Chapter 210: Chapter 208: Your Eyes Betrayed You... Cutting Down The Path...
(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...
-------------------------------------------------
A soft groan broke the silence that had settled inside the ruined tent.
Princess Indhumati’s eyelashes trembled before slowly fluttering open.
Her vision was blurred at first.
"...."
The flickering torchlight.
The torn canvas.
The bloodstained ground.
The fallen bodies of the assassins.
Everything appeared like fragments of a nightmare.
Then her gaze finally settled upon the lone figure standing a short distance away.
The radiant golden armor that covered his body had yet to fade.
The twin divine swords hovered quietly beside him as though faithfully awaiting his next command.
More importantly...
She saw his face.
Or rather...
The single emerald-green eye visible beneath the strands of hair that partially concealed it.
Her breathing caught.
That eye...
She had seen it before.
It was impossible to mistake it.
The memory she had buried deep within her heart resurfaced.
The night she had been kidnapped.
The mysterious masked warrior who had appeared like a divine guardian, defeating her captors before disappearing without leaving behind even his name.
She had never forgotten those eyes.
Nor the feeling of safety they had brought her.
With great difficulty, she struggled to sit upright, wincing as pain coursed through her body.
Her voice was weak, barely louder than a whisper.
"...Is it... really you...?"
Everyone turned toward the Princess.
Indhumati’s eyes never left Devaratha.
"The one who... saved me..."
"...when those men kidnapped me..."
Her lips curved into a faint, exhausted smile.
"...the mysterious masked man."
Silence filled the tent once more.
Queen Devaki looked back and forth between her daughter and Devaratha in surprise.
The Crown Prince’s brows rose in astonishment.
Even King Padmanabha Varma had not expected those words.
Indhumati continued softly,
"I knew ...it was you."
Her gaze remained fixed upon the lone emerald eye visible through his hair.
"No matter how much you tried to hide your face... your eyes betrayed you."
For the first time since revealing himself...
A quiet chuckle escaped Devaratha.
"So..."
"You remembered."
There was neither pride nor surprise in his voice.
Only quiet amusement.
He gently brushed a few loose strands of hair away from his face before turning toward Queen Devaki.
"The purification I performed has only delayed the Tantra."
"It has not severed the connection."
His expression became serious once more.
"If Vikrama Varma is truly conducting the ritual... then ending it at its source is the only way to save the Princess completely."
He shifted his gaze toward King Padmanabha Varma and the Crown Prince.
"I will accompany both of you."
"We’re going to the Mahamantri’s tent."
"The situation there can no longer be left unattended."
King Padmanabha Varma gave a firm nod.
This time...
There was not the slightest trace of doubt in his eyes.
He had witnessed enough.
The mysterious traveler he had mistaken for an ordinary merchant had become the greatest ally he could ask for.
Devaratha then turned toward Shakuni.
"Stay here."
"Protect the Queen and Princess Indhumati."
"Until I return, no one enters this tent without your permission."
Shakuni rested his sword across his shoulder and nodded without the slightest hesitation.
"As you command."
Then, after a brief pause, a crooked grin spread across his face.
"Still..."
He let out a theatrical sigh.
-Sigh!
"When your wife hears about this, I’m definitely filing a complaint."
He pointed accusingly at Devaratha.
"My dear brother-in-law has developed a terrible habit."
"He works everyone around him without mercy."
"I left my sister Gandhara hoping for a peaceful journey."
"Instead, I’ve been fighting assassins, exposing conspiracies, and now I’m apparently guarding a royal tent."
He clicked his tongue dramatically.
-Tch!
"When I see my sister Gandhari again..."
"I’m telling her everything."
A faint smile appeared on Queen Devaki’s face despite the tension surrounding them.
Even the Crown Prince found himself suppressing a laugh.
Only Devaratha shook his head helplessly.
"I expected nothing less."
Shakuni flashed a satisfied grin.
"Good."
"At least you’re prepared for the scolding."
With the arrangements settled, Devaratha turned toward the torn entrance of the tent.
Beyond it, the sounds of battle still echoed throughout the royal encampment.
Somewhere amidst that chaos...
Vikrama Varma’s ritual was nearing its completion.
And every passing heartbeat brought Princess Indhumati one step closer to death.
Without another word, Devaratha walked out of the ruined tent, King Padmanabha Varma and the Crown Prince falling into step beside him.
The time for suspicion had ended.
Now...
It was time to confront the traitor.
