It was a full red moon in the sky. The night had turned crimson, casting bloody shadows in the forest. The atmosphere looked so terrifying that it felt like hell had descended on Vyoman.
Yet there was something more crimson, making even the moonlight of the red moon seem dull — my bloodied body kneeling before the absolute presence of the Goddess.
She was levitating in the sky, her remaining two tails waved behind her body emitting a thick, unnatural purple aura.
Her eyes gazed at me as if I were an insignificant insect.
My heart was beating faster and faster; every breath took a toll on me. I couldn't put enough strength into my legs to get up.
"Where—where is my sword?" I blurted between breaths, struggling to speak.
"It must have been swept away by Jambavan's attack," Vyaghra said. "You should rest for a bit now. If you die, then no one will be able to cure the Queen."
"I can't re—"
