Note :- Siddharth Raj skill:
Ultimate final strike:-
Type - ultimate finisher
Power effect - weapon get destroy convert into dust instantly. If weapon not there it also effect hand also.
Cooldown time:- 5 minutes
After every attack wait 5 minutes to use.
...
Ravin staggered to his feet, his entire body drenched in dark, liquid blood. His movements were sluggish—almost zombie-like.
The artifact he had used, a tiny, beetle-shaped device, was designed to reanimate the dead. But using it on himself had pushed his body to its limit. He could feel his consciousness slipping… pure instinct beginning to take over.
"Not… yet…" he whispered, his voice a raw rasp.
With trembling hands, he pulled a small vial from his belt—a shimmering blue liquid that glowed faintly in the deepening forest shadows. He uncorked it with his teeth and drank the contents in a single, desperate gulp.
A sharp, internal chill spread through him. His breathing steadied. Sense returned to his eyes, and he carefully examined his own body. He felt no pain from his injuries, and the bleeding had stopped.
He spoke in a low, satisfied voice: "Good… now I have full control. Plus, next time, nobody will be able to kill me, because now I am a zombie."
Ravin took a silent breath and began moving deeper into the forest. He needed to find Cetana.
Hiding behind a massive oak, he watched Madhav and Mohit talking in the distance. He listened carefully. His heart sank as he learned the devastating truth—Cetana's body had turned to ash, completely destroyed.
Ravin closed his eyes, a single moment of sorrow cutting through his new, cold state. "So she's gone…"
But he didn't have time to grieve. Cetana had instructed him to meet her mother in the Elve Territory, and deeper within it, at the Grand Temple.
Inside the Elven Territory
Ravin moved like a shadow, with the absolute silence of a seasoned thief. Elven guards patrolled the paths, their silver armor glinting under the sunset light. He kept low, weaving between the glowing trees, until the majestic structure appeared before him—the Elf Grand Temple.
It was breathtaking. Tall pillars were carved with ancient elven art. Elegant arches were shaped like intertwined leaves and the silhouettes of stylized horses and other mythical animals. Statues of a serene goddess, her form repeated in various divine postures, adorned the structure, strikingly resembling the style of grand temples from ancient India.
Inside, soft hymns echoed. Elven maidens in white robes arranged offerings. Soldiers stood watch, their spears humming with contained magical energy.
Ravin pressed himself against a column, moving silently along the edge. He had one goal—find Cetana's mother.
As he passed deeper into the temple corridor, the walls around him transformed into ancient stories brought to life:
On his left, the carving of Lord Vishnu's Vamana Avatar placing His foot upon King Bali's head—depicted with such skill it felt as though the stone might breathe. On his right, the legendary scene of Samudra Manthana—gods and demons churning the cosmic ocean, with the waves carved in swirling, powerful spirals.
Ravin paused, just for a heartbeat, mesmerized.
"Elves… your temple is even more magnificent than I expected ....hmmm but important question is Cetana where is your mother," he whispered, a brief flicker of his former self surfacing.
Then he moved on, silent and determined. He had come too far to turn back.
As Ravin stepped deeper into the ancient temple, the grand Garbhagriha opened before him—vast, silent, sacred. At its center stood a magnificent idol of Goddess Aranyani, glowing softly in the firelight of the yagna vessel placed before her.
Kneeling around the flames were an old elf woman and ten elven maidens, eyes closed in prayer.
The moment Ravin crossed the threshold, all ten elven maidens snapped their eyes open. In a heartbeat, they rose, weapons drawn, surrounding him with lethal precision.
Ravin raised both hands in surrender. "Wait! Please—listen. I'm not here to fight. This is a misunderstanding. I came because Cetana sent me!"
One of the elves narrowed her eyes, blade steady. "Why would Lady Cetana send you, a weak, bleeding human?"
Ravin exhaled sharply. He was still reeling from the blood loss and the artifact's jarring reanimation. "My condition is poor because of severe blood loss. I am here because… I found the Golden Curse Coin."
Gasps rippled through the circle. Another elf stepped forward, her expression grim. "You claim Cetana sent you—and that you carry the cursed coin?"
"We did have it," Ravin admitted, desperation leaking into his voice. "But not right now—"
A third elf cut him off, her voice laced with suspicion. "What are you saying? First, you say Cetana sent you, then you claim you had the coin but no longer possess it. Speak clearly!"
Ravin clenched his jaw, his patience worn thin. "Fine. I'll say it plainly. Lady Cetana… is no longer alive."
All ten elves froze. Their grips tightened on their weapons, fury flashing in their eyes like reflected fire. A fourth elf hissed, her blade inches from his throat.
"Human, watch your tongue—or I will cut it out."
Ravin's composure snapped, replaced by the cold indifference of his new state. "If you have the courage, then try. But listen: it's useless against me, because I am not alive anymore."
"You low-born creature—have you lost your mind!"
Before she could strike, the old elf woman opened her eyes. Her voice, though soft, cut through the tension like a blade of light.
"He speaks the truth."
All ten elves turned to her, stunned. The fifth maiden whispered, trembling, "Mother… what are you saying?"