The moment Devaratha stepped out of Queen Devaki’s ruined tent, the full extent of the chaos unfolded before his eyes.
The once peaceful royal encampment at Malikavana Village had transformed into a battlefield.
Torches lay scattered across the ground, setting abandoned carts and torn banners ablaze. Warriors wearing the same royal insignia clashed against one another with desperate fury.
The greatest problem, however, was not the strength of the enemy.
It was uncertainty.
Every soldier loyal to the throne fought with hesitation.
The traitors wore the same armor.
Carried the same banners.
Shouted the same battle cries.
No one knew who would suddenly turn their blade against them.
That hesitation was costing lives.
Devaratha calmly surveyed the battlefield.
His emerald eyes swept across the chaos for only a brief moment before stopping.
"I see..."
He slowly raised both of his hands.
From behind him, the divine twin swords, Amba Tejas, answered their master’s call.
The celestial blades shot through the air like twin comets before gracefully settling into Devaratha’s waiting hands.
The instant his fingers wrapped around their hilts...
A suffocating pressure descended upon the battlefield.
Every warrior instinctively looked toward him.
Without saying a word...
Devaratha crossed the two divine swords before him.
Then...
CLANG!
The blades collided.
The sound that erupted was unlike the ringing of ordinary steel.
It was deep. Ancient. Majestic.
The clash gave birth to a visible shockwave that expanded across the entire royal encampment.
The air itself rippled.
Dust exploded outward.
The burning flames bent beneath the force.
Every banner snapped violently.
The sound rolled across Malikavana Village like the roar of a divine bell.
For a heartbeat...
The battlefield fell completely silent.
Both the King’s soldiers and Vikrama Varma’s followers instinctively stopped fighting.
Every eye turned toward the lone figure standing before the royal tent.
Devaratha lowered his swords.
His calm voice, empowered by divine energy, echoed across the battlefield with absolute clarity.
"Soldiers of Pushkarnya!"
No one dared interrupt.
"The enemy has hidden among your own ranks."
"They wear your armor."
"They speak your language."
"They call themselves your brothers."
"But they are not."
His gaze swept over the stunned army.
"Look at the forearms of the men beside you."
"If you find the mark of a skull tattooed upon their flesh..."
"They are traitors."
"They serve Vikrama Varma."
"They have already abandoned their oath to the throne."
A ripple of shock spread through the battlefield.
Many soldiers instinctively grabbed the wrists of the men fighting beside them.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Some immediately recoiled.
Hidden beneath leather guards and sleeves...
A black skull had been tattooed onto the forearms of numerous soldiers.
The symbol of their secret allegiance.
For a brief instant...
No one moved.
Then King Padmanabha Varma stepped forward.
His voice thundered across the battlefield with the unquestionable authority of a king.
"Hear my command!"
Every loyal soldier immediately turned toward their ruler.
"Any man bearing the skull mark upon his forearm... is hereby declared a traitor to the Kingdom of Pushkarnya."
"There shall be no mercy."
"There shall be no hesitation."
"Execute every one of them."
The royal decree echoed throughout the camp.
"By the King’s command!"
The confusion that had crippled the royal army disappeared almost instantly.
The soldiers who had been forced to fight blindly finally had certainty.
Now they knew whom to trust.
Now they knew whom to strike.
A captain seized the wrist of the soldier beside him.
A black skull stared back at him.
Without hesitation...
His sword flashed.
Another group discovered three men attempting to conceal their forearms beneath leather bracers.
The moment the coverings were torn away, the same sinister symbol was revealed.
"Traitors!"
The loyal soldiers surged forward with renewed determination.
All across the battlefield, hidden agents of Vikrama Varma were exposed one after another.
The tide of battle shifted almost immediately.
The advantage the conspirators had enjoyed through secrecy vanished in a matter of moments.
For the first time since the fighting began...
The soldiers of Pushkarnya were no longer swinging their swords in uncertainty.
They were fighting with purpose.
And the men who had believed they could betray their kingdom from within suddenly found themselves hunted instead.
The effect of Devaratha’s revelation was immediate.
Only moments earlier, the battlefield had been consumed by uncertainty.
The loyal soldiers of Pushkarnya had been forced to fight with restraint, constantly fearing that the man beside them might suddenly turn his sword against them.
That single hesitation had cost countless lives as the traitors exploited the confusion to launch surprise attacks from within the royal ranks.
But now...
Everything had changed.
