A whirlpool of wind erupted around Svetavastra, lifting him into the air as if carried by invisible hands. The divine bow flew towards him and nudged him to hold it. Golden light burst forth as Svetavastra’s fingers touched the weapon, flooding the chamber illuminating all nooks and corners.
The moment of contact sent a surge of memories crashing through him—not the chaotic, overwhelming flood from before, but a stream of crystal-clear visions. He saw himself wielding the bow in countless battles, its golden arrows piercing through demon hordes, each shot guided not by force but by the unwavering desire to protect. Unlike the divine sword that demanded cosmic power to even lift it, the bow felt different. It hummed with an energy that responded to intention rather than might, its true power awakening only when forming the arrows that would spring from the wielder's cosmic essence.
I’m honoured to have you back, Svetavastra thought.
"Amazing," whispered the preta from the bracer, its voice filled with awe.
“I haven’t seen such a divine weapon before,” said the cosmic form from the circlet on Svetavastra’s head.
But their wonder was short-lived. The chamber shuddered, ancient stone groaning as the cave began to collapse in on itself. With the bow's removal, the very magic that had held this sanctuary together for centuries was unraveling.
Svetavastra gestured with his hands and the bow disappeared into his self. He fell to the ground. Catching himself up, he rushed out of the chamber.
Manu was waiting on the other end.
"Time to leave," Manu said sharply, his eyes already mapping their escape route.
He caught Svetavastra’s hand and began to run as dust and debris raining down around them. The tunnel ahead twisted like a serpent's path, each turn bringing them closer to either escape or burial.
This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.
"Left!" Manu shouted as a massive chunk of ceiling crashed where they had stood moments before. They weaved through the falling rocks, their footsteps echoing off walls that threatened to become their tomb.
They burst out onto a narrow ledge, the cliff face dropping away into nothingness before them. The mountain itself seemed to be shaking apart, the very rock crumbling beneath their feet.
“The divine bow must have been holding the cave system in place,” the cosmic form commented.
"We're trapped!" the preta cried out.
But before panic could take hold, a familiar screech cut through the chaos. Shyena, the divine falcon, swept down from above, his wings spread wide against the sky with perfect timing.
"Jump!" Manu commanded, already moving.
They leaped just as the ledge gave way, time seeming to slow as they hung suspended between solid ground and empty air. Shyena's wings caught them, his divine strength bearing them up and away from the collapsing mountainside. They soared higher, the wind whipping past them as the ancient sanctuary crumbled into rubble far below.
As they flew to safety, none of them noticed the tremor that passed through the ley lines, a ripple of cosmic energy spreading out across the world like rings in still water.
But far away, in a chamber of darkness, Raktabija felt it. The demon lord's eyes snapped open, sensing the disturbance in the cosmic fabric. His fingers tightened around his Life-Siphoning Scimitar, the blade humming with dark energy as if responding to his rising anger.
"So," he growled, his voice echoing in the shadows, "another of the cardinal relics has been claimed." His eyes narrowed, reflecting the crimson glow of his weapon. "But this time, I am ready."
The darkness around him writhed, responding to his will, and somewhere in the distance, a thunder of marching feet grew louder.
Back in the sky, as Shyena carried them to safety, Svetavastra felt the divine bow's presence within him, not as a burden of power, but as a reminder of his promise. The bow had recognized in him what he had almost forgotten—that true strength lay not in the weapon itself, but in the unwavering heart that wielded it.
"That was too close," Manu said, his voice barely audible over the wind. But there was something in his tone, a note of pride perhaps, or satisfaction.
Svetavastra remained silent, his thoughts turning to the battles ahead. Two divine weapons now rested within him, (technically one was in the cosmic form) each a piece of who he once was, each a step closer to who he needed to become. Yet as the wind rushed past them and the ruined sanctuary disappeared into the distance, he couldn't shake the feeling that their trials were only beginning.