Chapter 233: Chapter 231: Your Pride Is Huge As Mountain... Let Me Level It Up...
(A/N):
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The two remained locked against one another.
Hanuman’s divine Gada and Vajrakeshin’s colossal war hammer ground against each other with a deafening metallic roar, neither weapon yielding even an inch.
The pressure beneath their feet became so immense that the earth itself began to crack apart, deep fissures spreading outward like the roots of an ancient tree.
Around them, both armies instinctively shifted their battles elsewhere.
No sane warrior wished to be caught between the two titans.
Vajrakeshin’s crimson eyes remained fixed upon Hanuman.
The playful smile on the Vanara’s face had not disappeared despite discovering the secret hidden within his weapon.
Instead...
Hanuman had smiled.
Not the smile of someone cornered.
The smile of someone who had understood.
Vajrakeshin slowly eased the pressure on his hammer before leaping backwards several paces.
Hanuman did not pursue him.
He simply rested the Gada upon his shoulder once more, calmly watching the Rakshasa General.
For several long moments...
Neither of them spoke.
Then Vajrakeshin laughed.
A deep, booming laugh that echoed across the battlefield.
"Hahaha!"
"I must admit... you’ve surprised me."
He looked down at the enormous war hammer resting in his hands before raising it slightly.
"This weapon has accompanied me through countless battlefields."
"I have crossed blades with kings, sages, celestial warriors and Rakshasa champions."
He slowly pointed the head of the hammer toward Hanuman.
"Yet almost none of them realized what it was doing."
"Most believed I simply possessed greater strength."
"Others convinced themselves their own power had failed."
His eyes narrowed with genuine curiosity.
"But you... You understood it after only a handful of clashes."
There was no mockery in his voice now.
Only respect.
"You didn’t merely notice that your strength was being diminished."
"You understood that it wasn’t my body... it was my weapon."
Hanuman simply smiled without answering.
Vajrakeshin clicked his tongue in appreciation.
"What remarkable battle sense."
"I’ve never seen a Vanara capable of reading a weapon so quickly."
Of course...
He knew nothing of the warrior standing before him.
Neither Vajrakeshin nor the other Rakshasa Generals had ever fought during the age of Lord Rama.
Long before those events unfolded,
Pushpasura and his followers had been sealed away within the subspace prison after their defeat.
To them, Hanuman was merely powerful Vanara whose name had somehow survived through the ages.
They had no idea that this smiling figure had crossed weapons with some of the greatest beings to ever exist.
Vajrakeshin lowered his hammer.
A thoughtful expression crossed his face.
"You’re wasted among these humans."
Hanuman raised an eyebrow.
The Rakshasa General continued.
"A warrior like you deserves a battlefield worthy of his strength."
He spread one massive arm toward the Rakshasa army stretching across the horizon.
"Join me."
"My assault division has never lacked strong warriors... but it has never possessed someone like you."
His grin returned.
"Fight beneath my command."
"I’ll give you battles that will shake the Three Worlds."
"You’ll never be restrained."
"You’ll never be questioned."
"You’ll only need to do one thing."
He pointed his hammer toward the allied army.
"Destroy."
Several Rakshasas nearby looked at one another in surprise.
None of them had expected their brutal general to recruit an enemy in the middle of a war.
Yet Vajrakeshin appeared completely serious.
Strength respected strength.
That was the only law he truly acknowledged.
Hanuman stared at him for a moment.
Then...
A quiet chuckle escaped his lips.
-Chuckle!
"Heh..."
It gradually grew into warm laughter.
"Hahaha..."
He shook his head gently.
"You truly are an interesting fellow."
Vajrakeshin folded his arms.
"I’ll take that as a compliment."
Hanuman’s laughter slowly faded.
The warmth in his expression disappeared.
The smile remained...
But something within his golden eyes changed.
The carefree amusement vanished.
In its place settled a cold, unwavering resolve.
The change was so sudden that even Vajrakeshin unconsciously tightened his grip around his hammer.
Hanuman’s voice, when he spoke again, was calm.
"I have served only one master."
He gently rested his palm upon the handle of his Gada.
"My heart..."
"My strength..."
"My very existence..."
"They were offered long ago."
His gaze became distant for the briefest moment, as though remembering a beloved figure from another age.
"To my Lord ...Sri Rama."
The moment that sacred name left his lips...
The atmosphere itself seemed to grow heavier.
Hanuman looked directly into Vajrakeshin’s eyes.
"You speak of serving beneath another."
"You ask me to abandon the Lord whose feet I have carried in my heart for ages beyond your imagination."
A faint breeze stirred around him.
"...."
"...."
"...."
There was no anger in his voice.
Only absolute certainty.
"That alone would have been enough for me to refuse."
His fingers slowly tightened around the shaft of the Gada.
"But you made another mistake."
His blue eyes sharpened.
"You spoke as though my Lord could be replaced."
The ground beneath Hanuman’s feet cracked.
"You insulted the very name that gives meaning to my existence before..."
For the first time since their battle began...
A trace of killing intent escaped the immortal Vanara.
It wasn’t wild. It wasn’t overflowing.
It was quiet. Controlled.
Which made it all the more terrifying.
Hanuman slowly lifted his Gada.
His gaze never left Vajrakeshin.
"I had intended only to stop you."
He took a single step forward.
"But now... I shall make certain this battlefield becomes your final resting place."
The smile had completely vanished.
