The Singh household bustled with its usual warmth. The aroma of freshly brewed tea mingled with the faint hum of domestic chatter. Surbhi was in the kitchen, deftly preparing snacks, while Chee assisted her, her movements graceful and precise. Across the room, Pooja sat cross-legged on the floor, enjoying her ice cream with a carefree tune humming through her lips.

In the living room, Laxman and Govind sat on the plush sofa, their body language contrasting starkly. Laxman's posture was casual, but his eyes narrowed with an edge of irritation. Govind, as usual, was composed, leaning slightly forward, his gaze sharp yet distant.

"I informed Dada and Dadi about Pawan's engagement," Govind said flatly, breaking the silence. "They seemed pleased."

Laxman nodded approvingly. "Good. Your mother will sleep better now."

A beat of silence passed before Laxman turned, his tone shifting to one of playful accusation. "But why, might I ask, did you ditch me at the temple today? One minute we're talking, and the next, poof, you disappear! Do you know how awkward it was when Sia joined me?!" His voice held a mix of annoyance and humor.

Govind kept his expression neutral, but inwardly he sighed. He had deliberately detoured to avoid being caught in the delicate awkwardness between his father and Sia. "You seemed... occupied, Dad. I didn't want to intrude on your, uh, conversation."

Laxman narrowed his eyes. "Intrude on my-Govind, you-"

Govind's phone buzzed sharply, cutting Laxman's words mid-sentence. With practiced ease, Govind glanced at the screen. "Sorry, Dad. I need to take this." Without waiting for a reply, he stood and strode toward his room, leaving his father mid-grumble.

In the privacy of his room, Govind leaned against the closed door, his phone pressed to his ear. His tone was crisp and businesslike as he answered, "Hello."

A familiar voice greeted him from the other end, carrying a touch of bemusement. "Still the same Govind, I see. Always so curt. Are you enjoying your time back home?"

Govind didn't bother with pleasantries. "What do you need, Professor Kishan?"

The voice on the line, Kishan, paused for a moment, recalibrating his approach. "You're coming back to Triveni soon, right? We've been waiting for you to fulfill your promise."

Govind's response was as stoic as ever. "Not until after the engagement."

A pause stretched on the other end, thick with surprise. Kishan's mind raced, recalling the viral photo of Govind, Chee, and Pooja that had swept across Triveni Gurukul. He had assumed, like everyone else, that the engagement was Govind's own.

"Engagement?!" Kishan blurted, his shock evident.

Govind's brows furrowed at the reaction. "Yes. Why?"

Kishan hesitated, scrambling for an answer. "No reason. Just... unexpected news, that's all." He decided against pressing further, wary of Govind's temperament. Instead, he pivoted. "Don't forget what you promised us. The council is counting on you."

Govind's voice turned colder. "I haven't forgotten."

Before Kishan could continue, Govind ended the call with a curt tap, tossing the phone onto his bed. His sharp gaze lingered on the closed door, his thoughts unreadable.

Triveni Gurukul.

Far away at Triveni Gurukul, the sprawling campus buzzed with its usual energy. Amid the clamor of lectures, training sessions, and animated discussions, one topic dominated the student forums, chat groups, and even faculty lounges: the viral photo.

Inside a sleek, state-of-the-art conference chamber, a group of senior professors gathered around a holographic table that projected dynamic displays of Gurukul updates. The photo of Govind, Chee, and Pooja floated prominently above the table.

Professor Kishan strode into the room, his expression tense.

The head of the council, a stern woman named Professor Devi, raised a brow. "Well? What did he say?"

Kishan exhaled sharply. "He'll return after the engagement."

A stunned silence fell over the room before erupting into a flurry of whispers.

"Engagement?! Govind?!"

"Who's the lucky one?" someone chimed in.

"Is it the girl from the picture?" another asked.

Professor Kishan frowned but didn't deny the speculation. "It's possible. He didn't clarify."

Professor Devi leaned back, arms crossed. "The Blackheart Prince has finally found his match. Who would've thought?"

The nickname "Blackheart Prince" was both a mark of respect and resentment. Govind's stoic demeanor, unmatched intelligence, and unshakable discipline had earned him the title, but it had also distanced him from his peers, making him more myth than man.

