spots, swords gleaming in the moonlight. The MC watched as Narayanrao surged forward, leading the charge with fierce determination. The Marathas descended upon the Mughals with the precision of seasoned guerrilla fighters, their strikes quick and lethal. They didn't need to overpower the enemy, only to hold them long enough to complete their mission.
The MC stayed behind, his role not to fight on the front lines but to think ahead, to watch for any shift in the Mughals' tactics. His mind raced as he watched the scene unfold. The Mughals, though taken by surprise, were formidable opponents, and they began to regroup quickly. Their officers barked orders, and the soldiers, now understanding the trap, moved to defend themselves in tighter formations.
Narayanrao was in the thick of it, his sword flashing in the dim light as he cut down one soldier after another. Santaji, too, was fighting alongside his men, his every movement calculated and deadly.
The MC could see that the Mughal forces outnumbered them by far, but the Marathas' positioning in the gorge made it difficult for the Mughals to bring their full numbers to bear. Still, the Mughals were pushing harder, their officers pressing them to break through the Maratha defenses.
"We need to hold them back longer," the MC muttered to himself, thinking rapidly. His system's map flickered into view, showing the position of both the Maratha and Mughal forces. The southern pass was still open, and the supplies were safely on their way, but time was running out.
The battle in the gorge raged on, but it was clear the Mughals were slowly gaining ground. Despite the Marathas' skill and strategy, the sheer number of Mughal soldiers was beginning to overwhelm their defensive position. The MC's heart pounded as he realized they wouldn't be able to hold the line for much longer.
"We need to slow them down!" the MC shouted to Santaji, who was nearby, cutting down another Mughal soldier.
Santaji glanced at him, his face grim but focused. "How?"
The MC's mind raced. "We need to collapse part of the gorge—block their path, even for a little while!"
Santaji paused, considering the idea. "It's risky. If we miscalculate, we could trap ourselves."
"We're already outnumbered," the MC countered. "If we don't stop them now, we won't make it back to Raigad."
Santaji nodded sharply, his decision made. "You—get the explosives!" he called to one of the nearby soldiers, a young man who quickly retrieved a small bag filled with crude explosive powder. Santaji handed it to the MC. "Your plan, your lead."
The MC's hands trembled slightly as he took the bag, feeling the weight of responsibility. He wasn't a demolitions expert, but he understood basic physics from his modern education. If they could create a controlled explosion on the cliffside above the gorge, they might be able to trigger a rockslide and temporarily block the Mughal advance.
"Follow me!" the MC shouted, motioning to the few men still standing near him. They sprinted toward a small outcrop higher up the gorge, keeping low to avoid Mughal arrows. The MC's pulse quickened as they reached the spot—one of the narrowest sections of the pass, where the cliff above was already fragile.
"Here," the MC said breathlessly, motioning to the rocky overhang. "We need to place the explosives right along that crack. It should be enough to bring the rocks down without burying us."
The soldier worked quickly, setting the charges while the MC kept an eye on the battle below. The Mughals were pressing harder, their officers shouting for more men to force their way through. Santaji and Narayanrao were holding the line, but the pressure was intense.
"Hurry!" the MC urged.
Within minutes, the charges were set. The MC, nerves jangling, motioned for the men to get clear. "Light it and move!" he ordered.
The soldier struck a spark and lit the fuse. The MC's heart raced as they sprinted back down the slope, the hiss of the fuse growing louder behind them. They reached the shelter of the rocks just as the explosion tore through the air.
The ground shook violently as the side of the gorge crumbled, sending a cascade of rocks and debris crashing down onto the narrow pass below. The sound of falling stone drowned out the shouts of the Mughals as they were forced to retreat, their path completely blocked by the rockslide.
The MC peeked over the edge, his breath catching in his throat. The explosion had worked. The Mughals were stalled, their advance temporarily halted. But it wouldn't hold them for long.
Santaji and Narayanrao, still covered in dust from the explosion, quickly rallied the remaining Maratha forces. "We don't have much time!" Santaji shouted. "Fall back! Now!"
The MC scrambled to his feet, his muscles aching from the exertion, but there was no time to rest. The Marathas began their retreat, moving quickly but carefully through the rocky terrain, leaving the blocked gorge behind them.
As they moved, the MC glanced back at the ruined pass, feeling a mixture of relief and dread. They had bought themselves time—perhaps enough for the supplies to make it to Raigad—but the Mughals would soon find another way through. This victory was temporary, but it had given them a crucial advantage.
Narayanrao jogged up beside the MC, clapping him on the back. "You did it. That explosion bought us enough time."
The MC nodded, though he still felt uneasy. "We delayed them, but they'll come back stronger. We need to be ready."
Santaji, overhearing their conversation, approached. "We'll regroup at Raigad. This battle is over, but the war has just begun. The Mughals won't take this defeat lightly."
The MC wiped sweat from his brow, his thoughts still racing. "We need to plan our next move carefully. If we're going to survive, we have to stay ahead of them."
Santaji smiled grimly. "That's exactly what we'll do."
As they made their way back to Raigad under the cover of darkness, the MC couldn't help but feel a growing sense of determination. He had helped the Marathas win this small victory, but the path ahead was still filled with danger. The Mughals were relentless, and their fight for survival was far from over.