The air around Baro began to shimmer with a pale, emerald light. The giant demon stepped aside, bowing his massive head. From behind him emerged a woman who didn't look like a demon or a human. She was a Yakshini—a celestial spirit of nature. Her skin had a faint green glow, and her eyes held the depth of an ancient forest.
"Rudra," Baro rumbled, his voice heavy with significance. "Meet my sister, Manasa. Thousands of years ago, in your first life, you made a blood-oath. You promised that to unite our clans, you would take her as your wife."
Rudra froze. He looked at his four wives—Isha, Chitra, Priya, and Shanthi. The confusion on their faces was palpable. The tension in Hampi was higher than during any battle.
Suddenly, Isha and Keerthi (who was observing through the spiritual link) clutched their heads. Flashes of their lives before they became demons—their original, ancient lives—flooded back.
"I remember..." Isha whispered, her eyes wide. "We were there when the oath was taken. Rudra, you must fulfill it. The Yakshini blood is the only thing that can stabilize the Fourth Fragment."
The Shocking Condition
Manasa stepped forward, her presence hypnotic. She looked at the other wives and then directly at Rudra. "I will marry you, Maharaja. But I carry a Yakshini Curse. My energy is too volatile for a mortal vessel. Because of this curse, I have one condition."
The clearing went silent as she spoke.
"Once a week, we must share an intimate union. Without this weekly connection, my power will overflow and destroy everything around me. It is the only way I can stay in my control."
The other wives were shocked. Isha stepped forward, her voice trembling with a mix of jealousy and concern. "Why? Why such a specific condition?"
"It is the nature of my spirit," Manasa replied calmly. "I do not seek to steal his heart, but to survive alongside him. My curse requires the grounding energy of the Maharaja once every seven days."
Rudra looked at his family. He saw the danger they were in from Nara, and he felt the instability of his own soul. He looked at Manasa and nodded slowly. "If it keeps the world safe and fixes the fragment... I accept."
The Milk of Life
Manasa smiled, a gesture that was both beautiful and terrifying. She produced a small, ornate bottle filled with a thick, iridescent white liquid.
"Drink this," she commanded. "Your soul is cracked from the time-sacrifices and the 15% strain. This is the only cure."
Rudra took the bottle and drank. Immediately, a sensation of pure, cool peace washed over him. The jagged edges of his soul felt like they were being stitched back together with silk. The constant pain in his chest vanished.
"What is this?" Rudra asked, breathless. "My power... it feels balanced. My soul is fixed."
Manasa leaned in close, her voice a sultry whisper that only he could hear. "It is the essence of my own life... the milk from my breast, transformed into a spiritual elixir. It is the bond between a Yakshini and her King."
Rudra stood tall, his silver aura now perfectly calm and solid. The Fourth Fragment was no longer a distant goal—it was pulsing inside him, fed by the ancient medicine
of his new Queen.The group walked deep into the heart of the ancient forest, guided by Baro and the celestial light of Manasa. The peace was short-lived. Without warning, a massive, ancient sword fell from the heavens, piercing the earth inches away from Rudra's feet. The impact created a shockwave that flattened trees for miles.
High in the sky, standing on the air as if it were solid ground, stood a man whose presence made even the "Strong Demons" look like ants. His hair was long and white, but his face looked youthful, marked by a cold, divine arrogance.
"Rudra," the man spoke, his voice vibrating in the very marrow of their bones. "You play with the shadows of kings, but you have forgotten the man who created the shadow. I am your original father."
The Clash of the Dark Slashes
Rudra's face twisted in pure, unadulterated rage. The betrayal of his past, the pain of his family, and the arrogance of this stranger triggered his 15% power instantly.
"I have no father but the honor of my bloodline!" Rudra roared. He reached into the void and summoned Rusha, his sentient demonic sword.
Rudra lunged upward, his black aura trailing behind him like a comet. He unleashed a Dark Slash—a wave of energy that could split a mountain.
But Madhu didn't even draw a weapon. He simply reached out two fingers and caught the blade of Rusha. With a casual flick, he cut Rudra across the chest, the invisible pressure of his fingers acting like a laser.
Veer, seeing his father wounded, screamed in fury. He summoned his own dark aura and launched a desperate, jagged Dark Slash at the man in the sky.
