Chapter 215: Chapter 213: Summon’s Army... Indra’s Helplessness... Karna Complete’s His Gurukul...
(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...
-------------------------------------------------
Far beneath the earth...
Far below the sacred soil of Malikavana...
Beyond layers of ancient stone and roots that had grown undisturbed for centuries...
A pair of crimson eyes slowly opened.
Darkness stretched endlessly in every direction.
An enormous cavern, forgotten by the world, lay hidden beneath the village.
At its very center stood a solitary figure.
Or rather...
He had remained standing there for countless years.
Pushpasura.
His entire body was entwined by roots as thick as serpents.
Ancient vines had wrapped themselves around his limbs, torso, and neck until they had become as hard as stone.
Moss and flowers had grown over them, turning his prison into what appeared to be a part of the earth itself.
The sacred flora that covered Malikavana Village had not merely beautified the land.
They had become the chains of his prison.
For ages...
They had kept the Rakshasa King asleep.
Pushpasura slowly flexed his fingers.
A deep cracking sound echoed through the underground cavern.
The roots binding his arm snapped apart.
Then another. And another.
One after another, the ancient restraints burst apart under the overwhelming strength returning to his body.
He rolled his shoulders.
The roots wrapped around his chest exploded into splinters.
His neck tilted from side to side, producing a series of thunderous cracks.
"So..."
A slow grin spread across his face.
-Grin!
"I am truly free."
He planted both hands against the earth above him.
Then... He pushed.
BOOOOOOM!
The ground above bulged violently.
Great cracks spread across the underground chamber as Pushpasura drove himself upward through solid rock.
Stone shattered.
Tree roots snapped.
The earth trembled.
Like a beast clawing its way out of its grave...
Pushpasura continued ascending.
Moments later...
The ground outside Malikavana suddenly erupted.
A massive pillar of soil and shattered stone shot high into the night sky as Pushpasura burst onto the surface.
Fresh air filled his lungs for the first time in countless years.
He slowly looked around.
Everywhere he turned...
The sacred flowers of Malikavana swayed gently beneath the moonlight.
Many of them stood taller than he did.
Pushpasura’s expression twitched.
"...."
He looked at one flower.
Then another.
His eye began to twitch again.
His mind unwillingly recalled a certain emerald-eyed king.
’If you wish to stand above this world... perhaps grow tall enough to cast a proper shadow first.’
The words echoed inside his head.
His jaw clenched.
That infuriating smile.
That calm expression.
That mocking tone.
"...Devaratha."
The name escaped his lips like venom.
His fists tightened until his claws dug into his own palms.
"Mock my height..."
"...will you?"
The veins across his forehead bulged.
"I shall grind your bones into dust!"
With a furious roar, Pushpasura threw his head toward the heavens.
-ROOOOOOOOAAAAARRRR!!
The sound rolled across the land like an earthquake.
The clouds above Malikavana churned violently.
Then...
The very sky cracked.
A jagged fissure spread through the atmosphere itself.
At first it was no larger than a thread.
Then it widened. And widened.
Until reality finally tore apart.
A colossal portal of darkness opened overhead.
From within its endless depths came countless crimson eyes.
A deep chorus of monstrous growls echoed from beyond the rift.
The seal had been broken.
Not only upon Pushpasura...
But upon the prison that had confined his legion.
Long ago, when Pushpasura had been forced into his endless slumber, his Rakshasa army had also been imprisoned inside a separate pocket realm, unable to enter Bhuloka without their lord.
Now...
Their king had awakened.
The ancient seal could no longer contain them.
The cracks rapidly spread across the dimensional prison.
One after another...
The Rakshasas stepped through the portal.
Some towered over elephants.
Others possessed four arms, horned heads, or bodies covered in scales as black as night.
Some carried enormous clubs fashioned from bone.
Others wielded jagged blades that dripped with dark energy.
Winged Rakshasas descended from the rift in swarms.
Massive beast-like demons crawled through on all fours.
The earth shook beneath the weight of each new arrival.
The first hundred became a thousand.
The thousand became several thousand.
Still they continued emerging.
The portal showed no sign of closing.
Pushpasura stood before the ever-growing horde, a cruel smile slowly spreading across his face.
At last...
His legion had returned.
His crimson eyes gazed toward the distant horizon where the Kingdom of Pushkarnya lay.
"Prepare yourselves..."
His voice echoed across the assembled Rakshasas.
"The age of peace has ended."
"The kingdoms of Bhuloka shall remember why our race was once feared."
