The cave shimmered with a faint, golden glow, the light pulsing softly like a heartbeat. Suspended in midair, the Luminous Diksuchi cast its glow across the jagged stone walls. Its surface rippled with intricate ley lines, each line alive with energy, tracing the unseen veins of Bhu-loka’s lifeblood. As the ley lines converged, a holographic map hovered above it, charting pathways that glimmered with cosmic energy.

Svetavastra stood at the center of the cave, his white robes catching and refracting the light, making him appear almost otherworldly. His hand moved methodically through the projection, the glowing lines quivering under his touch as if they could sense his intent.

Manu leaned against a stone pillar at the edge of the chamber, his posture rigid despite his casual stance. The shadows cloaked his face, but the tension in his clenched jaw betrayed him.

“This can’t be right,” he muttered, his voice low but cutting through the stillness.

“How can there be a cosmic footprint near the temple of Satyavan in the west? That’s not where the Cardinal Relic of the West is.”

Svetavastra didn’t answer immediately. His eyes narrowed as he brushed his fingers along the western quadrant of the projection. The map rippled, revealing a faint, pulsing glow on its edge. The light flickered, hesitant, as though shy of being seen.

He finally spoke, his voice calm but edged with urgency.

“We have to investigate this anomaly. If the Diksuchi detected it, Raktabija’s forces won’t be far behind.”

Manu pushed himself off the pillar, crossing the room with slow, deliberate steps.

“That’s a risk we can’t afford.” His voice grew sharper. “We’re not equipped to take on a demon army head-on.”

“You’re right,” Svetavastra said, still studying the projection. “But this pulse—this cannot be ignored. What do you think could be causing it?”

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Manu exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair.

“The Cardinal Relic of the West was handed to the Nagas after the Great Drought. A gesture of reconciliation.” His words carried the weight of history, heavy and bitter.

Svetavastra’s gaze flickered toward Manu, something clicking in his mind.

“Reconciliation…” he murmured. “The Nagas were hunted for their ties to the Great Serpent Dragon, weren’t they?”

Manu’s face darkened, and he gave a grim nod. “Hunted to near extinction.”

Svetavastra’s voice dropped, his tone almost wistful. “I met King Nahusha once.”

Manu froze, his eyes widening. For a moment, he seemed to forget the weight of their current dilemma.

“What?” His disbelief rang out. “King Nahusha has evaded even Swarga-loka for centuries. How could you have met him?”

Svetavastra’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I don’t know. He found me. He said he could entrust certain matters to me.”

Manu’s brows knit together. “The Cardinal Relic?”

“No,” Svetavastra said, shaking his head. “He never mentioned the Relic.”

“What did he entrust to you, then?” Manu’s tone was edged with impatience, the flickering light catching the tension in his frame.

Svetavastra hesitated, his gaze distant.

“The well-being of the remaining Nagas.” His voice was soft, almost reverent. “I have not sought them out. I thought they were safer without my presence, away from the darkness I fight.”

Manu began pacing, his boots scuffing against the stone floor.

“That means they aren’t in the underworld,” he muttered. “But I always thought the Relic was with them.”

Svetavastra’s silence hung in the air like a judgment.

Manu stopped abruptly and turned to him. “We need to find the Relic before Raktabija does. If the temple of Satyavan is their refuge, war is already at their doorstep.” He stepped closer, his hand gripping Svetavastra’s shoulder. “We can’t let this darkness consume them.”

Svetavastra’s jaw tightened. “I won’t take this war to the Nagas,” he said firmly, his voice echoing in the cavern.

A rustle of wings broke the tension as Shyena, the divine falcon, swooped into the cave, landing gracefully on a nearby perch. Its talons clinked against the stone, and it tilted its head toward Manu, releasing a sharp cry.

Manu listened intently, his expression hardening with every sound the bird made. His fingers flexed at his sides, his displeasure evident in the deep furrow of his brow.

“The demon army is already on its way to the temple of Satyavan,” he said grimly, his voice cutting through the golden glow. He turned to Svetavastra, his eyes blazing. “We’re out of time.”