Madhu looked at the boy with a bored expression. He flexed his fingers, and Veer's massive slash simply dissolved into stardust.
"Is this what the House of Rudra has become?" Madhu mocked. "A child throwing sparks?"
The Real Dark Slash
"My name is Madhu," the man declared. "And since you are so fond of shadows, let me show you the Real Dark Slash."
Madhu raised a single finger. A thin, microscopic line of black energy appeared in the air. In an instant, the entire forest went pitch black. A soundless wave of energy rippled through the clearing.
The power was so immense that Chitra, Priya, Shanthi, Sai, and Jaswanth were knocked unconscious instantly. Their bodies couldn't process the spiritual pressure. Only Rudra, Veer, and Manasa (due to her Yakshini nature) remained standing, though they were trembling under the weight of Madhu's aura.
The "Real Dark Slash" didn't just cut trees; it cut the very fabric of the dimension. A massive canyon was formed behind them, miles long, created by a single movement of a finger.
The Vanishing King
Madhu descended slowly, landing in front of the bleeding Rudra. He reached out and touched Rudra's cheek, a gesture that was both mocking and strangely paternal.
"You have the potential, my son. But you are blinded by 'love' and 'duty.' Nara is just a servant compared to what is coming for you. I will be watching from the higher realms. Grow stronger... or die as a failed experiment."
With a sudden burst of black light, Madhu vanished into thin air, leaving the forest in a haunting silence. Rudra stood there, his chest bleeding silver blood, his mind reeling. The man who claimed to be his father was stronger than anything he
had ever imagined.After the terrifying encounter with Madhu, the forest fell into a heavy, supernatural silence. Manasa stepped toward Rudra, her emerald aura pulsing with a rhythmic intensity. Her "Yakshini Curse" was beginning to flare—the energy she carried was too vast for her body to contain without the Maharaja's grounding presence.
"Maharaja," she whispered, her voice like the rustle of ancient leaves. "The sun has set, and my power overflows. It is time to fulfill the oath. Come with me."
Rudra looked at his bleeding chest and then at his family. He knew this wasn't just about desire; it was about stabilizing a force that could otherwise level the forest. Without a word, he followed Manasa into a secluded, glowing grove.
The Night of Jealousy
Outside the grove, the air was thick with a different kind of tension. Rudra's four wives—Isha, Chitra, Priya, and Shanthi—sat around a small fire, but none of them could find peace. The sounds of the forest seemed to mock them.
Priya, the youngest and most emotionally driven of the four, couldn't hold back her tears. As soon as Rudra emerged the next morning, looking physically exhausted but spiritually recharged, she ran to him and grabbed his cloak.
"My Lord! Is she the only one who deserves your time?" Priya sobbed, her heart breaking with jealousy. "I love you no less than a spirit of the woods! Please, promise me... I want a moment like that too. I want to feel your strength just as she does!"
Rudra sighed, his heart aching for her, but he stood firm. "Priya, look around us. We are being hunted by 'God-level' entities. This isn't the time for such things. We must move."
The Son and the Ancient One
As they began their trek deeper into the forest, Chitra leaned toward her son, Veer, a playful yet testing smirk on her face. "Look at your father, Veer. He's a busy man now. Perhaps you should learn a thing or two? Maybe you should spend some time with Priya or find a companion of your own?"
Veer turned bright red, his stoic warrior persona crumbling for a second. "Mother! Stop! I have no interest in such distractions. My only goal is to protect this family!"
Frustrated and curious, Veer broke away from the group and approached Manasa, who was gliding effortlessly over the uneven ground.
"Listen," Veer said, his voice cold and commanding. "I am Rudra's eldest son. I've seen demons and gods, but you... you are different. You act like you own this bloodline. Tell me the truth—how old are you really?"
Manasa stopped. She turned to Veer, and for a moment, her eyes glowed with the wisdom of a thousand civilizations. She reached out and patted Veer's cheek, a gesture that felt strangely maternal and ancient.
"My son," she said calmly, her voice echoing in the minds of everyone nearby—Isha and Chitra stopped dead in their tracks to listen. "I was here when the first trees of Hampi were seeds. I was here when the stars were young. My age... is 5000 years."
The group fell into a deafening silence. 5000 years. Manasa was older than the legends of their ancestors. She was a living history book, an entity that had seen the rise and fall of gods.