He slowly clenched his fist.
"And when I find that damn mortal..."
The smile on his face became frighteningly calm.
"I’ll make certain that the last thing he remembers... is looking up at someone taller than himself."
The Rakshasa legion answered with a deafening roar that shook the heavens, their voices merging into a single thunderous war cry as the army of darkness began to gather behind its newly awakened king.
Meanwhile...
Far above
In the celestial realm of
The magnificent court of the Devas had fallen into an unusual silence.
"...."
"...."
"...."
The jeweled pillars that adorned the divine assembly reflected countless rays of heavenly light, yet not a single god present admired their beauty.
Every gaze was fixed upon the celestial mirror floating before the throne.
Within its shimmering surface...
The image of Pushpasura emerging from beneath Malikavana Village played out in perfect clarity.
The Rakshasa King’s roar.
The shattering of the ancient seal.
The dimensional rift opening across the heavens.
The endless legions pouring into Bhuloka.
Nothing escaped the vision of the gods.
Seated upon his throne, Lord Indra watched the unfolding events without uttering a single word.
His fingers slowly tightened around the Vajra resting beside him.
His expression grew increasingly solemn.
"...He has awakened."
The words were barely audible.
Yet everyone in the court heard them.
For the others, Pushpasura was a dangerous Rakshasa whose return threatened the balance of Bhuloka.
For Indra...
The name carried memories.
Memories he had no desire to relive.
His thoughts drifted back thousands of years.
Back to the war that had shaken the heavens themselves.
He remembered Pushpasura marching upon the gates of Indralok with an army so vast that the skies had disappeared beneath the wings of Rakshasas.
He remembered the endless battles.
The countless celestial warriors who had fallen.
He remembered the arrogance burning within Pushpasura’s crimson eyes.
The Rakshasa had never sought merely to conquer kingdoms upon Bhuloka.
He had wanted something far greater.
Indra’s throne.
Like so many before him...
Pushpasura had believed that defeating the King of the Devas was the natural proof of his supremacy.
Indra let out a weary sigh.
"It never changes..."
One of the assembled Devas turned toward him.
"My Lord?"
Indra gave a bitter smile.
"No matter who rises to power..."
"The first ambition that takes root within their hearts is always the same."
He looked toward the celestial mirror.
"They all wish to challenge the throne of Indralok."
"As though it were their birthright."
"As though becoming powerful alone grants them the authority to wage war upon the heavens."
His gaze remained fixed upon Pushpasura.
"He was no different."
The memories became clearer.
Pushpasura’s relentless assaults.
The battles that had stretched on without end.
The Rakshasa’s monstrous resilience.
Even Indra admitted, if only to himself, that Pushpasura had been one of the most troublesome adversaries he had ever faced.
In the end...
Victory had not come through strength alone.
Lord Vishnu Himself had intervened.
Not through overwhelming force.
But through wisdom.
Through a carefully crafted plan that ultimately deceived Pushpasura and led him into the deep slumber that had imprisoned him beneath Malikavana for countless ages.
Had that plan failed...
Indra slowly closed his eyes.
"...The consequences would have been catastrophic."
At that moment, the reassuring words Lord Vishnu had spoken to him before echoed once more within his mind.
"Do not concern yourself, Indra."
"When the time comes..."
"My son Devaratha will handle Pushpasura."
Indra had complete faith in Lord Vishnu’s words.
He knew they would never be spoken lightly.
Yet...
Even with that assurance...
He could not completely quiet the unease in his heart.
His concern was not born from doubt in Devaratha.
It came from experience.
He knew exactly how dangerous Pushpasura truly was.
He had fought him before.
He had witnessed firsthand the devastation the Rakshasa was capable of unleashing when left unchecked.
Now...
Pushpasura had awakened once again.
His legion had returned.
Another great war was inevitable.
Indra slowly rose from his throne and continued watching the celestial mirror in silence.
Far below, on the lands of Bhuloka...
One king was gathering his armies.
Another was gathering his demons.
And somewhere between those two forces...
The fate of the world was quietly beginning to tilt toward the greatest conflict it had seen in ages.
Helplessly...
Lord Indra could do nothing but watch.
"...."
The celestial mirror continued to reveal the horrifying sight unfolding upon Bhuloka.
Every passing moment saw more Rakshasas emerge from the shattered dimensional prison.
Their numbers continued to swell.
Hundreds became thousands.
Thousands continued to multiply.
