Outside Agnira's chamber, in the quiet verandah of the inn, Tribe Leader Mohini and Jhumki's mother (Parul), stood listening. The muffled noises from within carried unease.
Parul frowned, worry clouding her features.
"This time… what trouble has she dragged you into?"
"From the sound coming from her room , something feels wrong."
Mohini's expression remained stern.
"You know her well. She cannot escape her punishment this time."
" Besides, Taal and Jhumki have already fed her—there's nothing more to worry about."
But Parul's sharp eyes caught something unusual. The faint wisp of smoke.
'Smoke'
"No… there are—smoke. Something's not right. What if she's in danger?"
Mohini's tone sharpened, calm yet edged with authority.
" I know you treat her like your own child, Parul, but why you forget—She is Agnira, born to be a danger, not to fall into it herself."
Parul's voice softened, but her words carried quiet defiance.
"Leader… believe it or not, you care for her too. You've given her the love of a mother, whether you admit it or not."
A faint smirk touched Mohini's lips, her tone laced with dry sarcasm.
"You can play the mother, Parul. I'll remain the father. That suits me just fine."
While inside room, Agnira stepped through the smoke, her sword dancing to the wild rhythm of the wind.
With a proud, unyielding voice, Agnira declared:
"Agnira herself is an intoxication—those addicted to her end up walking straight into hell."
Each strike cut the air with merciless precision, shredding fabric into fragments that dissolved into the smoke.
As the smoke thinned, Ayush staggered, panting.
"Huff… huff… I barely made it out alive…"
But as his eyes darted downward, he froze. His clothes were shredded to tatters, his jewelry ruined—he looked like a beggar stripped bare.
"Ahhh—!" he yelped in shock, quickly yanking a curtain around himself.
"Don't you have any shame, staring at a man like this?" he cried.
Agnira's voice cut through, cold and merciless:
"Don't flutter about—you're hardly worth looking at."
"Stay as far away as you can. My blade never misses its mark."
"Take this as my plea — and now leave, because Agnira needs no one."
Ayush only smirked, twirling his brush with effortless flair. With a single sweep, he sketched a garment into existence, then brushed it over himself—instantly clothed in a brand-new outfit.
He stepped forward once more, closing the distance between them.
"Tomorrow, at the grand festival in the arena, there will also be some soul fights... I'll be waiting for you,"
With a playful wink, he vanished like a spell—leaping back through the window in a single bound......
Morning dawned with a deep roar of excitement, the air everywhere charged with the spirit of celebration. Yet, hidden within it, the poisonous roots of corruption had already spread even into the forest guardians.
In a vast open ground, crowds of guests were seated all around, while at the center lay the Soul Arena, encircled by water, and at its edge stood five royal thrones.
The performers were making their final preparations inside the grand hall—dreamlike gowns, glittering jewelry paired with leather belts, and stylishly set hair. The leaders and the others waited eagerly outside.
Parul half in worriedness ,"But where had they all disappeared?"
Suddenly, from behind, a soft voice echoed—"'Mom, we're ready to dazzle the stage."
They turned toward the sound, and there stood many ladies, their faces veiled in delicate niqabs, radiating beauty. Alongside them were men in elegant attire, holding their musical instrument with Taal along with rhythmic Tabla , their presence equally mesmerizing.
Parul, the leader, and Taal's mother, Suhani, smiled proudly."Our daughters look so beautiful today…"
"Wait a moment," Suhani interrupted, lifting her hand."First, let me ward off the evil eye."
At once, Taal's father hurried to fetch some red chilies. "Hehe, here they are—don't touch them with your bare hands!"
"Fine…" Suhani chuckled, taking the chilies.
She closed her eyes, whispered under her breath, and circled them in a wide loop seven times in front of everyone before letting the ritual burn away. Then she gently touched each girl's forehead.
Suhani moved first to Niritya. "You look truly stunning, my dear."
"Thank you, Aunty Suhani," Niritya replied with a graceful smile.
Suhani stepped closer to Jhumki and caressed her cheek warmly. "My future daughter-in-law, you are looking breathtaking today."
Blushing, Jhumki answered softly,"Maa, you yourself look no less radiant."
Then Suhani went to Chanchal and Chunri."The two of you are also shining beautifully today."
Together, they chimed, "Thank you, Aunty Suhani."
Touching each one with blessings, Suhani finally reached Agnira.
Bending near her ear, she whispered teasingly, "These feminine clothes look far too beautiful on you. "
"Don't remove your MASK VEI in this crowd, or someone might fall for you—and your tribe mother will only worry more."
Suhani brushed her affectionately, then turned back toward the fire, letting the chilies crackle into flames.
Agnira, however, was lost in thought. ("Today, I must find the answers to all my questions. I must gather every piece of debt and make them whole weapon. And in this dress, no one will notice me me…" )
The Soul Arena glimmered like a jewel, its boundary traced by a wide ring of water that shimmered in hues of gold and silver. The vast ground surrounding it throbbed with the pulse of thousands—tribes, clans, and honored guests gathered to witness the dawn of the Soul Fights.
