The twins joined Arya on the balcony, their presence grounding him as the cheers of the pit echoed below. Ganak followed closely behind. Arya swayed, his vision flickering at the edges. The battle, the wounds, the sheer exhaustion—his body was giving in. The twins caught him before he collapsed, supporting him on either side.
"We need to get him inside," Raghav muttered, glancing over his shoulder at the restless crowd below.
Together, they guided Arya through the castle corridors. His blood stained their hands, his breath shallow. Each step felt heavier than the last, but he refused to let unconsciousness claim him. Not yet.
Vaidyas rushed forward the moment they entered the chamber. The twins helped Arya onto the bedding as healers pressed cloth to his wounds, whispering prayers and incantations over his broken body. Ganak, the twins, and Ashvapati stood nearby, watching in silence.
Outside, the pit held its breath. The riotous chants faded, replaced by tense anticipation. No one moved, no one spoke. They had witnessed something extraordinary, something that felt larger than life. News of Arya's survival spread like wildfire beyond the pit's walls. By the hour's turn, murmurs had reached the streets of Bhuva Mandala and even Prithvi Mandala. People gathered at the castle's entrance, eager for a glimpse of the man who had defied death and fate.
On the balcony, Ashvapati stepped forward, raising a commanding hand. "Return to your places!" His voice was firm, unwavering. "Guards, restore order. Those who belong to the cells, return. Those who seek the city—go."
The crowd obeyed, but the energy remained. There was a shift in the air, a lingering thrill, as if they had all been part of something monumental.
Inside, Arya drifted between consciousness and fevered dreams. When the first light of dawn filtered into his room, he stirred. His entire body ached, but he forced his eyes open. The first sight he saw was the twins, standing vigil. The second was Ashvapati, his arms crossed, watching him closely.
A weak smile tugged at Arya's lips. "I'm still here."
"Barely," Raghav replied, though his voice carried relief.
Vaidyas stepped forward, offering water and medicine. "You should rest. Your wounds were deep."
Arya exhaled slowly, shaking his head. "There's no time for rest. What happened last night will change everything."
He met Ashvapati's gaze. "For a moment, I was ready to die. When I saw you standing there, I thought it was over. But something inside me refused to let go. I wanted to live. I wanted to win."
Ashvapati remained silent.
Arya turned to Ganak. "I owe you my life. If you hadn't stepped in—"
Ganak cut him off, his voice as hard as steel. "You owe me nothing. I did what had to be done."
Arya nodded in understanding. He shifted his gaze to the twins. "And you two… I wouldn't be here without you."
Rudra didn't speak, but his eyes held something unspoken—an apology for every doubt he had voiced before. Arya saw it and nodded, letting silence mend what words could not.
Outside, the pit still waited. The people demanded answers, direction. Arya forced himself to sit up, wincing. "We have much to do. Many things left unfinished."
Raghav placed a firm hand on his shoulder. "Not now. You need to recover first. We'll handle things until you're ready."
Arya hesitated, then relented. "Fine. But not for long."
As he rested, the twins stepped outside, meeting Rohak and the Whisperers in the shadows of the castle. The Chorpatta fighters stood waiting, their faces unreadable. The twins reached into their pockets and tossed them a handful of mudras each. "A token of gratitude. For standing with us when it mattered."
The Whisperers grinned, accepting the payment with nods of approval. "Call on us again when the time comes."
Rudra smirked. "That time isn't far away."
And deep within the castle, Kalanemi sat in his cell, silent. Not struggling. Not speaking. Just watching, waiting.
Something was coming. They all knew it.
Arya had survived the pit. But this was only the beginning.