Chapter 147: Chapter 145: Generation Curse From Goddess Mahakali...
(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...
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The Goddess Mahakali’s attention moved on.
Slowly.
Her eyes swept across the clearing.
Across the kneeling practitioners.
Across the shattered ritual circles.
Across the ruined offerings.
Then her gaze settled upon something else.
"...."
Something that had been overlooked amid the chaos.
The sacrificial altar.
Several bound women remained there.
Their wrists tied.
Their bodies trembling.
The stone slabs prepared for the ritual stood behind them.
Large slabs of dark stone.
Each stained by previous offerings.
Each designed to hold a victim in place.
Beside them lay the ceremonial swords.
Weapons that only moments ago had been raised to take innocent lives.
Now they rested abandoned upon the ground.
The women had witnessed everything.
"...."
"...."
"...."
The lightning. The fog.
The arrival of Karichathan.
The appearance of Mahakali.
Their terror had only grown with every passing moment.
Yet now, as the goddess looked toward them, something else appeared in their eyes.
Hope. Fragile. Desperate.
Hope.
Some of the women were crying.
Others had gone silent from fear. Looking at the Goddess Mahakali.
One clutched her bound hands so tightly that her knuckles had turned white.
Another whispered prayers beneath her breath.
Not knowing if anyone was listening.
Not knowing if she would live to see another sunrise.
Their eyes remained fixed upon Mahakali.
Fearful.
Yet pleading.
The goddess said nothing.
For several moments she simply looked at them.
The forest remained silent.
The spirits watched.
The practitioners watched.
Even Karichathan stood quietly waiting for what the goddess will do next.
Then something changed.
The terrifying pressure that had filled the clearing softened.
Only slightly.
Not enough to disappear.
Not enough to make anyone comfortable.
But enough that the women noticed it.
Enough that the spirits noticed it.
Enough that the practitioners noticed it.
The women looked at one another uncertainly.
One of them began crying openly.
Not from fear this time.
From relief.
Because despite the terrifying appearance before them.
Despite the severed heads.
Despite the sword.
Despite the fierce eyes.
For the first time that night they felt something else beneath the rage.
Compassion.
The fierce compassion of a mother protecting those who could not protect themselves.
Goddess Mahakali’s gaze remained upon them.
"...."
And for a brief moment, the women understood something many devotees spend lifetimes trying to comprehend.
The same goddess who destroys arrogance.
The same goddess who shatters ego.
The same goddess who terrifies demons and tyrants.
Is also the goddess who stands beside the helpless.
The protector of those abandoned by others.
The refuge of those who have nowhere left to run.
The practitioners kneeling nearby slowly lowered their heads further.
Because they were finally beginning to understand why her anger had been so great.
This was never merely about Devaratha.
Their greed had driven them to a point where they were willing to murder innocents.
Pregnant women.
Unborn children.
Lives that had done nothing to them.
All for power. All for revenge of someone.
All for ambition.
And now the First Goddess Mahavidya herself was looking directly at the evidence of their sins.
No one wanted to imagine what judgment might come next.
Even Karichathan remained unusually quiet.
Watching. Waiting.
"...."
Because everyone present understood one thing.
Mahakali had not appeared merely to witness.
She had appeared to decide.
The terrified women remained kneeling before the altar.
Their hands were bound.
Their bodies trembled from exhaustion and fear.
For hours they had believed they would never see another sunrise.
That their lives would end upon those cold stone slabs.
That their unborn children would perish alongside them.
Now they stood before the very goddess whose name many of them had prayed to throughout their lives.
Goddess Mahakali’s blazing eyes rested upon them.
For a few moments, nothing happened.
Then one of her ten hands moved.
It was a simple gesture. Effortless. Almost casual.
Yet the effect was immediate.
CRACK!
The sacrificial altars shattered.
The sound echoed throughout the clearing.
Massive fractures spread through the stone structures.
Then the entire sacrificial platform broke apart.
Chunks of stone collapsed onto the ground.
