It was at this very moment that two large figures emerged from the main gates of the clan’s territory: Neewansh, the leader of the Marwah Clan, and Vedant, the leader of the Taraj Clan. They moved with deliberate slowness, their faces carefully composed, but behind their polite masks, a burning greed gnawed at them, restless and impatient. Guards saluted them formally, but their presence was followed by an air of tension as the two men strode confidently towards the meeting hall, their intent far weightier than their polite demeanour.
The meeting hall was a massive and sombre place, with stone pillars that rose like ancient giants towards a dark ceiling. The symbol of the Rudra Clan was emblazoned on the far wall, carved deep into black stone, lit by flickering fire crystals that cast a dancing amber glow over the room. The hall was normally filled with the clan’s elders and their discussions, but now it was empty, the silence a heavy presence that pressed against the very air. Only one person was in the room. Ishant Rudra sat on the central throne-like seat, motionless, his hands resting calmly on the armrests. He did not rise to greet them. He did not speak. He simply watched. And in that alone, both visitors slowed their pace. For a brief moment, Neewansh and Vedant felt a shiver run down their spines, like the touch of a cold blade against their skin. Ishant Rudra’s presence was not boisterous or aggressive; it was simply immovable, absolute – like the presence of a mountain that did not notice the storms.
They drew near and bowed in respect. “Clan Leader Ishant,” Neewansh greeted tactfully.
A faint smile played on Ishant’s lips, but it lacked warmth. “You came uninvited.”
The two leaders exchanged a brief look before Neewansh continued, his words dripping with honey. “We heard your son, Eklavya, has progressed from Throat Chakra Opening to Third Eye Chakra Opening in merely a month. We came to offer our congratulations.”
A brief, harsh laugh burst from Ishant. “You did not come for congratulations. Do not waste my time. Get on with it.”
The hall fell silent. The fire crystals pulsed.
Finally, Neewansh let out a breath. “We have come… to return the half of the market won during the bet.”
Vedant moved to the forefront at once, his words steady but hungry. “In return, we ask for the spirit stone mine that lies within the Nile Mountain Range.”
Ishant’s gaze narrowed ever so slightly. “And if I do not give it to you?”
Vedant stood tall. “If the land is not formally ceded to the Rudra Clan, then the city laws state that the mine must be divided equally among the three great clans. We merely ask for our due.”
The air in the hall turned chill.
“But who found the mine?” Ishant asked in a low voice.
Vedant paused. “Y-your clan.”
“Then it is mine,” Ishant said, his voice soft — perilously soft, like still water hiding enough depth to swallow armies whole.
Neewansh hastily produced a scroll. “We have drawn up the proper paperwork. All that is needed is your signature.”
Ishant stood.
The instant his feet made contact with the floor, the hall shook.
His aura burst outwards like a tempest shattering its bonds. The invisible force slammed against the hall. The temperature dropped. Darkness lengthened along the walls as spiritual energy filled every nook of the hall.
Neewansh and Vedant fell to their knees the instant they were caught in the maelstrom, their bodies compelled by the overwhelming might.
“What—?!” Vedant coughed, gasping for air. “You… you’re not a Grandmaster Warrior… you’re— a Spirit Warrior!”
Before he could finish, a black-cloaked figure burst into the hall through the entrance, spiritual energy bursting forth as the man tried to protect the two leaders from Ishant’s might. The newcomer himself had Spirit Warrior-level power, his aura blazing defiantly.
Ishant didn’t even look at him.
He just amplified his aura.
The newcomer fell instantly, his knees slamming against the stone floor as blood poured from his mouth. The irresistible force warped the very air itself, threatening to reduce all three to dust.
And then—
A piercing whistle pierced the quiet.
An arrow flew through the open door, cutting cleanly through Ishant’s oppressive presence as if guided by absolute precision. It stopped just a finger’s breadth from his forehead.
Ishant caught it effortlessly between two fingers.
A small folded paper was tied to the shaft.
He unfolded it slowly and read.