Only the unwavering devotion of the greatest servant of Lord Rama remained.
Across from him, Vajrakeshin instinctively adjusted his stance.
His warrior’s instincts screamed louder than ever before.
Only now did he realize...
The Vanara who had been smiling and joking throughout the battle...
Had not been fighting him with true intent.
Vajrakeshin’s expression twisted.
The respect he had briefly shown Hanuman vanished, replaced by burning fury.
"So be it!"
he roared.
"If you choose to die clinging to the name of a king long gone, then I’ll grant your wish!"
His voice grew louder with every word as he hurled insult after insult toward Lord Rama, hoping to provoke the Vanara into a reckless charge.
Yet...
Before he could finish his sentence...
The sunlight above him suddenly disappeared.
A vast shadow swallowed the ground.
Vajrakeshin instinctively stopped speaking.
"...."
His warrior’s instincts screamed louder than they had at any point since the battle began.
Slowly... Very slowly... He looked upward.
His confident expression froze.
"...What...?"
Hanuman was no longer the same size.
The immortal Vanara’s body was expanding before his very eyes.
His shoulders rose above the battlefield.
His arms became like ancient pillars.
His golden form continued growing until he towered over the armies themselves, his presence rivaling a mountain standing amidst the plains of Malikavana.
Every soldier nearby, human and Rakshasa alike, unconsciously stepped backward.
Some dropped their weapons altogether.
Others simply stared upward in speechless disbelief.
Even warriors fighting far away paused as Hanuman’s colossal form dominated the battlefield.
The clouds drifted around his shoulders.
His long tail coiled behind him like the trunk of a mighty serpent.
The Gada resting in his hand had expanded alongside him, becoming a weapon worthy of a giant.
Hanuman’s gaze fell upon the now tiny figure of Vajrakeshin.
His voice rolled across the battlefield like the roar of thunder.
"You carry pride as though it were greater than the mountains."
The very air trembled with every word.
"You believe strength exists only to crush those beneath you."
"You mistake cruelty for power... and arrogance for greatness."
Hanuman slowly raised one enormous foot.
"Then today... I shall level that mountain of pride."
Only then did Vajrakeshin finally move.
For the first time since the battle began, genuine alarm appeared in the Rakshasa General’s eyes.
He roared defiantly and poured every ounce of his Yogic energy into his colossal war hammer.
Dark energy erupted around the weapon as he swung it upward with everything he possessed, intending to stop the descending foot.
The hammer met Hanuman’s sole.
For a heartbeat...
It held.
Then came a sound that seemed to shake heaven and earth alike.
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!
The battlefield convulsed violently.
A colossal shockwave raced across the plains, sending dust, shattered weapons, and loose stones flying in every direction.
Warriors from both armies struggled to remain standing as the earth buckled beneath the unimaginable force.
When the dust finally began to settle...
Hanuman slowly lifted his foot.
An enormous footprint had been pressed into the battlefield, so deep that it resembled the basin of a newly formed crater.
At its center...
Vajrakeshin lay defeated.
His armor had been completely crushed beneath the overwhelming force,
And his once-mighty war hammer had been driven deep into the earth beside him, almost entirely buried by the impact.
The proud Rakshasa General, who moments earlier had shaken the battlefield with every swing of his weapon, could no longer rise.
Around the crater, an eerie silence spread.
Rakshasas stared in disbelief.
The soldiers of Pushkarnya and Trivenivrata looked on with awe.
One of Pushpasura’s Twelve Battle Generals...
A warrior feared by friend and foe alike...
Had been overwhelmed by a single demonstration of Hanuman’s divine might.
Hanuman gradually returned to his normal form.
He looked down at the shattered battlefield with calm, unwavering eyes.
"The strength granted by Dharma..."
he said quietly,
"...is never meant to nourish pride."
"It exists to protect."
With that, he rested his Gada upon his shoulder once more and turned his gaze toward the rest of the battlefield, where the war still raged and many more lives depended upon him.
While Hanuman’s clash with Vajrakeshin shook an entire section of the battlefield...
Ashwatthama continued his relentless advance through another.
His chariot raced across the fog-covered plains with astonishing speed, guided by an experienced charioteer who had long since learned to trust the son of Dronacharya’s instincts more than his own eyes. Around them, Devaratha’s Mask Senses continued to rob the Rakshasas of their greatest advantages, allowing Ashwatthama to move through the battlefield like a phantom.
The Gandiva-like rhythm of his bowstring never ceased.
Every draw...
Every release...
Claimed another life.
An elite Rakshasa unit attempted to reinforce their collapsing left flank.
Ashwatthama calmly drew a blue Astra.
The arrow whistled through the mist before erupting into hundreds of razor-sharp streams of water that sliced through armor as though it were woven cloth. The formation collapsed before its commander could even issue an order.
Without slowing his chariot, Ashwatthama had already nocked another arrow.
Farther ahead, a group of Rakshasa shamans stood chanting around a dark ritual circle, attempting to dispel the fog.
They never completed the chant.
A blazing Agneyastra descended among them.
The fire blossomed like a crimson flower before swallowing the entire ritual site.
The chanting ceased forever.
Ashwatthama’s expression remained unchanged.
His attention never lingered upon the enemies he defeated.
His eyes constantly searched for the next threat.
The next commander.
The next strategic position.
The next weakness in Pushpasura’s army.
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(Author note:)
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