The ritual site that had been prepared so carefully was reduced to rubble in seconds.
At the same moment, the ropes binding the women snapped apart.
Not cut. Not untied.
Simply broken.
As though an invisible force had decided they no longer deserved to exist.
The women stared at their freed hands in disbelief.
For a moment they remained frozen.
Unable to process what had happened.
Then one by one they dropped to their knees.
Tears streamed down their faces.
Some sobbed openly.
Others could not even speak.
They folded their hands toward the goddess.
Offering prayers. Offering thanks.
Offering the only thing they possessed.
Their gratitude.
One young woman lowered her forehead to the ground.
"Mother..."
The word escaped through tears.
Another held her swollen stomach protectively.
Her child had been saved.
Her family had been saved.
Her future had been saved.
Many of the spirits gathered throughout the forest smiled quietly at the sight.
Even Karichathan looked pleased. Seeing the women
The practitioners, however, felt no relief.
Because Mahakali’s attention was no longer upon the women.
It had returned to them.
And that terrified them far more than before.
The goddess slowly turned.
The movement alone caused several practitioners to tremble.
Her gaze swept across the gathering.
Across the clan leaders.
Across the elders.
Across every participant in the ritual.
Then suddenly—Every tantra practitioner screamed.
The pain came without warning.
"-AHHHHHHHH!!!"
One moment they were kneeling.
The next they were clutching their throats.
Their hands immediately flew toward their necks.
Cries of agony erupted throughout the clearing.
Some rolled across the ground. Others collapsed forward.
Several practitioners clawed desperately at their own skin.
Trying to understand what was happening. Trying to stop the pain.
But nothing helped.
The flesh around their necks had begun glowing.
Dark red.
Like metal inside a furnace.
Smoke rose from their skin.
The smell of burning flesh filled the air.
Their screams echoed throughout the forest.
The gathered spirits watched silently.
The women looked on in shock.
The remaining clan leaders were no different.
They too suffered.
The burning sensation felt unbearable.
As though invisible fire had wrapped itself around their throats.
As though their own karma had become a burning chain.
One elder cried out.
"Mercy!"
Another slammed his forehead against the ground.
"Please!"
A third screamed until his voice broke.
Yet the pain continued.
Not enough to kill.
Only enough to make them understand.
Then Goddess Mahakali spoke.
The moment her voice echoed through the clearing, every sound vanished.
Even the screams quieted.
Not because the pain ended.
But because her words demanded attention.
"There is no such thing as good power."
Her voice rolled across the forest like thunder.
"There is no such thing as evil power."
The practitioners looked up despite their suffering.
Mahakali’s eyes blazed like cosmic fire.
"The river that sustains life can also drown."
"The fire that warms can also destroy."
"The sword that protects can also murder."
The forest remained silent.
Every soul listened. Every spirit listened.
Even the wind seemed to stop.
The goddess took another step forward.
The earth beneath her feet cracked.
-Crack!
"Power is power."
Her voice carried the weight of ages.
"It possesses no virtue."
"It possesses no sin."
Her eyes swept across the suffering practitioners.
"The choice belongs to the one who wields it."
Several practitioners lowered their heads in shame.
Because they knew she spoke the truth.
Mahakali continued to speak her words echoed around.
"You were given knowledge."
"You were given teachings."
"You were given wisdom passed down through generations."
Her voice became colder.
"And what did you do with it?"
The practitioners could not answer.
The goddess answered for them.
"You twisted it."
"You corrupted it."
"You turned sacred knowledge into a tool for hatred."
The burning around their necks intensified.
Several cried out once more.
"You sought power."
"Not understanding."
"You sought revenge."
"Not justice."
"You sought domination."
"Not wisdom."
The words struck harder than the pain itself.
Because they knew she was right.
Every step of the ritual. Every sacrifice. Every decision.
Had been driven by greed.
Not spirituality. Not devotion.
Not faith.
Mahakali’s eyes finally settled upon the clan leaders.
The men responsible for guiding the others.