The Realm's Forest:

The forest loomed ahead, a labyrinth of shadows and whispers. Pawan, Vikram, and Krishna stood at the edge of a clearing, the remnants of their earlier victory fading into the dense mist that cloaked the realm. The stillness felt unnatural, as if the air itself held its breath.

Vikram's voice broke the silence. "So... do we head back now?"

Pawan's gaze drifted to the forest's foreboding depths. The question wasn't simple. Returning meant safety, but pressing on meant proving their worth-and perhaps uncovering something more profound. He glanced at Krishna, expecting a quick agreement to retreat.

But Krishna, unusually pensive, broke into a sly grin. "Let's keep going."

Pawan blinked, his surprise evident. "Seriously? You're usually the first to run."

Krishna shrugged nonchalantly, his mischievous grin intact. "What can I say? I'm feeling adventurous."

Vikram groaned, running a hand down his face. "Adventurous? Or suicidal?"

Pawan, still wary, studied Krishna for a moment. Something about his tone felt off, but he decided to let it slide. "Alright, majority rules. We keep moving."

As they began their cautious trek deeper into the forest, Vikram leaned closer to Krishna, his tone low and accusatory. "What are you planning?"

Krishna's grin widened. "Nothing, brother. Just trust me."

"Trust you?" Vikram hissed. "That's the scariest thing you've ever said."

Krishna only chuckled in response, striding confidently ahead, leaving Vikram shaking his head in exasperation.

The forest grew darker, the gnarled trees pressing in around them. A faint hum of energy resonated through the air, making each step heavier than the last. Krishna, clearly itching to stir things up, clapped his hands, the sound echoing unnaturally.

"Let's make this interesting," he said, his voice cutting through the oppressive silence.

Pawan arched a brow. "Interesting how?"

Krishna's eyes gleamed with mischief. "A competition. Whoever takes down the most monsters wins. The loser has to do whatever the winner says."

Vikram stopped in his tracks, glaring at Krishna. "This is a terrible idea."

"Terrible?" Krishna grinned. "Or fun? Come on, Vikram, live a little."

Pawan's lips twitched into a smirk. "You're on."

Vikram groaned audibly, crossing his arms. "You two are impossible."

Krishna leaned closer to Vikram, his grin turning conspiratorial. "Trust me, you'll thank me later."

Vikram narrowed his eyes. "If this backfires, I'm coming for you first."

"Noted," Krishna replied breezily, already moving ahead.

The sound of battle reached their ears-shouts, roars, and bursts of energy cutting through the thick air. The trio crept closer, peering through the dense foliage to witness the commotion.

In the clearing ahead, Arun and his group were locked in a fierce fight against a horde of monstrous creatures. Arun stood at the center, his muscular frame emanating raw power as he wielded lightning magic with precision. Around him, three others coordinated their elemental attacks, creating a symphony of fire, wind, and earth.

"That's Arun," Krishna muttered, watching intently.

One of the elemental fighters unleashed a whirlwind, trapping a beast in its vortex, while another sent a fiery blast straight into its center, reducing it to ashes. Arun, meanwhile, faced two monsters at once. With a roar, he raised his hand, summoning a glowing sigil beneath one creature.

"Thunderbolt!" he commanded, and a bolt of lightning tore through the sky, obliterating the beast in an explosion of sparks and smoke.

Pawan watched, impressed despite himself. "He's good."

Krishna's grin returned. "Think we can take them?"

Vikram shot him a glare. "Don't even think about it. Let them handle their fight."

Pawan nodded in agreement. "We're not here to play hero. Let's move."

But Arun's sharp eyes caught sight of them. His lips curled into a smirk as he called out, "Hey! You three look lost. Shouldn't you be heading back to the portal before you get in over your heads?"

Pawan's jaw tightened, but he kept his tone calm. "We're doing just fine, thanks."

Arun chuckled mockingly. "Suit yourselves. Just don't expect us to bail you out when you bite off more than you can chew."

Krishna muttered under his breath, "Cocky bastard."

