The discussion at the Yamsabha had shaken everyone. A truth buried for centuries had been dragged into the light, and it stirred something deep within each listener. The ultimate power in the world had been mentioned—Puranas. The ancient scriptures, myths, and forgotten philosophies that were said to have shaped the very foundation of Kaalagraha. The tales once dismissed as bedtime stories or folklore now whispered louder in their minds.
Back in the city, the mood was restless.
"We need as much information on the Puranas as possible," Raghav said, seated with Rudra and Raman in the inner chamber. Scrolls lay open on the floor, and the scent of old ink clung to the air. "Raman, you mentioned some historic warrior hierarchy last time we discussed history. Did those warriors have access to these Puranas?"
Raman leaned back against the stone pillar behind him, adjusting his shawl. "Yes, young master. Our state head alone commands an army of over forty thousand foot soldiers, twenty thousand horse riders, and weapons that could turn cities to ash. And those armies aren't made of just men. Some within them are... different—beings of unmatched power."
"Yes, I know," said Raghav. "There are too many powerful beings under Rankriti. I also know that there are people more powerful than Rankriti. What I want to know is—do these more powerful beings possess the Puranas?"
"No one knows," Raman replied with a smirk. "If you ask me, they're just myths. Stories wrapped in gold. Scriptures can't give you power. If reading books could make you strong, I'd be the state head myself."
Rudra leaned forward, eyes sharp. "Maybe they're not ordinary books. Maybe they contain the knowledge—rituals, weapons, ancient ways—to extract that power."
Raman chuckled. "Boys, these tales will lead you nowhere. Sarthak's moves should be your focus."
Just then, the heavy door creaked open and Ashvapati stepped in. He glanced at the twins, then the scattered scrolls.
"Your time and focus should be on Sarthak," he said firmly. "We need to find out if he has any allies—or something else."
"By something else, do you mean supernatural power?" Raghav asked with a grin.
Ashvapati's expression did not change. "No. I mean something we don't know about yet. Something that could kill us all if we aren't ready."
The tone in his voice chilled the air. Raman immediately began gathering the scrolls, rolling them in silence.
The twins exchanged glances. Ashvapati wasn't wrong. Sarthak had publicly declared his split from the Yamsabha and had taken an entire city with him—a massive blow to Rankriti. The situation had grown dire, and Arya was still missing, wandering in a dark place of his own. There was no room left for fantasy.
Still, the stories lingered.
The twins left the chamber, but the legends did not leave their minds. The tales of Puranas danced just out of reach, taunting their curiosity.
Outside, the sun was beginning its descent, painting the sky with streaks of gold and crimson. The clang of steel on steel echoed from the training grounds.
At the pit, Ganak stood like a wall of stone, observing the new recruits with his arms crossed. Sweat, shouts, and dust filled the arena. The warriors—some lean, some towering—struck against wooden dummies and sparred with each other under his grim gaze.
Ashvapati led the way to the edge of the pit. His presence was like a shadow stretching across the courtyard. The twins followed in silence.
"You two need to understand something," Ashvapati said without turning. "You are not children anymore. The entire city's weight rests on your shoulders. I'm not trying to scare you—but this is the truth. There's a war coming."
His hammer dragged behind him, the metal scraping gently against the stone. He walked toward his chambers, disappearing into the gloom.
His words hit like a punch to the chest. The twins stood for a while in silence, watching the soldiers train, hearing the beat of footsteps and the ring of weapons. The weight of reality began to press on their shoulders.
They had forgotten how this all began.
They moved quickly, sending a message to the Whisperers. Every pair of eyes and ears under their command was summoned to the pit.
Information was the key. And they were going to need every shred of it to survive what was coming.