Chapter 140: Chapter 138: Caught Red Handed... Unusual High Respect...
(A/N):
Drop a meme here that you find funny. Or reflects your mood.
Guys I hope you put more comments and power stones... Which will encourage me...
I would like to this time choose a local deities.
--> Give me all the names you know. I would do research on them. Or you could share their story a little and their power and what they authority over.
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For the first time since the massacre,
Karichathan looked away hearing the question of Goddess Varahi.
His grin became slightly awkward.
"...."
The giant boar immediately noticed.
The goddess had known him long enough.
That look meant trouble.
Karichathan scratched his cheek.
Then looked elsewhere.
Then whistled like he was the innocent here.
The goddess remained silent.
"...."
Waiting.
Eventually the kuttichattan sighed dramatically.
-Sigh!
"You’re no fun."
The boar snorted.
The sound carried clear disapproval.
Karichathan jumped from the tree trunk and landed lightly upon the forest floor.
-THUD.
He kicked a stone. Then another.
Then finally shrugged his shoulder.
"I may have followed something."
The goddess waited for the complete answer.
The silence stretched.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Karichathan coughed awkwardly.
Then looked away again.
The boar’s eyes narrowed.
"You backtracked through their ritual."
The kuttichattan immediately froze.
"...."
For several seconds neither spoke.
Then Karichathan slowly turned.
A guilty smile appeared on his face.
The goddess let out another grunt.
She had her answer.
The old practitioner’s ritual.
The dolls.
The bindings.
The pathways they had created.
Karichathan had followed them.
Using their own ritual path like a mischievous child sneaking through an unlocked door.
The kuttichattan raised both hands defensively.
"In my defense..."
"There was a very interesting smell."
The giant boar stared at him.
"A smell."
Karichathan nodded enthusiastically.
"A very interesting smell."
The goddess remained unimpressed.
The kuttichattan immediately changed topics.
A survival tactic he had perfected over countless years.
"Anyway."
"They deserved it."
The giant boar remained silent.
Karichathan’s grin slowly faded.
For once. Only once.
A serious expression appeared.
"They were hurting the land."
His voice was quieter now.
"They were hurting the dead."
"They were hurting people who couldn’t defend themselves."
The forest became silent.
The goddess watched him carefully.
Because beneath all the laughter.
Beneath all the games.
Beneath all the chaos.
Karichathan possessed a very particular hatred.
He despised those who preyed upon the weak.
Especially those who likes to control others for their own benefit.
The silence lasted several moments.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Then the goddess finally relaxed.
Slightly.
Only slightly.
The chains on her legs softly rang.
The yellow glow in her eyes became calmer.
Karichathan immediately brightened.
Then the goddess asked another question.
One that caused him to pause.
"You hold Devaratha in unusually high regard."
The kuttichattan froze hearing that question.
The forest became quiet again.
Even the spirits lingering at the edges seemed interested.
Because it was true.
Whenever Devara’s name came up.
Whenever his actions were mentioned.
Whenever someone spoke ill of him.
Karichathan’s behavior changed.
Subtly.
But noticeably.
The goddess had observed it for years.
The kuttichattan scratched his head.
Then looked away.
Then looked at the sky.
Then at a tree.
Then at literally anything except the goddess.
"...."
The giant boar waited.
Patiently.
Karichathan finally smiled.
A much smaller smile than usual.
Almost nostalgic.
"He once did something."
The goddess tilted her head slightly.
"What?"
Karichathan immediately shook his head.
"Nope."
The boar narrowed its eyes.
The kuttichattan pointed a finger.
"I am not telling."
The goddess stared at him.
Karichathan crossed his arms triumphantly.
The goddess stared harder.
The kuttichattan looked away first.
"...I’m still not telling."
The chains softly echoed through the forest.
The goddess could easily force the answer.
Yet she did not.
Because she could tell something.
Whatever memory Karichathan was protecting...
It mattered.
A lot.
Eventually the goddess let out a long snort.