Vikram shot him a warning glance, but Krishna's grin didn't waver.

The oppressive silence of the forest seemed to grow thicker with each step the trio took, as though the very air around them conspired against their presence. Twisted trees stood like silent sentinels, their gnarled branches clawing at the low-hanging mist. The earlier skirmish faded into memory, replaced by the ominous hum of distant creatures, their guttural roars hinting at the dangers ahead.

Krishna smirked, breaking the tension. "This one's mine," he said confidently, stepping forward as if he'd been waiting for this moment.

Pawan turned toward him, his brow furrowed. "Are you serious right now?"

Krishna didn't answer. Instead, his right eye gleamed faintly, the intricate markings of the Kaal Chakra Vardaan glowing as its aura swirled around him. For the first time, Pawan noticed the shift in Krishna's demeanor-a mix of focus and something else... a hint of determination bordering on desperation.

"Is he really using his Vardaan just to win a silly competition?" Pawan muttered, half to himself.

Vikram, leaning against a tree, folded his arms as he silently observed Krishna. His mind churned with unspoken thoughts. He couldn't shake the words of the village chief: "The winner will be betrothed to my daughter and prepared to lead this village."

And suddenly, it clicked.

"Krishna's playing the long game," Vikram realized, his jaw tightening. He's trying to drag Pawan into this-and force him into the prize without even knowing it. His fists clenched at the audacity of Krishna's plan.

The massive, reptilian creature in front of them snarled, its glowing red eyes fixed on Krishna. The beast towered over him, muscles rippling under its leathery skin as it scraped the ground with razor-sharp claws.

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Krishna smirked, stepping lightly on the balls of his feet. "Bring it on."

The monster lunged, its speed almost too fast to follow. But Krishna's Kaal Chakra lit up like a beacon, his foresight granting him an edge. His movements became a calculated dance, weaving through the creature's attacks as though choreographed.

With a flick of his hand, the loose rocks scattered on the ground rose into the air. Krishna propelled them forward with psychic force, their velocity amplified by his Vardaan. The projectiles struck the beast's chest, and it stumbled back, snarling in pain.

Pawan and Vikram exchanged glances, both uneasy at Krishna's display of precision and control.

"Is he seriously showing off right now?" Pawan whispered.

Vikram, however, wasn't watching the fight. His sharp gaze remained fixed on Krishna, searching for a clue to his ulterior motives.

The beast lunged again, jaws snapping inches from Krishna's head, but he anticipated the move. With a swift side-step, he delivered a psychic push that sent the creature hurtling into a nearby tree. Without missing a beat, Krishna leapt forward, slamming a levitated rock into the monster's temple.

The creature crumpled with a thunderous crash, its body motionless.

Krishna turned to his friends, dusting his hands theatrically. "That's 10 points for me."

Pawan scowled. "10 points? Are we seriously scoring now?"

Krishna grinned cheekily. "I mean, did you see that? Come on, admit it-epic, right?"

Vikram shook his head but kept his suspicions to himself. Keep playing your game, Krishna. But I'm not letting you win this easily.

As the trio pressed forward, the forest shifted around them. The trees grew denser, their branches forming a tangled canopy that blocked out the faint light of the sky. Suddenly, Pawan stopped, his enhanced suit alerting him to movement ahead.

A sleek, predatory creature stepped into the clearing-a massive, scaled wolf with glowing yellow eyes. Its claws scraped the ground, sending sparks into the air.

Pawan smirked, unsheathing his twin Desert Eagles. "This one's mine."

The wolf circled him, its muscles coiling like a spring. Without warning, it lunged, a blur of speed and power.

Pawan activated his boots, the tech-enhanced gear propelling him backward in a burst of energy. He landed smoothly, raising his pistols with practiced ease. His enhanced vision locked onto the creature's weak points-the exposed joints and the soft underside of its jaw.

"Bang!"

The first shot struck the wolf's leg, causing it to stumble. The second shot pierced the creature's jaw, the force of the bullet driving it to the ground. It let out a low whimper before falling silent.

Pawan holstered his guns with a twirl, turning to his companions. "10 points for me."

