Jai stepped closer to Eklavya, lowering his voice despite the chaos tightening around them like an invisible noose. “Eklavya,” he said firmly, urgency cutting through his usual warmth, “leave. We’ll hold them off.”

  It was not an order born from authority alone, but from instinct — the protective reflex of an elder who had watched the boy grow and refused to see him fall here.

  Eklavya shook his head once, slow and unwavering. “No,” he replied quietly. “I’m not running.”

  There was no bravado in his tone, no reckless pride — only certainty. Anshvi turned sharply toward him, irritation flashing across her eyes. “You’re only at the Third-Eye Chakra. If you stay here—”

  Her warning was shattered mid-sentence. The air itself screamed.

  A four-star Grandmaster warrior erupted forward, tearing through space with terrifying speed. The ground cracked beneath his step, wind exploding outward as his sword descended toward Eklavya’s throat in a flawless killing arc. There was no hesitation, no testing strike — only execution.

  But the blade never reached its target. Anshvi moved just in time.

  One instant she stood beside Eklavya; the next she appeared before him, her form blurring into motion too fast for ordinary sight.

  Her twin spear rose, intercepting the strike with perfect timing. Steel collided with a thunderous crack that shook the valley walls. Shockwaves rippled outward, blasting dust and loose stones into the air as she slid backwards, boots carving deep trenches into the ground before finally halting.

  “If anyone wants him,” she said, voice cold enough to freeze flame, “you’ll go through me.”

  The Grandmaster hovered briefly, stabilising himself, eyes narrowing with genuine interest.

  “A five-star Grandmaster… at your age. Fascinating.” A Master Warrior beside him laughed darkly. “Then we’ll kill her together.”

  Their auras ignited simultaneously, violent pressure tearing upward into the sky. They attacked as one — blades and ki cutting through the air like lightning. Anshvi surged forward to meet them, weapons clashing with explosive force as the three figures shot skyward, becoming streaks of light colliding amid bursts of thunderous shockwaves that rolled across the valley like a gathering storm.

  Below, Jai roared and charged into the remaining enemies. His fist crashed into a Master Warrior’s guard with bone-rattling force, sending the man sliding across stone before Jai pivoted seamlessly, blocking simultaneous attacks from surrounding one-star Grandmasters.

  Sparks burst with every collision. Steel shrieked. Battle cries echoed against the cliffs.

  And amid the chaos, a two-star Practitioner Warrior approached Eklavya slowly, cruelty curling across his face. “Bad day for you, boy.”

  Eklavya exhaled softly, and a faint smile appeared on his face. “You think you know who you’re fighting.”

  His hands moved — swift, precise, forming seals ingrained into muscle memory through relentless secret practice.

  “First seal… open.”

  A tremor surged through him.

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  One by one, his nine chakras ignited, pulsing like blazing stars. The channels connecting them lit with scorching ki, energy roaring through pathways never meant to carry such force.

  His ki core throbbed violently, awakening like a heart reborn. Then the surge came — power bursting outward, sharp enough to split the wind itself.

  His irises turned an unnatural, piercing blue. His breathing slowed. His presence deepened, stabilising at the level of a one-star Master Warrior.

  It wasn’t a true breakthrough but borrowed soul power. But on a battlefield, borrowed strength could decide life and death.

  The green sword appeared in his hand, humming eagerly as if recognising its moment.

  The practitioner lunged.

  Eklavya stepped forward instead of retreating. Time seemed to slow down around him because of his increased speed.

  He saw everything — the shift of balance, the exposed flank, the fatal opening hidden beneath confidence. His blade moved without hesitation, with a flash of green and a burst of ki.

  The strike passed cleanly.

  The attacker staggered, disbelief frozen in his eyes as a thin red line bloomed across his chest. He collapsed before understanding what had happened, life leaving him before his body struck the ground.

  After that, the silence swallowed Eklavya’s senses. He stared at the corpse of the human he just killed. His first human kill.

  His breath faltered. Fingers numbed. A cold shock spread through him as reality settled heavily upon his chest. He had slain beasts before. He had witnessed death through inherited memories. But this — feeling resistance give way beneath his own blade — was different. Terribly real.

  Guilt surged instantly, sharp and suffocating. But beneath it… something older stirred.

  Fragments of Avrah and Dashirsur’s memories rose like distant echoes — wars fought for survival, kings defending nations, warriors forced to choose between mercy and extinction. A colder understanding seeped into him.

  ‘If I hadn’t killed him… he would have killed me.’

  His breathing steadied. Emotion receded behind necessity. Calm settled across his face like winter frost.

  And in that single moment of stillness — danger struck again.

  A Grandmaster slipped past Jai’s defence and carved a deep arc across the elder’s back. Blood sprayed across stone as Jai stumbled forward with a pained grunt. Before Eklavya could react, a grandmaster Warrior rushed him. The strike came too fast.

  A brutal kick slammed into his chest.

  Eklavya was hurled backwards, smashing into a tree with explosive force. Bark splintered outward as blood burst from his mouth, breath stolen from his lungs.

  Anshvi saw that, and something inside her broke.

  She tore free from her opponents with explosive fury. A Master Warrior moved to intercept — she didn’t slow. With a scream filled with raw rage, she split her twin spear into two single-headed weapons and hurled one forward.

  “Get lost!”

  The spear blazed with condensed ki, piercing straight through the Master Warrior’s chest and pinning him to a boulder like a discarded puppet. The Grandmaster attacked from behind, but she twisted midair, delivering a kick so devastating that her foot tore through his abdomen.

  “Die.”

  His body flew backwards, crashing into the man who had struck Eklavya. Both collapsed together. Before they could recover, Anshvi was already upon them. Her remaining spear drove forward, piercing deep into the attacker’s chest. Her expression turned terrifyingly cold.

  “You kicked him,” she whispered, voice trembling with fury. “And you think I’ll let you die easily?”

  Her heel slammed downward, punching through flesh. The man screamed. She seized the leg that had struck Eklavya and tore it apart with brutal strength. The sound echoed wetly across the valley, final and horrifying.

  Jai, bleeding but victorious, finished the last enemies and turned — only to freeze at the sight. He swallowed hard. “Someone once told me never to anger a woman,” he muttered hoarsely. “I believe them now.”

  Anshvi finally looked toward Eklavya, lying against the shattered tree, coughing blood. For a fleeting second, warmth softened her expression. Then she turned back to the dying man.

  “I’ll end this quickly,” she murmured.

  Her spear rose. It fell in one clean arc, splitting his skull from his body.

  Silence descended over the valley. The wind moved again. The river murmured in the distance. And the battlefield, at last, grew still.