The hidden advantage that Vikrama Varma’s followers had relied upon vanished in an instant.
One after another, soldiers began grabbing the forearms of those fighting beside them.
The moment a black skull tattoo was revealed...
There were no questions.
No hesitation.
The King’s order echoed in every warrior’s mind.
"Execute the traitors."
"There’s one!"
"He bears the skull mark!"
"Traitor!"
The battlefield erupted once again.
This time, however, the cries were no longer filled with confusion.
They were filled with certainty.
The loyal soldiers of Pushkarnya vastly outnumbered the conspirators. Earlier, that numerical advantage had meant nothing because they had been fighting blind.
Now...
They finally knew exactly who their enemies were.
The tide of battle shifted with astonishing speed.
Groups of traitors that had been pressing the royal army back only moments before suddenly found themselves surrounded from every direction.
Their carefully prepared ambush had collapsed.
One by one...
They fell.
Meanwhile...
Devaratha advanced through the battlefield alongside King Padmanabha Varma and the Crown Prince.
None of them slowed their pace.
Their destination remained unchanged.
Vikrama Varma’s tent.
The sounds of battle followed them wherever they went.
Several traitorous soldiers noticed the three approaching and immediately charged.
"Stop them!"
"Buy the Mahamantri more time!"
The first man had barely raised his sword.
A golden flash crossed his vision.
Before he even realized what had happened...
His weapon slid cleanly into two pieces.
"...."
A heartbeat later...
So did he.
Without pausing for even a single step, Devaratha casually swung one of the Amba Tejas twin swords.
The divine blade sliced through armor, steel, and flesh as though none of them existed.
Another assassin leaped from the side.
The second sword answered.
Its arc was so clean that the man’s body remained standing for a brief moment before collapsing apart.
The King watched in stunned silence.
"...."
There was no wasted movement.
No unnecessary flourish.
Every swing appeared effortless.
Almost casual.
Yet every strike ended a life instantly.
To Devaratha...
It was as though he was merely brushing aside blades of grass growing across a path.
Nothing was capable of slowing his advance.
Another group rushed forward together, hoping that numbers would overwhelm him.
They never reached striking distance.
The twin swords moved like extensions of Devaratha’s own will.
One swept horizontally.
The other descended vertically.
Steel shattered.
Bodies fell.
Blood painted the earth behind them.
Devaratha never even broke his stride.
King Padmanabha Varma and the Crown Prince exchanged silent glances.
Neither of them had witnessed such overwhelming mastery before.
It no longer resembled swordsmanship.
It resembled inevitability.
Every enemy who stepped before Devaratha simply... Ceased to exist.
Within moments...
The three arrived before the largest tent in the encampment.
Vikrama Varma’s command tent.
The entrance was already surrounded by dozens of armed soldiers.
Unlike the traitors scattered across the battlefield... These men showed no fear.
Their armor was stained with blood.
Many of them were already wounded.
Yet none took a single step backward.
Instead...
They tightened their grip around their weapons.
Their eyes reflected absolute resolve.
One veteran stepped forward and planted his spear firmly into the ground.
"You shall not pass."
Another slowly drew his sword.
"The ritual is almost complete."
"We only need a little more time."
A third smiled bitterly.
"We know we will die today."
He looked directly at King Padmanabha Varma.
"But before our deaths ...not even the King himself will enter this tent."
One after another, the remaining guards stepped into formation.
No one retreated.
No one begged for mercy.
They had already accepted death.
Their only purpose now was to purchase a few more precious moments for Vikrama Varma.
Behind them...
From within the tent...
A deep crimson light pulsed through the canvas.
The sinister chanting had grown louder.
The oppressive aura pouring from inside became heavier with every passing heartbeat.
Whatever ritual Vikrama Varma was performing...
It was approaching its final stage.
Devaratha’s emerald eyes remained fixed upon the tent.
Then he calmly raised one of the Amba Tejas twin swords.
His expression never changed.
"If your loyalty had been given to your kingdom..."
"...you would have been remembered as honorable soldiers."
He slowly pointed the radiant blade toward the line of warriors blocking the entrance.
"But you chose to offer your lives to a traitor."
A gentle breeze swept across the battlefield.
The golden sword in his hand began to hum.
"Then allow me..."
"...to grant you the end you have already accepted."
*******************************
(Author note:)
I hope you guys give me your opinion and idea’s.
-->
Don’t forget to review guys...
Comments