The conversation ended there.
Karichathan immediately looked relieved.
The giant boar slowly turned toward the direction of Trivenivrata Royal palace.
Far away....
Beyond forests. Beyond rivers.
Beyond mountains.
A young king slept peacefully within his palace.
Completely unaware that a divine guardian and a mischievous kuttichattan were currently discussing him in the middle of the night.
Karichathan followed her gaze.
A strange smile appeared on his face.
"...."
One filled with respect.
And perhaps something else.
Something older.
Something no one else knew.
The reason remained hidden.
Known only to Karichathan himself.
And he intended to keep it that way.
A week passed...
Deep within the vast forest that connected the territories of the five allied kingdoms, the hidden settlements of the tantra clans were bustling with activity.
The atmosphere was noticeably different from before.
There was excitement.
Expectation.
Anticipation.
The surviving clan leaders had received messages carried by trained owls from the infiltrators they had secretly sent into Trivenivrata weeks ago.
According to the reports, the first phase of their operation had been completed successfully.
The tantra dolls had been buried.
The ritual anchors had been established.
Everything was proceeding according to plan.
Or so they believed.
Now they were preparing for the second phase.
A much larger ritual.
One that required cooperation from both sides.
The practitioners hidden inside Trivenivrata would activate the influence of the buried dolls.
At the same time, the main ritual would be performed here, far from the kingdom’s borders.
When combined, the two workings would supposedly create a bridge powerful enough to affect the entire land.
At least, that was the theory.
As a result, the forest settlement had become unusually lively.
Practitioners moved between huts carrying ritual materials.
Others prepared herbs, powders, bones, and offerings.
Large circles were being drawn upon the earth.
Protective wards were renewed.
Assistants hurried from place to place carrying instructions from their elders.
Everyone was focused on the coming ritual.
No one noticed the approaching figure.
Not at first.
Near the edge of the settlement, a woman from one of the clans was gathering fruits from a tall forest tree.
Her woven basket was nearly full.
She hummed quietly while selecting the ripest fruits.
Then movement caught her eye.
"...."
She paused.
At first she assumed it was a hunter returning from the forest.
But something felt wrong.
Very wrong.
The figure was staggering.
Barely walking.
The woman narrowed her eyes.
Slowly, the person emerged from between the trees.
A young man.
His clothes were torn.
His body was covered in dried blood and dirt.
Each step looked painful.
The woman’s eyes widened.
She recognized him immediately.
One of the infiltrators.
One of the five practitioners who had been sent into Trivenivrata.
For a moment, relief flashed across her face.
Then she noticed the rest.
Her relief vanished.
One of his arms was missing.
His left eye was gone.
Deep wounds covered his body.
He looked less like a returning practitioner and more like a man who had somehow crawled out of death itself.
The woman nearly dropped her basket.
The young man finally noticed her.
For a brief moment, hope appeared in his remaining eye.
His cracked lips moved.
"...."
As though he wanted to say something.
Wanted to warn them.
Wanted to tell them what had happened.
Then his legs gave out.
His body collapsed onto the forest floor.
The basket fell from the woman’s hands.
Fruits scattered everywhere.
Without hesitation, she placed two fingers in her mouth and released a sharp whistle.
A specific pattern.
Three short notes.
One long note.
Then another short note.
The signal echoed throughout the settlement.
Every clan member immediately recognized it.
Emergency.
Someone needed help.
Several practitioners instantly stopped what they were doing.
The nearest clan mens rushed toward the source.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Others followed moments later.
Within seconds, dozens of people had gathered near the unconscious man.
The crowd immediately fell silent.
Shock spread across their faces.
"That’s one of the infiltrators."
"What happened to him?"
"Where are the others?"
"Who did this?"
The questions came one after another.
None received an answer.
Because the young man remained unconscious.
One of the elders quickly knelt beside him.
His expression darkened immediately.
The wounds weren’t fresh.
They were several days old.
Yet somehow the man had survived.
That alone felt unnatural.