Krishna scoffed. "10 points? That thing barely qualifies as a threat. More like 5 points."

Pawan's eyes narrowed. "You want to say that again?"

Before the argument could escalate, Vikram stepped in, his voice sharp. "Enough. One point each. We're not here to compare scores."

The two exchanged glares but didn't argue further.

Anticipation at the Portal

The crowd surrounding the portal buzzed with anticipation. The air was tense, filled with murmurs and speculations as villagers eagerly awaited the return of their champions. The village chief stood tall, her piercing gaze scanning the shimmering energies of the portal for any sign of movement. The elders flanked her, their solemn faces betraying their silent prayers for the safety of the participants.

Nearby, Nisha, a 23 year-old-girl the chief’s daughter, stood still, her serene beauty drawing glances from all around. Her waist-length jet-black hair cascaded like a waterfall, framing her sharp, angular features. Dressed in a muted grey saree paired with a black blouse and lehenga, she radiated a quiet elegance. Her jhumkas swayed gently with the breeze, their delicate chime contrasting with the heavy silence. Around her slender waist, a black thread rested, adding an understated charm to her commanding presence.



The young girls whispered among themselves, giggling softly but keeping their voices low enough to avoid the chief’s ire.

"This is Arun’s time to shine," one girl said, her tone filled with confidence.

"Of course," another chimed in. "He’s the strongest. No one can challenge him."

One of the bolder girls nudged Nisha with a teasing smile. "Soon, you’ll be the chief’s wife. Arun’s been in love with you since childhood, after all."

Nisha’s calm expression didn’t waver, but there was a flicker of discomfort in her dark eyes. She ignored the comment, her gaze fixed on the swirling portal as if searching for answers within its depths.

Nearby, Arun’s father puffed his chest out, loud and brash as usual. "My boy is the strongest in this village! This contest is just a formality. We all know who’s going to win."

His voice carried over the murmurs until the chief turned her cold, commanding gaze on him. He immediately fell silent, shrinking back under the weight of her glare.

Meanwhile, the old man who had sent Pawan, Vikram, and Krishna into the realm paced nervously at the edge of the crowd. His thoughts were heavy with worry. I warned them not to stray too far from the portal. Did they listen?

Inside the Realm:

Far beyond the portal’s reach, the dense forest gave way to a foreboding cave. Its gaping entrance seemed to draw them in, the darkness beyond pulsating with an unnatural energy. The faint sound of dripping water echoed from within, mingling with the eerie hum that emanated from deep inside.

Vikram stopped short, his hand instinctively reaching for his weapon. "Guys, if your little competition is over, I say we head back now."

Krishna smirked, his eyes glinting with mischief. "What’s the matter, Vikram? Scared of a little adventure?"

Vikram shot him a sharp look. "I’m not scared of the realm. I’m scared of you and whatever insane plan you’re cooking up."

Krishna chuckled, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "So you’ve figured it out. Look, I’m just trying to teach Pawan a lesson. When else will I get an opportunity like this?"

Vikram’s frown deepened. "You’re seriously trying to push him into this marriage? You know he’ll lose it when he finds out you set him up."

Krishna’s grin widened. "Oh, the look on his face will be priceless."

"Or it’ll get you killed," Vikram muttered, shaking his head. "You’re playing with fire, Krishna."

Before their argument could escalate, Pawan’s voice echoed from further ahead. "Hey! Guys! Get over here—now!"

Exchanging wary glances, the two reluctantly followed Pawan toward the cave’s ominous mouth.

The air inside was damp and heavy, carrying the faint metallic tang of something ancient. The walls shimmered faintly, etched with glowing symbols that seemed alive. Their light pulsed softly, as if in tune with the beating of a long-forgotten heart.

Pawan, his instincts guiding him, moved deeper into the cave, drawn by a faint sound—an ethereal tinkling, like anklets dancing in the distance. The sound grew louder as they ventured further into the darkness.

They entered a large chamber, its walls covered in intricate carvings that told a story of battles and sacrifices. At the center of the room lay a skeleton, slumped against the wall. Its bony fingers clutched something tightly.