The men who should have known better.
The men who had led everyone here.
"You did not dishonor tantra."
Her words made them pause.
Then her gaze hardened.
"You dishonored yourselves."
The clearing fell silent once more.
The burning marks around their necks continued glowing.
A permanent reminder.
A visible judgment.
A mark that would follow them long after this night ended.
The women who had been rescued watched quietly.
The spirits remained silent.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Karichathan folded his arms while sitting atop a nearby rock.
For once, even he had nothing clever to say.
Because everyone present understood.
This was not punishment born from cruelty.
This was judgment.
And judgment, unlike revenge, was meant to teach.
Whether the practitioners learned from it remained to be seen.
But none of them would ever forget this night.
Nor the lesson delivered by the First Mahavidya herself.
The agony did not end.
If anything, it became worse.
The tantra practitioners rolled across the ground screaming.
Some clawed desperately at their necks.
Others begged for mercy.
A few tried chanting protective mantras through gritted teeth.
Nothing worked.
The burning sensation continued spreading around their throats.
The glowing marks became brighter and brighter until the entire clearing was illuminated by the crimson light radiating from their necks.
The smell of scorched flesh filled the air.
Many of the younger practitioners had already collapsed from the pain.
The clan leaders fared no better.
The men who had once commanded respect throughout five kingdoms now lay helpless upon the ground.
Their robes were covered in dirt.
Their faces twisted in agony.
The women who had been freed instinctively moved away from the scene.
Even the spirits watching from the forest had become silent.
No one wished to interfere.
This was divine judgement.
Then the changes began.
One practitioner suddenly cried out louder than the others.
His body started shrinking.
The people around him watched in horror.
His arms became shorter.
His legs contracted.
His entire frame rapidly diminished in size.
"What is happening?!"
His scream echoed through the clearing.
Then another practitioner began shrinking.
Then another. Then another.
Panic spread through the gathering.
The transformation was happening to everyone.
Bones shifted. Muscles contracted. Faces twisted.
Their ears slowly lengthened and became pointed.
Their features grew rougher.
Stranger.
Their bodies continued shrinking until most of them stood no taller than a two-year-old child.
The clan leaders stared at one another in disbelief.
Moments ago they had been imposing figures.
Respected elders.
Powerful practitioners.
Now they looked completely different.
The realization struck them harder than the physical pain.
Several immediately began weeping.
Others screamed in frustration.
Some begged the goddess to reverse what was happening.
But Mahakali’s expression never changed.
She stood amidst the clearing like the embodiment of cosmic judgment itself.
The glowing marks around their necks finally stabilized.
What had begun as burns now formed a distinct collar-like mark encircling each practitioner’s throat.
The mark looked almost as though invisible chains had been branded directly onto their souls.
Then Mahakali spoke. Her voice rolled across the clearing like thunder.
Every spirit lowered its head.
Every practitioner froze despite their suffering.
"You have spent your lives chasing power without wisdom."
Her blazing eyes swept across the gathering.
"You have consumed."
"You have taken."
"You have desired."
"Yet you never learned contentment."
The practitioners trembled.
None dared interrupt.
Mahakali’s voice grew colder.
"You sacrificed innocence for ambition."
"You mistook greed for strength."
The clan leaders lowered their heads in shame.
The truth of her words pierced deeper than any weapon.
Then the goddess raised one of her hands.
The pressure in the clearing intensified.
"Therefore hear my judgment."
The forest itself seemed to hold its breath.
"From this day forward, you and your descendants shall live as dwarfs."
The practitioners felt despair consume them.
Some immediately began pleading.
Others openly sobbed.
But the goddess continued.
"You shall carry the reminder of your greed upon your bodies."
Her eyes settled upon the glowing collars around their necks.
"And because your thirst for power was never satisfied..."
The practitioners felt dread.
Pure dread.
"...your thirst shall never be satisfied."
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(Author note:)
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Don’t forget to review guys...
Guys I have a new fic which named: Karuppan: King of Openings.