The elder placed two fingers against the practitioner’s neck.
A weak pulse greeted him.
Still alive.
Barely.
"Move him."
The order came instantly.
"Now."
Several clan members carefully lifted the injured man.
The crowd parted as they carried him through the settlement.
Whispers followed them everywhere.
Everyone could see the missing arm.
Everyone could see the empty eye socket.
Everyone could see the terror frozen upon his face even while unconscious.
It wasn’t the face of a man defeated in battle.
It was the face of someone who had witnessed something that shattered his understanding of the world.
The healer’s hut stood near the center of the settlement.
Its doors were thrown open immediately.
The wounded practitioner was carried inside and laid upon a woven mat.
The healers quickly began their work.
Medicinal herbs.
Sacred oils.
Protective chants.
Everything available was brought forward.
Outside, the settlement gradually fell silent.
The excitement surrounding the upcoming ritual had disappeared.
An uneasy feeling settled over the clans.
Because only one infiltrator had returned.
And the fear etched onto his face suggested a terrible possibility.
The mission inside Trivenivrata had not gone according to plan.
Far away, hidden beneath the shade of the forest canopy, an owl watched the settlement quietly from a branch.
Its golden eyes never blinked.
"...."
For a moment, it almost seemed to be observing the healers’ hut.
Watching.
Waiting.
Then it spread its wings and disappeared into the forest.
Meanwhile...
The young man was running.
Branches tore at his clothes.
Roots reached for his feet.
His lungs burned.
His remaining eye was filled with terror.
Behind him echoed the sound he had come to fear more than death itself.
Laughter.
Childish laughter.
Playful laughter.
The laughter of Karichathan.
"RUN!"
"RUN!"
"RUN FASTER!"
The voice echoed from every direction.
The young man stumbled.
The forest around him turned red.
Blood began falling from the sky once more.
The trees twisted. The shadows stretched.
Then he saw them. His dead companions.
Standing among the trees.
Watching him.
Their torn bodies stared silently.
The elder stood among them.
Or what remained of him.
His hollow eyes fixed themselves upon the fleeing practitioner.
The young man’s heart nearly stopped.
"No..."
He stumbled backward.
"No!"
Then something landed upon his shoulder.
A small hand.
A child’s hand.
The young man slowly turned.
And found himself staring into the golden eyes of Karichathan.
"...."
"...."
The kuttichattan’s grin stretched impossibly wide.
-Grin!
"Found you."
The creature lunged.
The young man screamed.
His eyes flew open.
A terrified shout escaped his throat.
He sat upright so suddenly that the blankets tangled around him.
Sweat drenched his entire body.
"...."
His chest rose and fell violently.
For several moments he simply stared into space.
Breathing.
Trying to understand. Trying to remember.
Trying to convince himself.
The blood rain was gone.
The forest was gone.
Karichathan was gone.
It had been a dream.
A nightmare. Only a nightmare.
Slowly his surroundings came into focus.
Wooden walls.
Medicinal herbs hanging from the ceiling.
Clay lamps.
The scent of healing ointments.
The healer’s hut.
He was back.
Back among his people.
The realization should have comforted him.
Instead, it made him feel worse.
Because he remembered.
Every single thing.
The massacre.
The spirits.
The giant boar.
A creature who introduced himself as Karichathan.
None of it had been a dream.
The nightmare was only a memory.
The hut’s entrance suddenly opened.
One figure entered.
Then another. Then another.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Soon all five clan leaders stood inside.
Their expressions ranged from concern to irritation.
The young man recognized each of them immediately.
They were the one who he needs to warn of what lays there.
The leaders of the five clans.
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(Author note:)
I hope you guys give me your opinion and idea’s.
-->
New Template:
But it will manifest little later into the story.
I would like to this time choose a local deities.
--> Give me all the names you know. I would do research on them. Or you could share their story a little and their power and what they authority over.
Don’t forget to review guys...
Guys I have a new fic which named: Karuppan: King of Openings.