Pawan knelt beside it, his face unreadable. He carefully pried open the skeletal hand, revealing two items: an ancient leather-bound book and a single anklet, adorned with delicate, star-like carvings.

Vikram and Krishna stood in silence, watching as Pawan pocketed the items. He ran his fingers over the skeleton again, searching for its missing anklet but found nothing. His eyes shifted to the carvings on the walls, which depicted a lone figure wielding light and two glowing anklets against a backdrop of chaos.

"What are you doing?" Krishna hissed, stepping closer. "Have you lost your mind?"

Vikram placed a hand on Krishna’s shoulder, his expression firm. "Let him be."

Ignoring the tension, Pawan rose to his feet. He glanced back at the skeleton, his voice soft. "We can’t leave it like this."

The three of them worked in silence, gathering stones to build a small memorial for the fallen soul. When they were done, they stood quietly, paying their respects.

Back at the Portal:

Outside the portal, the atmosphere was electric. Villagers murmured among themselves, speculating about the fate of their champions. Arun’s supporters were loudest, their confidence unwavering.

"This contest is just for show. Arun will win easily."

"Who else can even compete with him?"

But Nisha stood apart, her calm exterior masking a growing unease. Her dark eyes remained fixed on the portal, the swirling energies reflecting the turmoil within her. A faint breeze tugged at her hair, carrying with it an inexplicable chill.

Her mother, the chief, placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "The test will end soon. Trust in the strength of our people."

Nisha nodded but didn’t speak. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something extraordinary—something dangerous—was unfolding inside the realm.

As the trio prepared to leave the cave, the faint tinkling of anklets returned, louder this time, as if calling to them. Pawan glanced over his shoulder, his hand instinctively brushing against the pocket where he’d placed the anklet.

"Let’s move," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Krishna shot Vikram a knowing look, his grin returning. Perfect. Let’s see how this all plays out.

Unbeknownst to them, their actions in the cave had set something in motion—something that would not only alter the outcome of the competition but ripple far beyond the boundaries of the realm itself.

The air in the cave was thick with tension, the oppressive energy from the Asura nearly suffocating. Krishna’s Kaal Chakra blazed like a beacon, warning him of the impending attack. Without thinking, he lunged at Pawan, shoving him to the ground just as a beam of searing light carved through the air, striking the wall behind them and leaving a gaping crater.

"Move!" Krishna barked, his voice sharp with urgency.

The trio scrambled to their feet, their bodies tense, adrenaline coursing through their veins. Emerging from the shadows was the towering figure of the Asura. His crimson eyes burned with malice, and the runes etched into his dark armor pulsed with an ominous glow.

The Asura’s deep, guttural laugh reverberated through the cave. "Impressive reflexes, little one. But skill alone won’t save you."

Krishna took a cautious step forward, his mind racing for a strategy. "What do you want? We’ll give it to you—just let us leave."

The Asura’s grin widened, his sharp teeth gleaming. "What I want is to see you squirm before I take what’s rightfully mine." His gaze locked onto the anklet Pawan had taken. "The Goddess of Love’s anklet… in the hands of children. How amusing."

Pawan clenched his fists, determination flaring in his eyes. Raising his Desert Eagle, he aimed at the Asura’s head. "Let’s see how amusing this is."

He fired.

In an instant, the Asura vanished and reappeared before Pawan, his massive hand slamming into Pawan’s chest. The force sent him flying into the cave wall, the impact cracking the stone. Pawan crumpled to the ground, struggling to breathe.

The Asura loomed over him, his smirk cruel. "Toys like that won’t save you. You’re out of your depth, boy."

Krishna rushed to Pawan’s side, dragging him up as he whispered frantically, "We can’t fight this guy. We need to get out of here."

Vikram stepped forward, his hand gripping the hilt of the Sword of Asoka. "You go. I’ll buy us time."

Krishna hesitated, his Kaal Chakra flashing warnings in his mind. "Vikram, don’t—"

"I’m not asking." Vikram unsheathed the blade, its deadly aura filling the cave. The Sword of Asoka glowed with a hunger for blood, and the oppressive energy it radiated even made the Asura falter momentarily.