The dark legion gathered behind Pushpasura like an endless tide, each new arrival strengthening the army that would soon march upon the kingdoms of men.
Indra’s grip around the Vajra tightened.
He knew exactly what such an army was capable of.
Yet the laws governing the Devas prevented him from descending to Bhuloka simply because a Rakshasa had awakened.
The fate of the mortal realm had to be decided by those destined to shape it.
All he could do... Was watch.
And wait.
Mahendragiri Mountains...
Far away...
Upon the sacred peaks of the Mahendragiri Mountains...
A very different scene unfolded.
The cool mountain winds swept gently through the ancient ashram where generations of warriors had been forged beneath the guidance of Lord Parashurama.
The training grounds, scarred by countless battles and years of relentless practice, stood silent.
At their center...
A young warrior knelt respectfully.
Karna.
His years of rigorous training had finally come to an end.
His body bore countless scars earned through discipline rather than war.
His once youthful features had matured, and the determination in his eyes had only grown sharper under the watchful guidance of his guru.
Standing before him, Lord Parashurama held a magnificent bow.
Its body shimmered with a divine radiance.
Golden engravings flowed across its dark frame like streams of molten sunlight.
An overwhelming aura of victory surrounded the weapon.
Lord Parashurama looked at his disciple with unmistakable satisfaction.
"Karna."
"You have endured every trial I placed before you."
"You have mastered every lesson I was willing to teach."
"There is nothing more that remains for me to impart."
He lowered the bow toward his disciple.
"Accept this."
Karna respectfully extended both hands.
The moment the divine bow rested upon his palms, he felt an immense surge of power flowing through it.
His eyes widened slightly.
"...Vijaya."
Lord Parashurama nodded.
"The bow that symbolizes victory."
"From this day onward... It belongs to you."
Karna immediately bowed until his forehead touched the ground.
"This disciple offers his deepest gratitude, Gurudev."
Lord Parashurama smiled faintly.
"Rise."
Karna obeyed.
As he stood once more, Parashurama’s expression gradually became serious.
"There remains only one thing left."
"Your Guru Dakshina."
Karna immediately folded his palms.
"Command me, Gurudev."
"Whatever you ask... I shall accomplish."
Lord Parashurama slowly turned his gaze toward the distant horizon.
"The time has come."
"The first test awaiting you beyond this mountain has already begun."
Karna frowned slightly.
"What must I do?"
Lord Parashurama answered calmly.
"Travel immediately to the Kingdom of Pushkarnya."
"There..."
"...you will find Devaratha."
A faint smile appeared on the sage’s face.
"Your fellow disciple."
"He now stands at the center of a war that will determine the fate of Bhuloka."
Karna’s expression immediately sharpened.
"Devara..."
The name brought back countless memories.
Training beneath the scorching sun.
Crossing swords until their hands bled.
Competing relentlessly while pushing each other to greater heights.
Although Devaratha had completed his training earlier and departed the ashram, Karna had never forgotten the promise he had made.
Lord Parashurama continued,
"Pushpasura has awakened."
"A great war is inevitable. You will march to Pushkarnya."
"And you will stand beside Devaratha."
"For this battle... you shall fight as brothers."
The words awakened an old memory within Karna.
Years ago...
On the very day Devaratha had left the Mahendragiri Ashram...
Karna had stood before him and spoken with unwavering conviction.
"The next time we meet..."
"I will no longer be the student trailing behind you."
"I will become the shield standing at your side."
"No enemy shall reach you while I yet breathe."
Remembering those words, Karna slowly tightened his grip around the Vijaya Bow.
A determined smile spread across his face.
He looked directly at his guru and bowed deeply.
"I understand. My training is complete. My promise remains unchanged."
"When I reach Pushkarnya... I shall stand beside Devara."
"If this war seeks his life... it will first have to pass through me."
Lord Parashurama looked upon his disciple with quiet approval.
"The road ahead will not be easy."
"The enemies you face will not be ordinary Rakshasas."
Karna nodded without the slightest hesitation.
"I did not seek an easy path, Gurudev."
"I sought the path worthy of your teachings."
The mountain wind swept across the training grounds as Karna slung the divine Vijaya Bow across his back.
Without looking back, he began descending the sacred mountain.
His destination...
Pushkarnya.
Where destiny awaited the reunion of two disciples of Lord Parashurama, forged by the same guru and soon to stand together against the darkness that threatened all of Bhuloka.
*******************************
(Author note:)
I hope you guys give me your opinion and idea’s.
-->
Don’t forget to review guys...
Comments