Chapter 13 Attack
A week after the first pioneer families had settled comfortably into Mini Base 1, the newly established outpost was finally functioning like a proper community. Before heading out, Dhruv and Shikhanda stood near the reinforced wooden gates, watching a group of children play near the newly built barracks while their parents traded at a nearby stall.
"You've built a good foundation here, Vikram," Dhruv said, turning to the scarred Vanguard captain. "The people feel safe. That is the most difficult thing to build in a wilderness like this."
Captain Vikram saluted, a faint, respectful smile gracing his rough features. "We will keep the walls standing, Lord Dhruv. Have a safe journey back to the capital. I know Lady Meera and young Rudra are eager for your return."
"They certainly are," Shikhanda laughed, slinging his travel pack over his shoulder. "And my wife has probably compiled a list of chores long enough to rival our military drafts. Let's move, Dhruv."
With the patrol routes running smoothly and the runic barriers humming with steady protective energy, the two leaders set out on the road back to Pataliputra, their hearts lightened by the prospect of seeing their families after weeks of exhausting labor on the frontier.
Meanwhile, back in the capital, the relentless hum of training echoed through the reinforced stone walls of Meghnath Academy. Named after a legendary, invincible warrior of mythological times, the academy was the absolute crown jewel of the Aryavarta Federation. The architecture was grand yet imposing, with soaring archways and training courts carved from solid, prana-absorbent stone.
Only the most exceptional youths across the federation were admitted here, pushed to their absolute physical and mental limits in preparation for their fourteenth birthdays, when they would undergo the crucial Awakening Process. After awakening, only those who manifested high talent grades could hope to be scouted by the prestigious martial sects—such as the Sword, Flame, Sea, or Soul sects.
Inside one of the academy's private, gravity-reinforced battle rooms, the air was thick with sweat and the sound of heavy breathing.
"Watch your left, Rudra! She's pivoting!" Karn yelled, his voice strained as he threw himself forward, thrusting his wooden practice spear in a desperate attempt to create an opening.
Nitya smirked, her spear spinning in a dazzling blur of pure, brutal force. With a swift, heavy sweep of her weapon, she deflected Karn's spear, forcing him to jump backward to keep his balance. Without losing her momentum, she pivoted on her heel, directing the blunt end of her spear toward Rudra's chest.
"Too slow!" she called out.
But Rudra had already anticipated the move. Instead of blocking her head-on, he dropped low, letting the spear slide over his shoulder. His movements were fluid, like water flowing around a stone. Sliding past her guard, he swung his wooden practice dagger in a swift, calculated arc toward her ribs.
"CLACK!"
Nitya dropped her elbow just in time, blocking the strike with the shaft of her spear. The sheer force of her physical defense pushed Rudra back a few steps, his sneakers scraping against the dirt floor.
The two-on-one spar had been going on for over an hour. Even against both boys, Nitya's overwhelming physical strength and relentless momentum kept them on the defensive. But they didn't mind the exhaustion. They were honing not just their combat skills, but their sheer perseverance, pushing past the limits of their young, unawakened bodies.
As evening fell and the lanterns of the academy began to glow with soft prana light, the trio finally collapsed against the wall, panting heavily and drenched in sweat.
"You guys are getting slower," Nitya teased, wiping her face with a towel, though her own chest was heaving and her shoulders were tense.
"We were just... letting you win... so you wouldn't cry," Karn wheezed, leaning heavily on his wooden spear with a weak, teasing grin.
Rudra laughed, slinging his canvas bag over his shoulder as he stood up, his muscles aching in that deeply satisfying way that only came after a brutal workout. "I'll see you both tomorrow. Don't skip your stretches, Karn, or your legs will be stiff as tree trunks by morning."
Saying his goodbyes, Rudra stepped out of the academy gates and headed toward his home. He lived in the River Moon Society—a highly secure, peaceful residential district reserved for the top officials, researchers, and legendary defenders of Aryavarta. The streets here were beautiful, lined with ancient, glowing trees that absorbed the ambient prana of the city and emitted a soft, soothing blue light.
Yet, as Rudra turned a corner onto a quieter, shadow-drenched avenue, a cold shiver suddenly ran down his spine. The normal, comforting ambient sounds of the city—the distant chatter of markets, the hum of passing vehicles—seemed to fade away. Through his keen, instinctual senses, which had always been far sharper than those of other children his age, he felt a heavy, lingering gaze pressing against the back of his neck.
Someone was stalking him.
Rudra didn't panic. He knew that showing fear would only invite an immediate attack. Pretending to adjust the strap of his bag, he slipped his hand inside his sleeve, his fingers wrapping tightly around the cold, familiar iron hilt of a real dagger he kept hidden for emergencies. Keeping his pace steady and natural, he pulled out his communication device and quickly sent a message.
Mother, I think someone is following me. I'm on the main road near River Moon block 4. They're keeping to the shadows.
Miles away in her central office, Meera's heart stopped. The protective maternal instinct within her flared into instant, icy panic. Her warm, gentle demeanor vanished in an instant, replaced by the terrifying aura of a mother whose child was in danger. She stood up so fast her chair flew backward, crashing loudly against the wall.
Do not do anything rash, Rudra, she typed back, her fingers trembling slightly as she rushed toward the exit. Do not take any shortcuts. Keep to the open, lit areas. I am on my way right now!
Meera sprinted out of the building, her legendary life-energy surging through her legs as she pushed her speed to its absolute limit, tearing through the streets of Pataliputra like a gust of wind.
Meanwhile, in the deep shadows of a narrow alleyway just a few yards behind Rudra, a figure wrapped in a dark, prana-concealing cloak pressed a small, runic communication bead to his ear.
"Boss, the target is in front of me," the assassin whispered, his voice cold, hollow, and devoid of any human empathy. "He is near the alley. No guards in sight. Ready to be eliminated."
On the other end of the connection, a distorted, static-heavy voice crackled. Confirm action. Eliminate the child before his parents return to the capital. Do it quickly, and leave no trace.
"Understood."
As Rudra stepped past the mouth of the dark alley, the cloaked figure lunged out like a striking viper, a black-steel dagger gleaming with lethal intent in his hand.
Rudra's training and his raw, ancestral instincts saved his life. Instead of stepping forward, he instinctively threw his entire body backward. The assassin's blade missed his throat by mere millimeters, cutting the air with a deadly, whistling hiss.
Before the attacker could recover his balance, Rudra drew his short iron dagger.
"CLANG!"
Steel met steel in a shower of bright, hot sparks. The sheer force of the blow traveled straight up Rudra's arm, making his bones vibrate and his teeth clench. The assassin was clearly an awakened warrior, possessing physical strength that far surpassed an unawakened twelve-year-old.
"Tsk. Quick brat," the assassin hissed, stepping in with a rapid, ruthless flurry of strikes.
"CLASH! CLASH! CLANG!"
Rudra parried desperately, his sneakers sliding against the smooth cobblestones of the street. Every clash pushed him backward, his muscles screaming with fatigue from the day's heavy training at the academy. His hands were already bruising from the sheer impact of the assassin's awakened strength, but he gritted his teeth, refusing to give up. He used every ounce of his agility, ducking under wild slashes, using the angles of his blade to redirect the lethal force, and fighting with everything he had as he desperately waited for his mother to arrive.