The Asura’s grin faded, replaced by a look of intrigue. "Ah, the cursed blade. I thought it was lost to time."

Vikram’s voice was steady, but there was an edge of something darker. "Time to remind you why it’s feared."

He charged, the blade slicing through the air with a sharp hum. The first strike landed across the Asura’s shoulder, drawing dark blood that sizzled as it hit the ground. The Asura growled, his movements growing erratic as he lashed out.

"Go!" Vikram barked over his shoulder, his strikes growing faster and more ferocious.

Krishna didn’t need further convincing. He hoisted Pawan over his shoulder and sprinted toward the cave’s exit. "Hold on, Pawan. We’re almost there."

Pawan’s voice was weak but filled with concern. "Vikram… will he be okay?"

Krishna didn’t answer, focusing on escaping.

Inside the cave, Vikram unleashed the full might of the Sword of Asoka, each strike leaving deep gashes on the Asura’s body. The blade pulsed with energy, feeding off the Asura’s blood and amplifying Vikram’s strength. But with each strike, Vikram felt the sword’s influence burrowing deeper into his mind, dulling his senses and amplifying his aggression.

The Asura staggered, his blood pooling on the cave floor. "What… what are you?"

Vikram’s eyes glowed faintly, his voice low and almost unrecognizable. "Your end."

The Asura, sensing the growing danger, snarled. "Impressive. But this isn’t over." He summoned a swirling portal behind him. "Next time, I’ll take that blade—and your soul."

With that, the Asura disappeared, leaving Vikram alone in the cave.

But the fight was far from over. The Sword of Asoka, unsatisfied with the battle’s end, tightened its grip on Vikram’s mind. His breaths grew heavier, his movements erratic as he stumbled out of the cave.

The forest reacted violently to the sword’s energy. Trees twisted unnaturally, their branches reaching like claws. Monsters lurking nearby fled, sensing the impending danger. Vikram’s rampage began, his strikes indiscriminately tearing through anything in his path—monsters, wildlife, even the forest itself.

The once-shadowed realm turned into a chaotic storm of destruction, its eerie beauty marred by Vikram’s uncontrolled wrath.

The Portal:

Back at the portal, the villagers recoiled as Krishna burst through, carrying a battered and bruised Pawan. The old man rushed forward, his face pale with worry. "My children, are you safe?"

Krishna set Pawan down gently, nodding. "We’re fine, but Vikram… he’s still inside."

The village chief stepped forward, her expression stern. Placing her hands over Pawan’s injuries, she closed her eyes, and a soft glow emanated from her palms. Pawan winced as his wounds began to heal.

"What happened to the third?" the chief demanded.

Krishna hesitated. "He’s… handling something."

The portal shimmered ominously, and a wave of dark energy pulsed outward, causing the villagers to step back. The chief’s daughter, Nisha, stiffened, her sharp eyes narrowing. "Something’s wrong."

Moments later, the remaining participants stumbled out of the portal, their faces pale with terror.

The chief’s voice was sharp. "Speak. What happened?"

One participant stammered, "It… it wasn’t the monsters. It was him. The boy with the sword. He’s a demon!"

The oppressive energy intensified as the portal pulsed again. A figure emerged—Vikram, his body battered and his clothes torn to shreds. His eyes glowed faintly, and the Sword of Asoka was still gripped tightly in his hand.

The crowd gasped, stepping back in fear. Even Krishna and Pawan exchanged wary glances.

"Oh, look who it is!" Krishna said, his usual humor returning. "Our naked warrior." He quickly fished out his phone, aiming to take a picture.

The old man smacked the phone out of Krishna’s hands, draping a spare robe over Vikram. "Show some respect!"

Vikram stood silently, his grip on the sword loosening slightly. His eyes scanned the crowd, his expression unreadable. The chief stepped forward, her gaze hard but tinged with concern.

"Your fight may be over, but the danger is not. This sword… it is a curse."

Vikram didn’t respond. Instead, he turned to Pawan and Krishna, his voice low but firm. "Are you guys okay."

The crowd watched in silence as the trio moved aside, their return marking not just the end of a battle but the beginning of a storm far greater than they could imagine.

