Chapter 57: The Third Attempt
They did not wait for it this time.
After the second circle broke, after the left side collapsed under pressure, there was no pause in the air, no illusion of distance. The enemy had already learned enough to understand one thing clearly.
Delay only gave Arshdeep space.
And space—
Was what kept him alive.
So they removed it.
Arshdeep felt the shift before he saw it.
"They're closer," he said.
Jawahar Singh looked around, eyes narrowing.
"Yes."
"They didn't fall back fully."
"No."
That was new.
Before, after each failed attempt, the pressure had eased. The field had opened again, even if only for a short while.
Now—
It remained tight.
The riders behind them had not withdrawn far. The ones ahead had not stayed distant.
They had shortened everything.
"They're compressing the ground," Jawahar Singh said.
"Yes."
"So we don't get time."
"That's the plan."
The group tightened instinctively, not needing to be told. They could feel it now, the difference in the air, the lack of space, the sense that movement itself was being watched from every direction.
"They're forcing constant pressure," one of the men said.
"Yes."
Arshdeep did not slow this time.
Because slowing meant allowing them to close.
And allowing them to close—
Was exactly what they wanted.
He pushed the pace forward.
Not reckless.
But firm.
The others followed immediately.
Behind them, the dust rose again.
Faster than before.
Closer than before.
"They're coming already!" someone shouted.
"Yes."
Jawahar Singh glanced ahead.
"They're ahead too."
Shapes were forming once more, but unlike before, they were not far enough to observe.
They were already within range.
"They didn't give us distance," Jawahar Singh said.
"No."
"They want to fight in motion."
Yes.
Because movement had become the battlefield itself.
There would be no clear start.
No clear separation between approach and clash.
Everything would happen at once.
"They're closing both sides together," Jawahar Singh said.
Arshdeep nodded.
"They learned from the last one."
"They won't let one side get ahead."
No.
This time, the circle would try to form evenly.
Connected.
Harder to break.
The dust thickened.
The riders emerged from it.
Left.
Right.
Ahead.
Behind.
Not fully closed.
But close enough to matter.
"They're faster," one of the men said.
"Yes."
"Too fast."
Arshdeep's eyes moved constantly, tracking not individuals, but the pattern.
The rhythm.
The way they were aligning.
"They're matching each other," he said.
Jawahar Singh understood immediately.
"No gaps."
"Not obvious ones."
That made it harder.
Because before, the break had come from imbalance.
Now—
There was balance.
Or something close to it.
"What do we do?" one of the men asked.
Arshdeep did not answer immediately.
Because the answer was not the same as before.
He watched again.
Closer now.
Faster.
The circle tightening.
Then—
He saw it.
Not in spacing.
In timing.
"They're matching speed," he said.
Jawahar Singh frowned.
"That's good for them."
"Yes."
A pause.
"But not for long."
Because matching speed meant commitment.
It meant they had chosen a pace.
And once chosen—
It could not change quickly.
"They can't slow without breaking it," Arshdeep said.
Jawahar Singh's eyes sharpened.
"And they can't speed up without losing control."
"Yes."
That was it.
Not a gap in space.
A gap in flexibility.
Arshdeep raised his hand slightly.
"We slow," he said.
Jawahar Singh blinked.
"What?"
"We slow."
That was unexpected.
Because everything until now had been about matching or exceeding their speed.
"Won't they close faster?" Jawahar Singh asked.
"Yes."
"Then why?"
Arshdeep's voice remained calm.
"Because they can't adjust fast enough."
A pause.
"They're committed to their pace."
Jawahar Singh understood.
"So if we change ours—"
"They lose alignment."
That was the risk.
And the opportunity.
Arshdeep pulled back slightly on his horse.
The group slowed.
Not abruptly.
But enough.
The effect was immediate.
The riders closing in had to adjust.
Some slowed.
Some didn't.
The alignment wavered.
"They're shifting!" someone shouted.
"Yes."
But not cleanly.
Not together.
The left side slowed first.
The right side remained faster for a moment longer.
The front hesitated.
The rear pushed forward.
"They're out of sync!" Jawahar Singh said.
"Yes."
That was the moment.
Arshdeep did not wait.
"Now," he said.
They surged forward again.
Not at the previous pace.
Faster.
The sudden acceleration hit the already shifting formation at the worst possible time.
They had just tried to adjust.
Now they had to adjust again.
Too much.
Too fast.
"They can't match it!" one of the men shouted.
No.
They couldn't.
Arshdeep drove toward the point where the right side had not fully slowed yet, where the alignment was weakest.
Jawahar Singh followed instantly.
The clash came hard.
The riders there tried to hold.
But their support was still adjusting.
Still catching up.
Still out of position.
The impact broke their edge.
Not cleanly.
But enough.
"They're slipping!" Jawahar Singh said.
"Yes."
"Push!"
They did.
Not stopping.
Not holding.
Driving through the unstable line.
Behind them, the rest of the circle struggled to close.
Too many adjustments.
Too many mismatches.
The coordination failed.
Again.
"They lost it!" someone shouted.
Yes.
Because they had been forced to change too quickly.
Too many times.
Arshdeep broke through and kept moving.
Not turning.
Not slowing.
Creating distance once more.
Behind them, the third attempt collapsed.
Not as scattered as the first.
Not as cleanly broken as the second.
But still—
Failed.
Jawahar Singh rode beside him, breathing harder now.
"They're getting better."
"Yes."
"And harder to break."
"Yes."
A pause.
"But we're still ahead."
Arshdeep nodded.
"For now."
That was the truth.
Because each time—
The gap closed.
Each attempt came closer to working.
"They'll learn from this too," Jawahar Singh said.
"Yes."
"They'll adjust again."
Arshdeep looked ahead.
The open ground still stretched forward.
But now it felt smaller.
Tighter.
As if each attempt reduced the space they had to work with.
"They won't rely on speed alone next time," Jawahar Singh said.
"No."
"They'll add something else."
Arshdeep's voice remained steady.
"Yes."
Because speed had limits.
Coordination had limits.
And now—
They had reached them.
The next step would go beyond both.
Arshdeep did not slow.
Because now—
There was no safe pace.
Only the one that kept them alive.
"Stay sharp," he said.
The group remained tight.
Focused.
Ready.
Behind them, the dust settled once more.
Ahead—
It would rise again.
Stronger.
Smarter.
And closer than ever before.
RAAZ.