Whatever message lay within sucked the fury from his eyes in an instant. The storm was gone. The oppressive presence dissipated as if it had never been.
He lowered his hand.
“Leave,” Ishant said quietly. “And never mention this matter again.”
The pressure was off, and Neewansh and Vedant scrambled to their feet, faces pale, pride broken. They hastened towards the exit, almost colliding in their haste to get out of the hall.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
As he stepped out into the corridor, Neewansh muttered to himself, voice shaking with humiliation and anger.
“If I cannot take it legally… I will snatch it.”
Ishant heard him.
He did not answer.
But his fingers slowly tightened around the arrow, the wood creaking slightly beneath his grip – the only indication that the storm had not yet fully passed.
…
Back in the mountain range, Eklavya and Anshvi stepped onto a narrow stone trail winding along the outer edge of the Nile Range. The wind here was colder, carrying the scent of pine and damp earth. The trees rose tall and thick, their shadows long and dense.
Spirit birds flew overhead, their wings leaving faint luminous trails.
The two had already gathered three required herbs, and now only two remained.
“We have to go deeper for the rest,” Anshvi said, adjusting the small pouch on her hip. “I know a good place.”
Eklavya checked the sun’s angle. “How long will it take?”
“If we start now,” she answered, “we’ll be back by tomorrow evening.”
Eklavya turned his head slightly, eyeing her with suspicion. “You’re not playing any tricks… right?”
She placed a hand dramatically over her chest. “Ayea! Who do you think I am?”
“A very suspicious woman,” he said calmly.
She glared at him—but her smile softened. Just as she opened her mouth to say something back—
Four figures stepped out from behind the trees. Their footsteps were heavy. Their auras are unstable yet hostile. “Hey! Stop right there!” Anshvi exhaled slowly. It wasn’t the sigh of a scared woman. It was the sigh of someone whose perfect moment had been interrupted. Her brows twitched. Her smile faded as she became serious and colder.
Eklavya noticed her eyes turn colder than winter frost, and a chill ran down her spine as the surrounding becomes heaveir. The four men approached, their gazes lingering too long on Anshvi. With intentions that were too far from pure.
“Did you hear us?” one man sneered. “Stop—”
Before he finished, Anshvi stepped forward, smoothly placing herself in front of Eklavya.
Her voice dropped, low and chilling. “I sensed your presence earlier… I ignored it. Because I thought you all would leave.”
The men stiffened. She continued, her tone turning razor-sharp. “But since you’ve chosen to ruin my time… then die.”
Her aura exploded outward. The ground cracked beneath them.
The four men collapsed instantly, their bodies pinned to the earth as though crushed under a mountain.
Eklavya’s eyes widened slightly. “Grandmaster Warrior…”
She raised her hand. Light gathered at her fingertips—four thin rays.
Before the men could scream, the rays shot forward, piercing each of their foreheads cleanly.
And their bodies went still.
Anshvi turned back to Eklavya, wiping her finger with a small cloth, her expression shifting instantly back to her serene smile.
“Small ants,” she said lightly. “Let’s go.”
Eklavya stared at her for a moment. “So you really are a Grandmaster Warrior?”
She nodded, beaming proudly. “Mhm.”
The contrast between her deadly efficiency and soft smile was… something.
He exhaled. “Before gathering herbs, I need to visit the Nile Spirit Stone Mine."
"Why?" Anshvi asked him as they walked forward. "Just to meet an Elder. He hasn't come to the clan since the last one month."
She nodded. “I’ll take you. Let’s go together.”
They continued walking deeper into the mountains, leaving the four lifeless bodies behind—silent witnesses to the truth of who Anshvi truly was:
A woman who could switch from gentle to lethal in the span of a breath. And who, no matter how much danger surrounded them… stayed by Eklavya’s side.
[LitRPG] [Cultivation] [Crafting] [Smart MC]
Synopsis (Click to Expand)
To transcend the heavens, one must first forge the ladder.
He is a Cultivator who values volume over speed.
He is a Chronicler who will not stop at the sky.