The Suspense Unfolds

The crowd waited with bated breath as Pawan stepped forward, his footsteps heavy with uncertainty. He glanced at Vikram and Krishna, both seated with the elder, looking far more relaxed than he felt. Krishna gave him a mischievous grin and mouthed, “You’ll thank me later.”

Pawan frowned, his gut telling him that Krishna’s grin was a sign of trouble. Nonetheless, he approached the village chief, holding the ancient book he had retrieved from the cave. He hesitated for a moment, unsure if presenting the book was a good idea, but with no other choice, he handed it over.

At first, the villagers looked at the book curiously, whispering among themselves. “What is that? A diary? That’s his proof?”

Arun, standing smugly nearby with his monster cores, scoffed loudly. “A book? Really? This is supposed to be proof of his strength? What a joke!”

Even the village chief raised a brow, unsure what to make of it. But as soon as she opened the book, her expression changed. Her eyes widened in astonishment, and the murmurs of the crowd fell silent.

The elders quickly gathered around her, peering over her shoulder. One of them exclaimed, “This... this is no ordinary book. These are spells from the ancient wars between the Devas and Asuras!”

Another elder added, “These spells were thought to be lost for centuries. They hold immense power and knowledge.”

The villagers gasped collectively, and their whispers turned to awe.

“He found something priceless!”

“This is beyond what anyone else has brought back!”

“Even Arun’s monster cores can’t compare to this.”

The village chief held up the book and declared, “This discovery is a gift from the gods themselves. It is proof of courage, intelligence, and fortune. By the authority of this trial, I declare Pawan the victor!”

The crowd erupted into cheers, chanting Pawan’s name. Arun stood frozen, his jaw clenched, and his father looked utterly humiliated.

Amidst the celebration, Krishna leaned back smugly, watching everything fall into place. “Perfect,” he muttered under his breath, glancing at Vikram, who looked less thrilled.

“This is going to bite you in the ass,” Vikram whispered.

“Relax,” Krishna replied. “I’m just teaching Pawan a little lesson. He’s always so sure of himself. Let’s see how he handles this.”

The village chief raised her hands to silence the crowd. “As per our ancient tradition, the victor of this trial will receive the greatest honor—the hand of my daughter, Nisha, in marriage.”

Pawan’s smile faltered instantly. “Wait, WHAT?” he blurted out, his voice rising above the crowd’s cheers.

The village chief ignored his outburst, continuing with a proud smile. “The ceremony will take place in our sacred temple, where the gods will bless their union.”

The crowd erupted into celebration once more. Laughter and congratulatory shouts rang out, but for Pawan, the words felt like thunderclaps. He froze, his thoughts racing, until his eyes locked onto Krishna, seated casually at the edge of the crowd. Krishna’s smug grin widened, his mischievous plan finally bearing fruit.

Vikram, seated beside him, wore a far darker expression. His furrowed brows betrayed the storm brewing within. He leaned toward Krishna, hissing, "You’ve gone too far. This isn’t a joke anymore."

Krishna shrugged nonchalantly. "Oh, come on. Look at him. He’ll get over it. And who knows? Maybe he’ll thank me someday."

Pawan turned to the village chief, panic edging into his voice. "Wait! This has to be some kind of mistake. I didn’t agree to this! I can’t… I won’t get married!"

The chief’s piercing gaze settled on him, her expression unwavering. "Are you rejecting the will of our ancestors and the blessing of the gods?" she demanded, her tone heavy with warning. "Such dishonor will not only bring shame upon you but upon the household that vouched for you."

Her eyes flicked meaningfully to the old man who had sent them into the realm. Pawan followed her gaze and saw the despair etched into the elder’s weathered face. The weight of his earlier words hit Pawan like a blow: "I’ve already lost my son. I can’t lose more."

The cheers of the villagers grew louder, each voice a reminder of the responsibility now thrust upon him. His shoulders sagged under the pressure. This isn’t fair, he thought bitterly, but the words felt hollow in the face of the elder’s silent plea.