The old elf rose slowly, profound grief clouding her eyes. "I can feel and see it. My daughter, Cetana… has passed from this world."
Ravin bowed his head respectfully. "Thank you, Mother of Cetana. But I must tell you more. Before she died, she said Captain Elven had the curse coin. He should be on his way here."
The old elf's face tightened with deeper sorrow. "Captain Elven… is also no more."
Ravin stared at her, speechless as a cold dread crawled up his spine. "What? What happened to him—and what happened to the coin?"
The old elf turned toward the burning yagna flame, her voice heavy with prophetic weight. "The coin… has slipped far beyond your reach."
Ravin, confused, took a small step forward. "How did you know about him?"
The other elf maidens immediately stopped him from moving further. One girl replied, her voice hushed: "Mother has the power to see and feel the future."
He exhaled sharply.
"So… all our hard work, all those deaths… completely wasted?"
The old elf woman lowered her eyes, sorrow etched deep on her face. "I warned Cetana," she murmured. "I told her death was walking close behind her. I begged her not to leave the village… but she never listens."
Ravin clenched his jaw. "And what about that elf captain?"
At this, Cetana's mother raised a brow, watching Ravin with a hint of amusement. "Hmm? Were you his friend?"
"What? No—no, of course not!" Ravin waved his hands quickly.
She nodded slowly. "Good. He died because of his own foolishness. He tried to unleash the demon sealed in the Coin… and paid for it. Even earlier, when the coin was stolen, I foresaw rivers of death—elves and humans alike. That is why I warned everyone not to chase after it."
Ravin sighed heavily, already moving toward the exit. "Alright, good story. But it's not my problem anymore. My job is done. I should leave your territory—and this damned forest. Goodbye."
He turned to walk away.
But the old elf lifted a single finger.
In an instant, one of the ten elven maidens shot forward—her movement a silver blur of speed—and with one clean swing, she severed Ravin's head from his body.
The courtyard froze in shocked silence. Blood pooled at Ravin's feet, and the head rolled across the polished stone...
Yet—both the body and the head remained alive.
Ravin's severed head glared up furiously. "HEY! What the hell—!? That attack was impossibly fast! I need to leave now! I have to inform the others about what happened!"
The old elf woman stepped closer, her voice suddenly cold and absolute.
"And that," she said, her eyes pinning his severed head to the floor, "is exactly why you cannot leave. so take some rest here."
Inside the grand hall of the Elf Castle, the air was heavy with murmured voices. The king's ministers sat in a half-circle beneath towering pillars carved with ancient runes. Among them sat Minister Fingol, calm and observant.
One of the ministers suddenly paused, leaning forward. "Did you hear that?" he whispered. "I swear someone's here."
Another shifted uneasily. "This place is too quiet…"
Minister Fingol waved a hand dismissively. "Relax. The hall is guarded by dozens of soldiers."
At that very moment, a soft footstep echoed. From between two massive pillars, a hooded elf woman emerged, her face half-covered by a mask. She moved without sound, like a shadow given form.
The second minister stood up in panic. "An assassin! Someone has sent her!"
Fingol did not move, his composure perfect. "No. She serves the crown." He turned toward the others. "Both of you—leave us."
Reluctantly, the two ministers bowed and exited the hall, their footsteps fading into silence.
The hooded elf lowered her cloak—but kept her mask on. "Where is the King?" she asked urgently. "I must report to him at once."
Fingol folded his hands. "The King is not in the castle. But that is no problem. Speak. I will listen."
She hesitated for several seconds, clearly weighing the cost of her words. "But our King ordered me not to share this information with anyone else."
Minister Fingol leaned back, his eyes steady. "Don't worry. I am a loyal servant of our great King. Plus, as you already know, I am the only person who knows you work for him. We are both loyal servants."
The elf girl conceded. "Then—"
"Captain Elven is dead."
For a moment, the vast hall fell completely silent.
Minister Fingol's eyes darkened… then, slowly, a faint, chilling smile curved his lips—not sorrowful, not shocked. "Dead?" he repeated softly.
The elf messenger continued, her voice controlled but tense. "Before his death, he possessed the cursed coin. He was fighting another black shadow elf tribe. I assisted him, but the situation went beyond our control. I fled only because the King ordered me to survive and report."
She drew in a breath. "When defeat became inevitable, the Captain swallowed the coin. He transformed… into a demon."
Fingol nodded slowly, as if confirming a theory long proven true. "Then he is truly gone," he said coldly. "Once the demon awakens, the soul is consumed first. There is nothing left of the man."
"Understood," the elf girl replied. "I will be sure to inform the King of everything that happened in the forest. Please be careful." She turned to leave.
"Wait," Fingol called out. "Did anything else happen?"
The elf girl paused. "Yes. That lady Cetana also died."
Minister Fingol's face went white suddenly, his cold composure shattered. "What? Why and how?"
The elf girl replied, "She was fighting like the rest of us against the black shadow elf tribe and some humans, and more... I don't know the full details."
Fingol ran a hand over his mouth, his gaze distant and worried. "Oh, but this is not good. She knew our deep and other secrets , plus we are doing many things by the help of her. Now her death could be very troublesome for us."