From the center dais, the royal herald lifted a conch shell and blew; its sound rolled across the sky like thunder, silencing the restless crowd. His voice rang out, deep and commanding:
"Today, upon this sacred ground, we welcome the Five Pillars of Drishmāya, gathered together for the future of Vanrakshak. "
"For centuries, Simarath has stood as the pride of the clans, under the strength of its leader—our King Kesari."
" And now, he arrives with his grandsons, Prince Rudr and Prince Shaurya, to bless this ceremony."
From the towering main gates came the procession. At its center strode King Kesari himself—an old yet unyielding monarch, his presence radiating raw power.
At his sides walked his grandsons: the fierce Prince Rudr and the steadfast Prince Shaurya, their eyes burning with youthful pride. Behind them followed General Bijli, lightning etched into every step, flanked by loyal guards in gleaming armor.
As they reached the middle of the arena, King Kesari struck his foot against the ground. The earth shuddered, sending ripples across the water boundary. Behind him surged his spiritual power—an enormous white lion, its mane blazing, encircled by a glowing legendary red aura-ring.
The crowd erupted in thunderous chants:
"KING KESARI! KING KESARI!"
"PRINCE RUDR! PRINCE RUDR!"
"PRINCE SHAURYA! PRINCE SHAURYA!"
With a demonstration of their power, the three—grandfather and grandsons—advanced to their thrones.
Drumbeats echoed, steady and primal.
A hush fell over the crowd as the royal herald raised his voice once more, reverberating across the water-bound arena:
"And now, we welcome the mighty King of the Aakashvanshi, the sovereign of the skies, the master of winds—King Aakesh!"
Then, the sky trembled as if brushed by wings. Descending in solemn dignity, King Aakesh landed upon the dais. A fierce, spiritual old man with sharp, eagle-like features, his very aura carried the gravity of the heavens.
The crowd erupted in awe, their chants rising like a gale:
"KING AAKESH! KING AAKESH!"
The royal herald's voice rang out again, soft yet commanding, carrying across the murmuring crowd:
"Next, we honor the serene and formidable Queen of Jalnandan, Commander of waters, guardian of tides—Queen Asthika!"
The waters stirred next. A crystal fountain burst upward, its spray forming a glowing arch as Queen Asthika of Jalnandan appeared. Draped in a gown of flowing blue that shimmered like the ocean's depths, her presence was calm yet untamed, her eyes glistening with the patience—and fury—of tides.
The crowd gasped and whispered in admiration:
"Queen Asthika… she is breathtaking!"
Even from the spectator stands, the White Peacock Clan leaned forward,
Inara whispering in awe, "Her beauty… and yet, her power feels endless."
The royal herald's voice echoed once again, firm and commanding:
"And now, we welcome the formidable King of Chayavansh, master of shadow and venom, the cunning and fearless—King Scorpi!"
From the far edges of the arena, a thick swirl of purple smoke rose, twisting and curling like living shadows. From within it emerged King Scorpi—a striking, handsome man in his middle age, his sharp features flawless yet carrying the silent menace of a predator.
The crowd roared, their chants echoing across the arena like a tidal wave. Yet, amidst the clamor, the voices of the Swarjan Tribe girls whispered, tense and fearful.
From the shadows, Chanchal and Chunri murmured to one another, their words sharp:
"I've heard of his power—even his shadow carries venom. No one survives it. Not a single soul."
Niritya, wide-eyed, respond , warning cut through the air like fire:
"You are forgetting who we face. We are Agniyata… No one dares cross her path to Our Queen ."
The royal herald's voice cut sharply through the murmurs of the arena, commanding silence before the next spectacle:
"And now, the fusion master, the unrivaled Queen of Agniyata, the sovereign whose fire burns like the stars and whose venom can bring death itself—Queen Vishtara!"
The crowd erupted into chants and cheers, some in awe, some in fear:
"QUEEN VISHTARA! QUEEN VISHTARA!"
A blaze of crimson erupted at the far end of the arena, fireworks igniting the sky in a furious storm of sparks. From the inferno, Queen Vishtara emerged, her fiery red gown flowing like molten lava, flame-shaped wings arching behind her. The very air seemed to shiver with her presence, both mesmerizing and terrifying.
All eyes turned toward her, but no gaze dared meet her completely. The intensity in her eyes could burn through steel and crush the spirit.
In the crowd, Agnira's locked on her. She whispered under her breath, almost with a thrill:
"So this is her… this is going to be interesting."
Asthika's lips curved into a cold smile, her whisper laced with disdain.
"Still addicted to spectacle? Some habits never change."
The two queens' eyes locked, water against flame, rivals to the core.
To be continued ....