Amidst the growing cacophony, Pawan’s desperate eyes landed on Nisha, the village chief’s daughter. She stood silently, her expression unreadable. Her long, jet-black hair framed her face like a veil, and her piercing black eyes seemed to pierce through him without revealing anything of her own thoughts. Draped in a stunning red bridal ensemble, she looked regal, otherworldly—but she was as still and silent as a statue.

"Don’t you have anything to say?" Pawan asked, his voice tinged with desperation. "Are you okay with this?"

For a moment, her gaze flicked to his. Then she looked away, her face betraying no emotion. "It doesn’t matter what I want," she said softly, her voice calm but empty. "This is my duty."

Her words felt like a punch to the gut. She doesn’t want this either, Pawan realized. Yet, like him, she was bound by forces beyond her control.

The villagers worked tirelessly to prepare for the sacred wedding. The energy was electric as they decorated the temple and prepared the bridal finery.

Meanwhile, Pawan was led to a small hut where the elder waited with a set of pristine white kurta and dhoti.

The elder placed the garments in Pawan’s hands, his voice soft yet resolute. "Wear this. You will look like a groom worthy of a goddess."

Pawan stared at the clothes, his hands trembling. "I don’t want this," he muttered. "This isn’t what I came here for."

The elder placed a weathered hand on his shoulder, his eyes filled with quiet understanding. "Sometimes, life doesn’t give us choices. Sometimes, it demands sacrifices. Remember, my boy, you carry the trust of those who believed in you. Don’t let it go to waste."

Reluctantly, Pawan dressed in the ceremonial attire, the white fabric feeling heavy on his shoulders. His thoughts churned with frustration and helplessness as he prepared for a future he didn’t choose.

The temple loomed at the edge of the forest, an awe-inspiring blend of ancient spirituality and advanced technology. Its intricate carvings glowed faintly, while vines intertwined with metallic structures, creating a harmony between nature and innovation.

Pawan was led inside, where villagers had gathered to witness the sacred ceremony. At the far end of the temple, Nisha stood by the altar, her red bridal attire shimmering under the temple’s glow.

For a moment, Pawan was struck by her beauty. She looked like a queen from a legend, her presence commanding yet ethereal. But the fleeting admiration quickly gave way to the weight of reality as he caught sight of Krishna’s smug face in the crowd. This is his doing, Pawan thought bitterly.

The priest’s voice filled the temple as he began chanting ancient hymns, the rhythmic words resonating with the energy in the air. Pawan stood beside Nisha, their hands joined by the priest as part of the ritual. The villagers watched with reverence, their collective energy amplifying the sacred atmosphere.

Pawan leaned closer to Nisha, his voice barely audible. "Why aren’t you saying anything? You don’t even know me. Why are you going along with this?"

Her eyes remained fixed on the altar. After a pause, she replied softly, "Because it doesn’t matter. This is what’s expected of me."

Her words sent a chill down Pawan’s spine. He realized that she, too, was a pawn in this ancient tradition, her voice silenced by duty.

While the ceremony unfolded inside, Krishna and Vikram stood outside, watching the festivities. Krishna nudged Vikram, his grin smug and triumphant. "Did you see his face? Absolutely priceless. This is my best prank yet."

Vikram’s jaw tightened, his expression dark. "You’ve gone too far this time, Krishna. This isn’t just a prank. You’ve trapped him in something he can’t just walk away from."

Krishna shrugged nonchalantly. "Relax. Pawan will figure it out. He always does."

Vikram turned away, his fists clenched. "I hope for your sake you’re right," he muttered, a storm brewing in his eyes.

As the priest completed the final chant, Pawan and Nisha stood before the villagers, now declared husband and wife. The crowd erupted into cheers, their joy echoing through the temple and into the forest beyond.

Pawan glanced at Nisha, his heart heavy with unspoken words. She met his gaze briefly, her face as unreadable as ever.

This isn’t the end, he thought. This is just the beginning of something far bigger than any of us.

Outside, dark clouds gathered on the horizon, as if the heavens themselves sensed the turbulence yet to come. The bond forged in that temple would not only alter the lives of Pawan and Nisha but would ripple across the realms, bringing chaos and challenges that neither of them could yet comprehend.

To be continued......